Fellow Los Angeleno and American Prospect editor Dave Dayen went to the protest:
By happy coincidence, the city is currently bathed in purple. The jacaranda trees seem to bloom later and later every year, and right now they are dropping their violet flowers across streets and sidewalks. This served as an unintentional tribute to David Huerta, president of the California chapter of the purple-and-yellow-clad SEIU union, who as of Monday morning was detained in the bowels of the downtown Edward Roybal Federal Building for a third straight day.
In response, thousands of Angelenos flocked to Gloria Molina Grand Park to sing, dance, chant, and demand Huerta’s release. By mid-afternoon, they got it—along with a federal conspiracy charge that the Department of Homeland Security was in such haste to produce that they redacted the name of the special agent supplying claims in an affidavit, only to reveal that name halfway down the page. (It was Ryan Ribner.)
The crowd in Grand Park, and at a handful of downtown hotspots on Monday, mixed intense anger at Huerta’s detention, the immigration raids he was protesting when he was injured and arrested, and the presence of National Guard troops at the Roybal Federal Building, with determination, pride and even joy. You could see mini-reunions break out in the crowd, people reconnecting to join in common purpose. (I had a couple of these moments myself.) Los Angeles has thus far emerged from four days of protest with a clear set of goals: driving ICE, the National Guard, and apparently now the Marines from the city and county. And there’s a sense of this as a beginning, a cross between an organizing kickoff and a backyard barbeque, complete with the ubiquitous bacon-wrapped hot dog carts, manned by migrants as well.
The spasms of defiance, impressive though they may be, are scattered. Practically the entirety of the city is going about its business, blissfully unaware of what’s mainly taking place within a five-block radius. Even from block to block you could encounter nothing, followed by a combination of cries of “¡Chinga la migra!” (“Fuck the border patrol!”) and Tejano music. And while lingering images of burnt-out self-driving Waymo cars continue to play out on television and social media, the mood and spirit on Monday was overwhelmingly peaceful. The tensest standoff was led by clergy.
Trump’s escalation of federal forces may yet produce the violence he so eagerly seeks. But it’s just as important to note that these federal forces are not really doing anything, confined to the perimeter of the federal building and nowhere else. It’s unclear what Marines will do other than line up behind them. The front lines are manned by LAPD, armed with flash-bang grenades and less-lethal munitions and a gallery of other weaponry.
The idea that anyone must be deployed to defend heavily armed officers from “increased threats,” as Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth squawked Monday night, could not be more ludicrous, unless you identify threats as teenagers holding signs.
Read it all. This whole thing is a provocation for Trump to perform his manly, racist throwback strongman routine for the cult. Unfortunately the act requires massive human sacrifice.