 Feminists also warn that migration regimes tend to reinforce existing forms of domination and even create new types of oppression. More specifically, they argue that migration, refugee, and citizenship discourses, policies, and practices often draw upon pernicious stereotypes and entho-nationalist tropes to construct gendered and racialized subjects that are, in turn, mobilized to justify the domination, exclusion, and marginalization of the individuals they are thought to represent. For instance, Cisneros argues that recent U.S. political debates about so-called “anchor babies” draw upon sexist and nationalist conceptions of women as reproducers of the ethnic nation, together with the racist notion of the “illegal alien,” to portray migrant women, particularly undocumented women, as an existential threat to the (white supremacist) nation (Cisneros 2013). This fictive subject is then taken to justify coercive immigration and citizenship policies designed to exclude migrant women of color and bar even U.S. born children of unauthorized migrants from citizenship. Similarly, Reed-Sandoval argues that the U.S. immigration regime, which she views as a “social-historical racial project that served to reorganize and redistribute resources by means of branding certain bodies as ’illegals’ in the United States,” has generated a unique social identity, which she calls “being socially undocumented” (Reed-Sandoval 2020, 86). Being socially undocumented is distinct from being legally undocumented in that it does not necessarily involve a lack of legal authorization, but rather membership in the social group of people who are subject to a common set of unjust, self-legitimating, “illegalizing,” immigration-related constraints, including racial profiling and police harassment, offensive stereotypes, and exploitative and degrading employment practices, on the basis of being perceived to be undocumented, regardless of immigration status. Finally, Oliver argues that that so-called humanitarian responses to the contemporary refugee crisis are governed by a similar self-justifying logic, which she calls carceral humanitarianism (Oliver 2017a, 2017b). According to this logic, refugees can justifiably be sorted into groups based on their perceived risk to host societies, made to prove the trauma that constitutes their case for asylum, confined to detention centers and refugee camps indefinitely, subjected to violence and denied basic human rights, and in many cases, treated like terrorist threats or prisoners of war. Merged with rescue politics, which represents refugees as helpless victims to be rescued and saved, carceral humanitarianism “turns refugees into criminals and charity cases simultaneously, which, in turn, becomes the troubling justification for locking them up or locking them in, increasingly in dangerous, disease-ridden and sorely inadequate conditions” (Oliver 2017b, 185).