As broken as Washington has become, immigration had seemed like the one issue our elected leaders might be capable of handling in 2014. The politics, for one thing, appeared relatively easy. Fears about “border security” had faded alongside Lou Dobbs’ career: The migration flow of undocumented immigrants had fallen to net zero by 2012, down from a growth of 400,000 per year under George W. Bush. And congressional Republicans had strong incentive to cooperate with Democrats on comprehensive immigration reform, for reasons of basic self-preservation (what with the exploding Latino electorate) and with deep pressure coming from the business community. Beyond all of that, it seemed unfathomable - un-American, really - to allow the dysfunction hobbling our immigration system to continue, when the immigrant remains so fundamental to our self-identity, our foundational myth. To reject this aspect of America would feel like an act of nihilism, a national death wish akin to the Italian parliament suddenly deciding to ban carbohydrates, Australia paving all of its beaches, Jamaica’s state radio switching to an all-metal format.