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Migrants walk by the jungle near Bajo Chiquito, Darién province, Panama, on Sept. 22, 2023.Luis Acosta/AFP via Getty Images
In an interview last month, former U.S. President Donald Trump said Chinese nationals arriving in the United States from its southern border were “probably building an army,” echoing language common among the U.S. right wing. Right-wing commentators have suggested that the increase in Chinese arrivals and asylum-seekers is a planned infiltration of “military-aged men” or spies.
This is fearmongering. Espionage depends on access, which Chinese graduates and tech workers have and asylum-seekers do not. Furthermore, migrants around the world tend to be younger men, especially those taking a physically grueling route such as the risky Darién Gap, which stretches across Columbia and Panama.
Yet the rise in Chinese migrants coming through the Darién Gap is a good example of how China’s large population means that even small shifts can have big impacts. Around 37,000 Chinese nationals were detained at the U.S.-Mexico border last year—around the same number of people as in a single large Beijing housing compound.
Other migrants may have evaded detection, but the data suggests that most Chinese arrivals seek to make affirmative asylum claims, immediately reporting to the authorities. Those numbers have grown exponentially, increasing nearly 10 times since 2022. So, what’s going on? There is no great Chinese exodus, but a few changes have made the Darién Gap route more attractive to migrants from China.
During the COVID-19 pandemic, Chinese emigration grew overall, rising from an average of 190,000 annual departures in the 2010s to 310,000 in 2021 and 2022. Leaving China is a tricky business, especially for ethnic minorities and persecuted groups. Chinese emigration figures are still low per capita. But the strong U.S. economic recovery from the pandemic makes the United States a more attractive destination for some Chinese migrants, especially low-wage workers.
China’s own weak recovery, combined with the damage of COVID-19 lockdowns, has also pushed outliers to take the risky route through the Darién Gap, such as once successful small-business owners. University graduates are showing up at the southern border for the first time amid limited prospects back home. Conversations I’ve had with Chinese American volunteers suggest that many of these arrivals are first-generation graduates from rural backgrounds.
The increase in Chinese arrivals is also a response to U.S. politics. During the pandemic, U.S. business and tourist visas became harder for Chinese citizens to obtain. But aided by U.S.-China tensions and growing human rights abuses under Chinese President Xi Jinping, the acceptance rate for Chinese asylum claims is a relatively high 55 percent. (Chinese Christians remain one of the few refugee groups with strong bipartisan support.)
That also in part explains why Chinese migrants are keen to echo anti-Chinese Communist Party (CCP) narratives and carry Bibles and crosses. There is no doubt that there is some real feeling behind chants to “knock the CCP down!” among migrant groups, as well as many migrants with genuine Christian faith, but there is also an awareness of what narratives will play well while making an asylum claim.
It also helps a lot that Ecuador, which neighbors Colombia and where many migrants begin their journey north, became visa-free for Chinese visitors in 2015—the kind of information that litters Chinese online discussions on “runxue,” which means “run-ology” or “the art of running.” Douyin and other Chinese social media platforms are full of advice and encouragement for leaving China. Network effects have fueled Chinese infrastructure on the route, such as diaspora-run hotels and shops.
The journey isn’t cheap. Chinese organized crime plays a major role in illicit emigration and has forged tighter ties with the Latin American cartels that control migrant routes. On average, the trip from China to the U.S. southern border costs between $10,000 and $20,000; that often involves borrowing money from gangs that arrange the trip and paying it back with interest through work in the United States.
Although Chinese arrivals to the United States may remain at this level for a while, it’s not likely that they will increase exponentially again in 2024. More than a year has passed since China ended its COVID lockdowns, and U.S.-China tourist and business relations are returning to a relatively normal state. The Chinese economy isn’t doing great, but the slowdown alone doesn’t seem to be worth risking life and limb for.