To protect and serve

Maintenance of law and order is a prerequisite to the enjoyment of freedom in our society. Law enforcement is a critical responsibility of government, and effective enforcement requires mutual respect and understanding between a law enforcement agency and the residents of the community which it serves.

-McCone Commission, Violence in the City: An End or a Beginning?

Funny how after six days of burning, looting, and police brutality, this statement was as close to an apology as the LAPD could get. But over 40 years have passed since the Watts Riots of 1965 and the LAPD still hasn’t seemed to get things right. From the May 1^st – Mac Arthur Park melee, to the October 9 report reviewing the LAPD’s conduct at the immigration rally, the department has become significantly better at crafting the apology rather than following through with reform.

Five months of internal investigations have resulted in a surprisingly critical, 100-plus page self-assessment, ultimately assuming the police department’s responsibility over the May Day melee. But for a police department that is infamous for repetitive cycles of misconduct, self-evaluation and “reform,” the lessons learned and apologies made after May 1^st don’t necessarily translate into institutionalized change.

Written by Deputy Chief Michael Hillman, and LAPD Consent Decree head, Gerry Chaleff, the “Final Report on the Mac Arthur Park Incident” provides diagrams, training manual excerpts, and an accurate timeline of the march’s progression into chaos. Ultimately, the department accounts itself for six primary factors, or faults rather, that influenced the turn of events: planning; tactics, including force (e.g. baton and less-lethal munitions); command and control; situational awareness; training and lack thereof; and individual responsibility.

In all fairness, the LAPD’s intense self-scrutiny and recognition of blame is unprecedented. But as the police department’s uncharacteristic candor permeates throughout the report, it’s easy for skepticism and doubt to make room in between the lines.

For the LAPD, chaos and controversy have always prompted lessons to be learned and then disregarded once the next phase of social unrest rolls around. But even before the Watts Riots, December 25, 1951 also marks a signifcant moment of police brutality in LAPD history. In what came to be known as Bloody Christmas, approximately fifty LAPD officers brutally beat seven men in their custody, five of which who were of Mexican-American descent. Yet in disregard of the demands of community activists for police accountability, Chief William Parker launched a reform campaign based on a police professional model that stressed police autonomy by means of internal discipline.

Yes, times were different then. In comparison to today, racism during the 1950s was more overtly expressed, enacted, and unpunished under a thin veil encompassing the slightest standards of any “political correctness.” At any rate, events like this one served as a benchmark, helping to shape the LAPD into what it is today.

The fact is that the LAPD is not just a police department extolling a mission to “protect and serve” without much to show for it. Rather the LAPD is a manifestation of a history marked by police brutality, racism and scandal, embodying an organizational culture that values police authority and independence above the rule of law.

We’ve seen this culture in its finest moments during the Rodney King beatings in 1991, the resulting Los Angeles Riots of 1992, the Rampart scandals of the late 1990s and most recently with May Day. Among the footage caught by the media at the march, one officer was recorded yelling, “I don’t care if they’re not throwing stuff at us now…we get to roll.”

Accordingly, what has often been addressed is the apparent lack of common sense, especially among the Metropolitan Division, regardless of the lack of official crowd control training. For these officers, crowd dispersal – even among peaceful protestors – was immediately equated with brutal force. A peaceful rally resulted with police beating media to the ground; using batons to deliver heavy blows on people who were simply standing; and blindly shooting less-lethal rounds into crowds of women and children.

Not surprisingly, the one thing the report could not provide was any explanation for these policing errors, this grave failure in simple reasoning.

But in actuality, the reasoning is rather simple. Even the slightest bit of power can endow a sense of free reign within an insular and arrogant police culture. At Mac Arthur Park, police forces made plenty of room for their authority to be disposed of at will.

And when the subjects to be “controlled” and “subdued” are not just people of color, but immigrants as well, these people exist as an easily identifiable group, automatically labeled and treated as “the other.” With this type of identification follows the LAPD’s seemingly natural disposition toward establishing power and authority over them. Already socially and economically oppressed, their cries are rendered less significant by a police force that looms over them.

But as Angelenos can attest to, cases like these flare up time and time again. Tension brews between police and oppressed communities until finally something snaps, resulting with the LAPD promising to do better next time. But these are the vicious cycles that make people look over the report with weary eyes. It’s what makes Chief Bratton’s words go in one ear and out the other. And ultimately it’s what makes communities doubtful of a police force that they have been conditioned to distrust and fear.

I’m just waiting for the next time something snaps. I think I’ll be able to set my watch to it so I can tune out the apology that follows.