America's secret love for "illegals" It is the love that dare not speak its name. But thanks to the popular US reality show known as the Republican presidential campaign, it has been laid bare for all to see. I speak of the love Americans feel for illegal immigrants. We don't talk about it much because few people anywhere, apart from Charlie Sheen and mourners at funerals of suicide bombers, are comfortable with public displays of affection in connection with illegal activities. But it's real. The latest evidence comes courtesy of Paul Babeu, the elected sheriff of Pinal County, Arizona, and an outspoken advocate of tougher measures to prevent people from getting into the US illegally by crossing the rugged border that separates his state from Mexico. In recent years Mr Babeu's stance has made him a star in Arizona's Republican circles. He was in a television commercial as part of John McCain's 2010 campaign for re-election to the Senate, which featured the men discussing ways to stop illegal immigration and concluded with the sheriff saying: "Senator, you're one of us." This year Mr Babeu launched a bid for election to the US House of Representatives and signed on as co-chairman of Mitt Romney's presidential campaign in Arizona, raising his national profile. But Mr Babeu's public image changed this month when the Phoenix New Times reported allegations made by José Orozco, a 34-year-old Mexican immigrant. Mr Orozco claimed that he and Mr Babeu met in 2006 on a website for gay men, and then fell in and out of love. During the denouement of their years-long relationship, Mr Orozco alleged, Mr Babeu's attorney threatened him with deportation if he refused to sign an agreement promising never to discuss the affair. Mr Babeu, who is 43, said it was "completely false" that Mr Orozco had been threatened with deportation, and told reporters that he had believed the man was living in the US legally, according to the Associated Press. But Mr Babeu acknowledged being gay and having a personal relationship with Mr Orozco. While vowing to continue with his bid for a congressional seat, the sheriff stepped down from his voluntary job with the Romney campaign last Saturday, only days before the Arizona primary. Authorities, following up on a request from Mr Babeu, are looking into the allegations. But the most interesting part of this story for me involves the facts of the Babeu-Orozco relationship that are not in dispute, because they shed so much light on the complex relationships so many people in this country have with our "illegals." When it comes to immigration, Americans such as Mr Babeu are masters of the old Clintonian skill of compartmentalisation. In public displays, like his television ad with Mr McCain, Mr Babeu was a warrior, pronouncing Arizona "outmanned" at the border and ticking off the steps needed to stop illegal immigrants - including completing what Mr McCain called "the danged fence." In private Mr Babeu seems to have taken a more nuanced approach in dealing with arriving Mexicans. When one of those people crossing the border gave him something he needed, Mr Babeu felt love, allegedly. While I doubt that romantic relationships of this sort are widespread, I do think it is par for the course for people of Mr Babeu's circumstances - by which I mean comfortable, in a material sense - to form close ties with immigrants without knowing for sure whether they are in this country legally. It's part and parcel of the upscale life. Look behind any yuppie in this country and chances are you will see an immigrant - or two or three or more - standing in the shadows. There is no way that so many Americans could pursue the time-consuming careers and leisure activities they love without the support of recent arrivals who mow our lawns, clean our toilets, make our deliveries, clear our tables, cook our food and care for our children. We don't pay these people enough, but there is no denying the warmth our feelings for them when they are doing our dirty and difficult jobs. For all his criminal justice experience and obvious ideological fervour, Mr Babeu seems to have behaved like so many of us when he sat down in front of his computer and went looking for love or companionship or the fulfilment of some less elevated desire. When he met his match, and got what he wanted, he apparently didn't think to ask whether the Mexican who fulfilled his needs had all his papers in order. I suspect Mr Babeu didn't care very much at the time. Few people do.