Over the last two weeks, California has witnessed a wave of aggressive immigration enforcement that looks less like the pursuit of justice and more like a show of power.
Federal agents, arriving in unmarked vans, have stormed workplaces and communities across Southern California. They pulled people off the streets without explanation, chased workers through agricultural fields, and left families shattered in the process.
One of the most disturbing incidents involved a pregnant woman in Los Angeles. She was arrested while nine months along, only to be rushed to a hospital soon after her release.
In another case, a family with three young children — one just three years old — spent two nights in a federal office basement, deprived of adequate food and water. These are not isolated events.
They are part of a pattern: an operation where the lines between law enforcement and harassment have been deliberately blurred.
The speed and secrecy of the deportations are alarming. Several people taken during the raids were expelled from the country on the very same day, leaving little to no room for due process.
Even U.S. citizens were swept up, questioned, and detained. The numbers make the intent clear: arrests of people with no criminal charges or convictions skyrocketed from roughly 860 in January to nearly 7,800 this month — an increase of more than 800 percent.
By contrast, the number of arrests involving individuals with actual criminal records increased only 91 percent. The Trump administration keeps repeating that its mission is to go after “the worst of the worst.” The data prove otherwise.
This is not about public safety. It’s about spectacle. It’s about a White House that believes fear is a more powerful weapon than fairness.
Immigration enforcement is nothing new in California, but what we are seeing today is something different. These raids are not about measured law enforcement.
They are about quotas, intimidation, and headlines. Instead of focusing on border security and dangerous offenders — an approach that has historically garnered bipartisan support — the Trump administration has chosen mass deportation.
But Californians are not standing by in silence. In the past week alone, thousands took to the streets in peaceful protest, exercising their constitutional right to speak, to assemble, and to demand accountability.
From Los Angeles to San Jose, the crowds swelled, echoing California’s long tradition of civil resistance. This is, after all, the birthplace of the free speech movement.
Our local law enforcement agencies are experienced at managing demonstrations. The California Highway Patrol, the LAPD, and sheriff’s departments across the state were deployed last weekend to ensure security.
There were instances of vandalism and aggression, but officers acted swiftly to restore order. Those who chose violence will be prosecuted — because California does not excuse lawlessness.
But what we will not do is accept President Trump’s hypocrisy. He denounces lawlessness when it challenges him but excuses it when it serves his interests.
January 6 remains the clearest example: violent rioters stormed the U.S. Capitol, police officers were beaten, yet many were later pardoned or excused by the very man who claims to care about law and order.
Perhaps the most dangerous escalation came when President Trump, without consulting or receiving approval from state leadership, commandeered 4,000 California National Guard members.
Five years earlier, Trump himself had insisted that a governor must request such deployment. This time, he ignored his own words and the law.
As if that were not enough, he then dispatched more than 700 active-duty U.S. Marines into Los Angeles. These are service members trained for combat overseas — not for patrolling American streets.
We honor their courage and their service, but their role is not to police our neighborhoods. By militarizing communities, Trump has not only overstepped constitutional boundaries but betrayed the very traditions he claims to uphold.
The effect is chilling. Children hesitate to attend graduations. Workers are terrified to leave their homes. What should be safe, everyday moments — dropping a child at school, going to the grocery store — have been poisoned by fear. This is not protection. This is trauma.
California refuses to allow this authoritarian overreach to go unanswered. Already, we have filed 26 lawsuits against the Trump administration, challenging its unconstitutional actions.
Recently, a federal court affirmed that Trump’s commandeering of the California National Guard and his militarization of Los Angeles violated the law. That was one victory, but the fight is not over.
History teaches us a sobering truth: authoritarian regimes always begin by targeting the most vulnerable. But they never stop there.
If immigrants can be pulled from the streets without warrants, then anyone can be next. If families can be separated with no due process, then no community is safe.
What is happening in California is part of a larger crisis. In barely 140 days, President Trump has removed independent government watchdogs, undermined the judiciary, and attempted to rewrite the rules of oversight.
He has attacked science, censored universities, erased databases, and even attempted to dictate what our schools can teach.
Journalists and news outlets have been vilified as enemies of the state. Public officials who speak out — from U.S. Senator Alex Padilla, who was physically restrained while asking a question, to Newark Mayor Ras Baraka, who was arrested during a visit to a detention center — have faced intimidation and retaliation.
Our system of government was built to resist exactly this kind of abuse. The Founders rejected monarchy because they believed no single man should hold unchecked power.
But there is hope, and it does not rest in the halls of power. It rests with ordinary citizens. Former Supreme Court Justice Louis Brandeis once said: “In a democracy, the most important political office is that of the private citizen.” Not president, not governor, not senator — but citizen.
The greatest threat to democracy is not anger or protest. It is silence. Trump’s strategy depends on fear, on people becoming so overwhelmed and exhausted that they give up their voices.
Across California and across the country, people are already answering that call. They are marching, organizing, writing, voting, and holding leaders accountable. They are refusing to accept cruelty as policy or intimidation as law.
So let us be clear: This is not just about Los Angeles. Not just about California. It is about all of us. This is about the right to live without fear, the right to speak freely, the right to be treated with dignity. It is about democracy itself.
And democracy, fragile as it may seem, is strongest when the people defend it. Do not give in to fear. Do not remain silent. Do not let him win.
