The outcry currently spilling into the streets of Los Angeles in response to the latest ICE raids should have been predictable—but maybe that’s the point. This administration thrives on spectacle. It's entirely possible that the eruption of protest was not only anticipated, but welcomed. Yet, like a stubborn warlord on horseback, Trump’s assault on the City of Angels may not go as planned.
With Trump’s grandiose narcissism on full display and his deep animus toward anything remotely Mexican still burning, the deployment of federal troops begins to make a twisted kind of sense.
It’s a theatrical show of force against a population he deeply resents. It also aligns with his compulsive desire to control everything—including trade, even when he’s objectively terrible at it.
Despite his obvious failings, Trump boasted recently: "I own the store, and I set prices, and I'll say, if you want to shop here, this is what you have to pay.” The arrogance wasn’t subtle—and neither is the message on immigration.


Through the noise, the subtext has been clear: I own this country. I decide who gets to be here. The law bends to me. But this distorted worldview fails to grasp one fundamental truth: Los Angeles isn’t his kind of city.
Los Angeles has deep Mexican/Indigenous roots—and we wear them proudly. Nearly half of the city’s population is Latino, about 75 percent of whom are of Mexican or Chicano descent. Most of us are U.S.-born and we’re closely connected to immigrant communities, including many who are undocumented.
The idea that Trump can intimidate, criminalize, and remove us with a wave of troops and tanks is not only absurd—it’s offensive. We’ve seen soldiers in unmarked uniforms rolling through neighborhoods as if they were patrolling Fallujah. But this isn’t a war zone. This is Pico Union. This is Boyle Heights. This is Huntington Park. These are our homes. Our neighborhoods.
Trump’s deliberate demonization of immigrant communities has created real fear and exhaustion. When he labels protesters as “looters” and “rioters,” he isn’t just being inflammatory—he’s trying to dehumanize entire groups of people. Families. Workers. Students. He wants America to believe we’re a threat, not a community demanding dignity.

The use of militarized federal agents—masked, armed, and unidentifiable—isn’t about public safety. It’s about domination. It’s about staging an occupation of a Brown city, using fear to provoke conflict, then using that conflict to consolidate more power. Trump’s tactics aren’t designed to de-escalate; they’re meant to inflame.
Local leaders have been clear: they don’t need or want federal intervention. As Governor Gavin Newsom tweeted, “Trump is sending 2,000 National Guard troops into L.A. County—not to meet an unmet need, but to manufacture a crisis.” The goal isn’t resolution—it’s political theater. Chaos is the script.
Trump never bothered consulting local officials about what public safety actually requires—because he doesn’t care. He sees Los Angeles as expendable, its population as irrelevant to his political base. But in choosing L.A. as his battleground, he’s made a tactical mistake.
Trump is desperate for a distraction. His budget reconciliation bill—rife with cuts to Medicaid, food assistance, and affordable housing—is a political time bomb. It offers tax breaks to the wealthy and burdens working families. He needs a diversion to mask the economic damage he’s causing. But L.A. isn’t the stage he thinks it is. It’s a city that fights back.
Trump threatens to “liberate” the city—but from what, exactly? His own imagination, perhaps? What would an occupation even look like? How many troops would he need to deploy? And how would he declare victory?
It’s hard to believe this is the conversation we’re having in America today. It feels surreal—like something out of a bad movie.

How will the people of Los Angeles respond? So far, many have made it clear—they don’t like what their so-called exalted leader is serving up. But one thing is certain: this isn’t the 1930s. And it’s not the era of Operation Wetback in the 1950s.
Today, Mexicans/Chicanos, Central Americans, and all Latinos—together with our multiracial brothers and sisters—are better organized and more deeply rooted in every facet of society. We’re represented by our own elected officials. We are union members, educators, artists, lawyers, street vendors, and activists. And most importantly, we are not afraid.
The arrest of veteran union leader David Huerta, president of SEIU California and representative of over 45,000 janitors, airport workers, and security guards, has ignited the streets. It now appears that ICE agents are functioning as an occupying force, declaring war on community leaders without regard to their service, status, or the stability of the communities they help hold together.
To those who argue that ICE agents are “just doing their jobs,” it’s more complicated than that. When officers approach communities with aggression, arrogance, and a disregard for the people they’re impacting—when they fail to engage with basic humanity and ignore due process—they don’t just enforce the law; they undermine, if not violate, community trust. When they act without accountability, it’s no surprise that people feel compelled to push back.
Trump may be in for a long, drawn-out quagmire here in Los Angeles—not just because he’s a disconnected leader, but more importantly, because he refuses to see us.