For the United States, that paradigm shift helped inspire the Department of Homeland Security, which in turn created U.S. Customs and Border Protection, the largest, most visible element within DHS. (It’s the largest and most visible because CBP enforces more than 7,500 miles of land borders and 95,000 miles of coastline and waterways.) In CBP’s first year alone, the agency further developed such ideas as the Container Security Initiative; C-TPAT, the Customs-Trade Partnership Against Terrorism; the 24-hour rule; US-VISIT, to name just the tip of the iceberg, and turned them into concrete, operating programs. All part of the multi-layered approach (see Customs and Border Protection Today, April 2003), the interlocking lines of defense that fortify our borders, they collectively demonstrate that we will stand up to terrorism by any legal means necessary.

The genius of programs like CSI, C-TPAT, and the 24-hour rule is that they push our zone of security outward so that America’s borders are the last line of defense, not the first. Is there a bomb in that room-sized container of canned artichoke hearts? We’ll find it before it even leaves its foreign port.

Now, CBP is applying that same logic to individual travelers like the quick-change artist who travels with false documents or the Houdini wannabe who thinks he can slip through any tiny tear in our wall of defenses. Consider these real-life close calls:

December 2002. Richard Reid, better known to the world as the Shoe Bomber, tries to fly from Paris to Miami on December 21, but he raises enough concerns—he pays for his ticket in cash and has no checked bags—that airport officials question him for so long that he misses the flight. When he shows up the next day, his appearance—longhaired, disheveled, druggie—seems almost calculated to draw attention, say other passengers. Nonetheless, they let him on the plane, though passengers later subdue him in mid-air.

August 2001. Immigration Inspector Jose Melendez-Perez denies entry to Mohamed al-Qahtani, a Saudi national who has just deplaned at Orlando International Airport. Al-Qahtani is traveling on a genuine Saudi passport, has a valid U.S. B-2 visa, does not appear on any watch lists, and 9/11 hasn’t happened. Even so, after answering the standard entry questions about the purpose of his visit, al-Qahtani gives Melendez-Perez “the chills. It was a very strong sensation–I'll never forget it,” the officer told the 9/11 commission in January 2004. After consulting with his supervisor, Melendez-Perez uses his legal authority to deny Al-Qahtani entry into the United States, and two armed inspectors escort him to a flight back to Dubai. Four months later, the U.S. military captures him in Afghanistan, fighting alongside the Taliban.

Al-Qahtani was traveling to the United States from Dubai via London. What if he had never boarded in London, or better yet, in Dubai? Thanks to Melendez-Perez’s quick thinking and good judgment, he never entered the country, but how much money did it cost us to send him back?

Secretary of Homeland Security Tom Ridge has observed that the best way to prevent further terrorist attacks in the United States is to prevent terrorists and their weapons from entering the U.S. in the first place, as CSI seeks to do with cargo. Underway at 19 foreign ports, with another 22 having pledged to implement the program, CSI helps prevent containerized cargo from being exploited by terrorists. Working overseas, side by side with their host nation’s counterparts, CBP officers help pre-screen cargo and containers before they leave for the United States, identifying through automated information, intelligence, non-intrusive inspection technology and “smart” containers, those that pose security risks.

Under the direction of CBP Commissioner Robert Bonner, a CSI facsimile is also taking shape. It’s called the Immigration Security Initiative, or ISI.

In 1997, before the Immigration and Naturalization Service joined CBP, it sent 17 immigration control officers (ICOs) abroad to train and exchange critical information with host ports to prevent travelers identified as security threats, and others deemed inadmissible, from continuing on to the United States. CBP is reviving that program and invigorating it with its new blend of talents—the combination of immigration, customs, and agriculture inspectional expertise—along with the international sense of urgency that exists in the post-9/11 world.

By placing small teams of CBP officers at the world’s largest international airport hubs, ISI will push out our zone of security by inspecting passengers who may pose a risk for admissibility and to assure that they have valid, genuine entry documents before they board U.S.-bound aircraft. The program would thus provide a middle layer of defense between the American consular office abroad, which issues visas, and the U.S. port of arrival.

ISI also offers the promise of substantial cost savings both to government and to commercial air carriers. Under the Immigration and Nationality Act, CBP has exclusive authority to determine admissibility into the United States. Air carriers pay a penalty of $10,000 for transiting an alien found inadmissible to the U.S., plus the cost of returning that traveler. So not heeding a CBP officer’s advice on these matters would be bad business, bad for national security, and possibly for an airline’s public relations, as well.

Plus, some experts believe that ISI will pay for itself. Consider the experience of one of its parent programs, Operation Global Shield. In FY 2003, during a five-month pilot, Operation Global Shield resulted in 2,791 interceptions of inadmissible aliens bound for the United States. Because these interceptions were done on foreign soil, the U.S. government did not have to detain or process them on arrival, or pay to send them back. It is estimated that Operation Global Shield helped save the U.S. government more than $45 million in detention and processing costs, and airlines avoided more than $9 million in penalties and costs. But the Operation Global Shield deployment only cost the government $2.4 million, from which it benefited $45 million in avoided costs.

In FY 2003, the ICO Program initiated Operation Global Shield, a 5-month overseas interdiction operation, at a cost of $2.4 million. Global Shield resulted in: 2,791 interceptions of fraud/mala fide intent $46.5 million cost avoidance to the U.S. government $9.2 million fine avoidance to air carriers 482 alien smuggling cases identified and interdicted 158 smugglers and facilitators halted

ISI officers will not have legal authority in host countries; they will instead work in an advisory capacity with their foreign counterparts and with the airlines about whether particular or not individuals are admissible into the U.S.

The idea of American border-enforcement officers working abroad to disrupt or deter the onward movement of travelers with possible terrorist intentions is ready to take hold. Providing information to host countries on persons of interest will be a win-win for the United States and for our host countries as it further increases the web of security for both sides.