Child of refugees runs for Congress as immigration divides his district

ANKENY, Iowa — Lanon Baccam’s parents landed in Iowa more than 40 years ago after fleeing war-torn Laos.

They were welcomed by then-Gov. Robert Ray (R) as part of a one-of-a-kind refugee resettlement program that brought 1,500 Tai Dam families into rural towns across the state in the 1970s and 1980s, Baccam recently told two dozen campaign volunteers.

“That is the reason why I’m running,” Baccam (D) said of his bid for Congress. “I wanted to give back.”

But the state has changed drastically since Baccam’s family made Iowa home. The same weekend that he heralded his background, his opponent, Rep. Zach Nunn (R), told rallygoers that migrants arriving “the wrong way” were sapping public resources and that the country needed to “close down our border.”

The race reflects how far the state, and the country, has moved on the issue of immigration over the last few decades. Families like Baccam’s were once embraced with open arms in Iowa and by its Republican leader. Now, questions about who belongs — and why — divide the country and this state, propelled by anti-immigrant rhetoric that has boomed out from the national political stage to Iowa’s 3rd Congressional District, an area with a small immigrant population that sits over a thousand miles from the southern border. It’s a taxing challenge for candidates like Baccam, who is part of a growing cohort of Asian Americans running for office.

Local residents across the political spectrum say they still revere the state’s refugee resettlement legacy. The Tai Dam community is a celebrated — and unquestioned — part of Iowa’s society. Tai Village, a sprawling park with green hills and a pond, is nestled into a northwest Des Moines neighborhood, and average residents are quick to recall Ray’s refugee program.

But many question who else should be accepted, and for what reasons. Fear and anxiety abound. They say they are concerned that an onslaught of migrants who may bring drugs and crime. Some say they are worried about their communities becoming unrecognizable, overrun by foreigners who they think will take jobs, stress state resources and won’t acclimate to American culture.

“The culture and their culture clash,” Carl Boyd, 73, said of recent immigrants. Boyd plans to vote for Nunn. “These people are coming here for the free ride. We don’t want this. We need to slow it down.”

  Buy Photo

It’s an issue that is shaping the presidential campaign and U.S. Senate and House contests across the country, and could be a deciding factor here in Iowa’s 3rd District. Nunn narrowly defeated a Democrat in 2022 for the House seat, ousting the incumbent by just over 2,000 votes, less than 1 percent of votes cast. The nonpartisan Cook Political Report has deemed the district a “toss up,” and both the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee and the National Republican Congressional Committee are pouring funds into advertisements. The outcome in Iowa could help determine whether Democrats gain control of the Republican-held House.

The race between Nunn and Baccam heats up at a time when Iowa, once deemed purple, has become a GOP stronghold. President Donald Trump carried the state by more than eight percentage points in 2020, and the vast majority of the district’s counties went for the Republican.

Alarm around immigration has since been a mainstay in the state: Gov. Kim Reynolds (R) sent the Iowa National Guard and Iowa State Patrol troops to the U.S.-Mexico border earlier this year, stating that Texas faced an “invasion.” Reynolds also signed a law — blocked by federal court — allowing local law enforcement to enforce federal immigration law.

The debate over immigration has rippled throughout the district, which encompasses the urban capital Des Moines and stretches into the rural, farmland-filled southwestern expanse of the state.

The state’s immigrant community remains small, but it’s growing: There are 188,605 foreign-born residents, which is about 6 percent of the state’s population. Nearly half of that population has arrived since 2010, and a new refugee and immigrant resource center is under construction in the heart of Des Moines.

Some residents say they are concerned that Iowa, once welcoming to those in search of a home, grows increasingly unwelcoming for others. Newer generations of immigrants say they fear that they will be perpetually perceived as outsiders — and at worst, fear for their safety.

“For me to come here, escaping violence, and hear, ‘Why are immigrants here?’ I hate it. We try to be the best we can be,” said David Mahirwe, who left the Democratic Republic of Congo and resettled in Iowa as a refugee in 2015. Mahirwe, 40, plans to vote for Baccam — someone who, he said, understands the hardships many immigrants face.

Mahirwe felt a flare of fear after hearing the unfounded claims of Trump and running mate Sen. JD Vance (R-Ohio) about Haitians eating pets, and the backlash those refugees endured in Ohio. Trump later accused Congolese immigrants of taking “Black and Hispanic jobs” after crossing the southern border.

Now, for the first time in his Grimes, Iowa, neighborhood, he is scared to take an evening stroll or walk his dog, he said. “As an immigrant, I’m afraid. As a Black person, I’m afraid.”

More Asian American candidates running for office this year

Baccam is part of a record wave of at least 54 Asian American candidates running for federal office across the country this year — more than double the number who ran during the last two election cycles, according to data from the nonpartisan Asian Pacific American Institute for Congressional Studies.

Asian Americans are also the country’s fastest growing group of eligible voters. Much of the growth is spurred by immigration — most of the group’s voters are naturalized citizens, rather than U.S.-born citizens.

Baccam is running to lead a district that is about 80 percent white, 10 percent Latino, 5 percent Black and only 4 percent Asian, according to the Census Bureau.

His candidacy in a predominantly white region reflects Asian Americans’ growing political power, experts say, with Asian candidates no longer solely running for office in districts where their community is a major voting bloc. “Now, it is more common to see Asian Americans run for office in the communities they live in, even if we are not the majority in that district,” said Madalene Mielke, president of the institute.

Baccam paints an idyllic portrait of his upbringing in Iowa: The Swedish American family that sponsored his parents in 1980 welcomed them with open arms, and so did the community in Mount Pleasant, Iowa, a small town about 140 miles southeast of Des Moines. He attended a Swedish Lutheran church, and the families swapped Swedish and Asian recipes. Despite the lack of diversity in school, he felt accepted, he said in an interview. He was voted the student body president in high school — proof that he was a regular Iowan, not an outsider, he said.

  Buy Photo

He spent eight years in the U.S. Army and Iowa National Guard, later working in the administration of then-Gov. Tom Vilsack (D) before moving to the U.S. Agriculture Department when Vilsack was named secretary there.

If elected, Baccam would be the first Asian American to represent Iowa in Congress.

Baccam doesn’t emphasize this. Instead, akin to the way Vice President Kamala Harris is campaigning to be the first Black and Indian American woman president, Baccam references his family’s migration journey with pride — a brief anecdote woven halfway into his spiel to rally volunteers — but doesn’t explicitly mention his candidacy’s record-breaking potential.

Baccam said his family’s refugee history represents the kind of Iowa that he believes constituents long for.

“We have such a deep history and legacy of actually being open and welcoming here in Iowa, and my family and my experience is like the proof point of this,” Baccam said. “Me, as a candidate, I think folks see that as a manifestation of what Iowa was, where Iowa came from, what we were able to do as a state.”

Nunn: U.S. doesn’t need ‘an open-door policy’

Nunn and Republican allies have been unsparing in their effort to tie Baccam to recent border surges.

Baccam, if elected, would roll “out the red carpet” for illegal immigrants, and “even supported amnesty” for them, according to a recent radio advertisement by the National Republican Congressional Committee. “Zach knows how important it is to have a safe and secure border. While Democrats, like @lanon_baccam, have allowed more than 8 million illegal immigrants into our community,” Nunn’s campaign social media posted.

  Buy Photo

Baccam dismisses the rhetoric. “We have to secure that border, and I’m all for it,” Baccam said.

At a recent campaign event for Nunn, the crowd of about 100 erupted into applause each time a speaker called to shut down the border. Many of his supporters reiterated the same rallying cry: Now, every state is a border state.

Nunn said that like Ray, Iowa’s former governor, he thinks that immigrants make Iowa better.

“What we don’t need is an open-door policy,” Nunn said, adding that Iowa has “a number of illegals” who need to be deported.

In a statement, Nunn said Iowa has been impacted by the border crisis through the illegal smuggling of fentanyl. “After defending our country in combat in Afghanistan, I never expected to return home only to be called to protect my country at our Southern Border,” said Nunn, who served in the U.S. Air Force for decades.

Neighbors have different views of immigration

Iowa is home to an estimated 25,000 to 75,000 unauthorized immigrants, which is about 2 percent of the state’s total population, according to the Pew Research Center. This year, just over 1,000 refugees have resettled in the state, with the majority from the Democratic Republic of Congo, according to state officials.

On one block in Grimes, about 16 miles northwest of Des Moines, two homes featuring lemon-yellow signs in support of Baccam faced three homes with firetruck-red signs in support of Nunn.

James Dawson, 65, stood on his porch pointing to an apartment complex nearby. Refugees from an African country had recently moved in there, he said. “I have very much, always been pro-immigration,” Dawson said. “But we can’t take care of everybody.”

He’s lived in Iowa the majority of his life. Resettling Southeast Asian refugees made sense in the ’70s and ’80s: Many served the United States during the Vietnam War, and they “assimilated” quickly, Dawson said. “It was controlled.”

But now, he sees what he calls chaos.

“Millions” of illegal immigrants are at the country’s doorstep — and at Iowa’s — and what seems to be hordes of refugees are seeking safety, he said.

“I’m not saying they’re bad people,” he added, acknowledging that he hasn’t noticed any increases in crime or a large influx of immigrants in town. But he doubted whether the latest groups of refugees would assimilate, and questioned why they should be “dropped off” in the Midwest. “What are they bringing to the country, to make this country better?”

Craig Snyder, 53, shook his head in disappointment as he walked briskly down a sidewalk two blocks away from Dawson. He’s lived in Iowa nearly 40 years and has often voted across party lines, he said. “I cannot go back to voting for any Republicans now,” he said. “Fearmongering on immigration isn’t the answer. And that’s what they’re doing.”

The area hasn’t seen any tangible problems because of a perceived influx of migrants, Snyder said — if anything, they fulfill critical roles in the state’s workforce, like on farms and meatpacking plants. Instead, leaders like Reynolds and Nunn suggest that Iowans face an active threat in the form of migrants, Snyder said. It’s not the Iowa he knows.

“It’s disconnected from the reality on the ground,” he said. “The language, it’s all coming from the top down. The way they’re talking, you think [immigrants] are taking over the country.”