latimes--2020-10-18--Column: The Corrido of 'Amigo' Biden: How the presidential candidate finally got his Mexican ballad

For over 200 years , the Mexican corrido has told stories of derring-do about heroes and villains and hero-villains galore .
The ballad form naturally carried over to the United States , and eventually caught on to American politics , where heroes and villains ( and hero-villains ) rule .
JFK got dozens to mark his assassination ; one hailed Jimmy Carter as the “ peanut king.
” La Hillary earned some too , including “ El Corrido de Hillary Clinton , ” a lazy effort released in 2016 by ranchera icon Vicente Fernandez that repurposed an old hit of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Clinton .
And we all know how that turned out .
Oh , she got the popular vote .
But apparently Chente never heard of el electoral college .
President Trump has appeared in a few , inevitably cast as a bad hombre — and not in a cool way .
Tio Bernie ?
A jammin ’ one called “ El Quemazón ” ( “ The Bern ” ) .
But Uncle Joe Biden ?
He just doesn ’ t inspire the same feelings among Latinos — whether hatred or love — as @ @ @ @ @ @ @ left largely corrido-less until the Diaz brothers decided to do something about it .
And the way they put together “ La Señal es Joe y Kamala ” ( “ The Signal Is Joe and Kamala ” ) was so Los Angeles circa 2020 : Take two natives of Watts — David ’ s a music producer , Elvis is a political science undergrad at Columbia University .
Throw in a songwriter based in Chiapas , the southernmost state in Mexico .
Find a norteño band in Las Vegas to record the track @ @ @ @ @ @ @ nightclub in small-town Georgia .
“ La Señal ” by La Nueva Onda Norteña starts with a flourish of notes plucked off a bajo sexto ( 12-string guitar ) by singer Selwyn Gonzalez .
As images drawn from Biden ’ s career flash on a screen behind the band , Gonzalez croons out what a vote for the Democratic presidential candidate would bring to Latinos : Respect .
Hope .
Walls that tumble down .
“ The signal/I see the signal , ” the song ’ s chorus proclaims .
“ Of a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Strangely , the easy villain for such a tale is nowhere to be found .
Trump is not even mentioned .
Instead , La Nueva Onda Norteña ’ s swaying song offers something absent in electoral politics these days : optimism .
The expectations for “ La Señal ” are modest for David , who spent about $ 1,500 of his own money to produce it .
“ If we change the mind of one person , I ’ ll be happy , ” said the 28-year-old via phone from Mexico .
“ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ At fewer than 4,000 YouTube hits , it probably won ’ t .
Elvis sent the song to Biden ’ s team , which hasn ’ t responded ; instead , they used songs by Vicente Fernandez ’ s son , Alejandro , and reggaetón superstar Bad Bunny to score campaign commercials .
But the corrido does show how this election has inspired Mexican American men who previously didn ’ t care for American politics to jump into the fray .
Those who have gravitated toward Trump because of a sense that he @ @ @ @ @ @ @ are getting mucho media attention .
But the Diaz brothers and La Nueva Onda Norteña represent the silent majority of these señores : men who care for their family and community and long saw their ceaseless work , not elections , as the way forward for Latinos .
It ’ s also an inadvertent call-out to the modern-day Mexican regional music industry in the United States , which has a surprisingly long history with American presidential campaigns beyond merely chronicling them .
Mariachis serenaded JFK the night before his death , and Richard @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Ranchera legend Antonio Aguilar was a friend of Ronald Reagan .
Vicente Fernandez even performed at the 2000 Republican National Convention .
Today ?
The industry finds it easier to praise avarice and any number of narco lords than American democracy .
Or democracy , period .
“ We Mexicans all have a friend who was born here but doesn ’ t want to vote , ” Gonzalez said .
“ That it doesn ’ t matter .
But we need them to get conscious.
” “ Before this , my interest in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
“ But we need a change .
Something different from what Trump is doing .
And I needed to do something.
” David takes pains to differentiate himself from Elvis — the brother , not the King .
“ He ’ s more on the side of smartness , ” he said .
“ He goes to Columbia .
Me , I ’ m more the streets .
I know Mexican music.
” Elvis , a 30-year-old who has worked for the Thai and Peruvian consulates in the United States and as @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to the United Nations , never bothered talking politics with his younger brother .
“ He ’ s a businessman , and doesn ’ t want to lose any potential income , ” Elvis said .
“ But we all need to participate this year.
” Knowing the social buzz that the Bernie Sanders corrido earned during the 2016 Democratic presidential primaries , Elvis pitched his idea to his brother .
After a couple of deep talks , David agreed .
“ People don ’ t understand the power of a vote until @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
“ And this election definitely will.
” David reached out to a previous collaborator , Hunab Mandujano .
Even though he ’ s based in Chiapas , the 28-year-old was “ happy and excited ” to write something about Biden .
“ We [ in Mexico ] know about what ’ s going on up there , and the racist language Trump uses , and not just about Mexicans , ” Mandujano said .
The Diaz brothers offered only one suggestion : Don ’ t focus on Trump , because that corrido @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ranted the president is “ crazier than a goat ” .
Or a “ pinche payaso ” in another .
And those are the insults we can print .
“ Look , I ’ m into marketing , ” David said .
“ All that [ trash ] -talking on Trump helps him.
” He ’ s right .
Because if you ’ ve heard one anti-45 corrido or Facebook screed , for that matter , you ’ ve heard them all .
Obsessive hate offers no way forward other than to hate @ @ @ @ @ @ @ he “ wanted us to show positivity.
” So Mandujano read articles about Biden and heard his speeches , and delivered something within a week .
“ Joe ’ s smile , ” Mandujano said .
“ He ’ s also a more analytical person and firmer [ than Trump ] .
And he can do a lot of good for the American project.
” The Diaz brothers then sent “ La Señal ” to Gonzalez , who admitted it was initially “ a bit of a challenge ” to figure his way @ @ @ @ @ @ @ is more used to singing love songs .
“ Politics is a subject that can bring you a lot of repercussions , good or bad , ” Gonzalez said .
But the American-born 30-year-old reflected on his parents , former undocumented immigrants .
He thought of Nevada , a formerly deep-red state where Latinos are now a swing vote .
And so he sang “ La Señal ” with “ those feelings ” in mind .
The singer got so into it , that he ad-libbed in Spanish “ Now , let ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ amigo Biden — hell ya !
” halfway through the tune .
“ It has a lot of the qualities of what makes a good campaign song , ” said Dana Gorzelany-Mostak , music professor at Georgia College .
She studies the use of songs in presidential campaigns .
“ You have to have the marriage of inspirational lyrics , good music , and great hooks .
It has an exuberance to it .
Even if you don ’ t know the language , you get the emotions.
” The plan was to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ for Gonzalez and his bandmates to play a live concert while Biden visited Nevada earlier this month .
But “ the timing just didn ’ t work out , ” and a tour for La Nueva Onda Norteña across the South was forthcoming .
So the song debuted in a club in Moultree , Ga. , a city of about 14,000 in southern Georgia near a major chicken-processing plant .
Gonzalez said the audience was mostly Salvadorans and Guatemalans , but “ they liked it.
” The club promoter , on the other @ @ @ @ @ @ @ like , ‘ What was up with that corrido ?
’ ” he said .
“ He was nervous about being seen as political .
But there ’ s always a first time for something .
”

Frame grab from the video “La Señal es Joe y Kamala (The Signal Is Joe and Kamala)” by La Nueva Onda Norteña
For over 200 years, the Mexican corrido has told stories of derring-do about heroes and villains and hero-villains galore.
The ballad form naturally carried over to the United States, and eventually caught on to American politics, where heroes and villains (and hero-villains) rule. JFK got dozens to mark his assassination; one hailed Jimmy Carter as the “peanut king.”
La Hillary earned some too, including “El Corrido de Hillary Clinton,” a lazy effort released in 2016 by ranchera icon Vicente Fernandez that repurposed an old hit of his to tell fans to vote for Clinton.
Advertisement
And we all know how that turned out. Oh, she got the popular vote. But apparently Chente never heard of el electoral college.
President Trump has appeared in a few, inevitably cast as a bad hombre — and not in a cool way. Tio Bernie? A jammin’ one called “El Quemazón” (“The Bern”).
But Uncle Joe Biden? He just doesn’t inspire the same feelings among Latinos — whether hatred or love — as Trump or Sanders.
A mariachi band waits to perform before a January campaign event for Democratic presidential candidate Joe Biden in Las Vegas. (John Locher / Associated Press)
So he was left largely corrido-less until the Diaz brothers decided to do something about it.
And the way they put together “La Señal es Joe y Kamala” (“The Signal Is Joe and Kamala”) was so Los Angeles circa 2020:
Take two natives of Watts — David’s a music producer, Elvis is a political science undergrad at Columbia University.
Throw in a songwriter based in Chiapas, the southernmost state in Mexico.
Advertisement
Find a norteño band in Las Vegas to record the track.
Have them debut it at a nightclub in small-town Georgia.
Release it on YouTube.
“La Señal” by La Nueva Onda Norteña starts with a flourish of notes plucked off a bajo sexto (12-string guitar) by singer Selwyn Gonzalez. As images drawn from Biden’s career flash on a screen behind the band, Gonzalez croons out what a vote for the Democratic presidential candidate would bring to Latinos: Respect. Hope. Walls that tumble down.
“The signal/I see the signal,” the song’s chorus proclaims. “Of a new era/Of a change for real.”
Strangely, the easy villain for such a tale is nowhere to be found. Trump is not even mentioned.
Instead, La Nueva Onda Norteña’s swaying song offers something absent in electoral politics these days: optimism.
The expectations for “La Señal” are modest for David, who spent about $1,500 of his own money to produce it.
“If we change the mind of one person, I’ll be happy,” said the 28-year-old via phone from Mexico. “But hopefully, it changes millions.”
At fewer than 4,000 YouTube hits, it probably won’t. Elvis sent the song to Biden’s team, which hasn’t responded; instead, they used songs by Vicente Fernandez’s son, Alejandro, and reggaetón superstar Bad Bunny to score campaign commercials.
But the corrido does show how this election has inspired Mexican American men who previously didn’t care for American politics to jump into the fray.
Those who have gravitated toward Trump because of a sense that he’s a macho’s macho are getting mucho media attention. But the Diaz brothers and La Nueva Onda Norteña represent the silent majority of these señores: men who care for their family and community and long saw their ceaseless work, not elections, as the way forward for Latinos.
Until now.
It’s also an inadvertent call-out to the modern-day Mexican regional music industry in the United States, which has a surprisingly long history with American presidential campaigns beyond merely chronicling them. Mariachis serenaded JFK the night before his death, and Richard Nixon at his 1973 inauguration gala. Ranchera legend Antonio Aguilar was a friend of Ronald Reagan. Vicente Fernandez even performed at the 2000 Republican National Convention.
Today? The industry finds it easier to praise avarice and any number of narco lords than American democracy. Or democracy, period.
“We Mexicans all have a friend who was born here but doesn’t want to vote,” Gonzalez said. “That it doesn’t matter. But we need them to get conscious.”
“Before this, my interest in politics was zero,” admitted David. “But we need a change. Something different from what Trump is doing. And I needed to do something.”
**
Joe Biden walks on a picket line with members of the Culinary Workers Union Local 226 outside the Palms Casino in Las Vegas in February. (Patrick Semansky / Associated Press)
David takes pains to differentiate himself from Elvis — the brother, not the King. “He’s more on the side of smartness,” he said. “He goes to Columbia. Me, I’m more the streets. I know Mexican music.”
Elvis, a 30-year-old who has worked for the Thai and Peruvian consulates in the United States and as a speechwriter for Mozambique’s ambassador to the United Nations, never bothered talking politics with his younger brother.
“He’s a businessman, and doesn’t want to lose any potential income,” Elvis said. “But we all need to participate this year.”
Knowing the social buzz that the Bernie Sanders corrido earned during the 2016 Democratic presidential primaries, Elvis pitched his idea to his brother. After a couple of deep talks, David agreed.
“People don’t understand the power of a vote until it affects them,” he said. “And this election definitely will.”
David reached out to a previous collaborator, Hunab Mandujano. Even though he’s based in Chiapas, the 28-year-old was “happy and excited” to write something about Biden.
“We [in Mexico] know about what’s going on up there, and the racist language Trump uses, and not just about Mexicans,” Mandujano said. The Diaz brothers offered only one suggestion: Don’t focus on Trump, because that corrido market was already full of songs that ranted the president is “crazier than a goat” . Or a “pinche payaso” in another. And those are the insults we can print.
“Look, I’m into marketing,” David said. “All that [trash]-talking on Trump helps him.”
He’s right. Because if you’ve heard one anti-45 corrido or Facebook screed, for that matter, you’ve heard them all. Obsessive hate offers no way forward other than to hate some more.
Instead, David said he “wanted us to show positivity.”
So Mandujano read articles about Biden and heard his speeches, and delivered something within a week.
His ultimate inspiration?
“Joe’s smile,” Mandujano said. “He’s also a more analytical person and firmer [than Trump]. And he can do a lot of good for the American project.”
The Diaz brothers then sent “La Señal” to Gonzalez, who admitted it was initially “a bit of a challenge” to figure his way musically around the subject. His group is more used to singing love songs.
“Politics is a subject that can bring you a lot of repercussions, good or bad,” Gonzalez said.
But the American-born 30-year-old reflected on his parents, former undocumented immigrants. He thought of Nevada, a formerly deep-red state where Latinos are now a swing vote. And so he sang “La Señal” with “those feelings” in mind. The singer got so into it, that he ad-libbed in Spanish “Now, let’s go out to vote for the amigo Biden — hell ya!” halfway through the tune.
“It has a lot of the qualities of what makes a good campaign song,” said Dana Gorzelany-Mostak, music professor at Georgia College. She studies the use of songs in presidential campaigns. “You have to have the marriage of inspirational lyrics, good music, and great hooks. It has an exuberance to it. Even if you don’t know the language, you get the emotions.”
The plan was to debut “La Señal” in time for Gonzalez and his bandmates to play a live concert while Biden visited Nevada earlier this month. But “the timing just didn’t work out,” and a tour for La Nueva Onda Norteña across the South was forthcoming.
So the song debuted in a club in Moultree, Ga., a city of about 14,000 in southern Georgia near a major chicken-processing plant. Gonzalez said the audience was mostly Salvadorans and Guatemalans, but “they liked it.”
The club promoter, on the other hand …
“He was at first like, ‘What was up with that corrido?’” he said. “He was nervous about being seen as political. But there’s always a first time for something.”


latimes--2020-10-18--Proposition 16 asks Californians to give affirmative action another try

The end of affirmation action in California came almost a quarter-century ago , a time when people took to the streets in Los Angeles and San Francisco to protest racial inequality and as a presidential election stoked deep divisions in the state .
Now , Californians have the opportunity in the Nov. 3 election to decide whether to erase that decision , made by voters who supported Proposition 209 in 1996 .
Proposition 16 would allow the reinstatement of affirmative action programs in California and repeal the decades-old ban on preferential treatment by public colleges and other government agencies based @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Eva Paterson of the Equal Rights Society , an Oakland-based civil rights organization advocating for Proposition 16 , said the real-world lessons of 2020 dispelled any notion that America is a colorblind society .
Black and Latino people have suffered the brunt of the devastation caused by the COVID-19 pandemic , including disproportionately high death rates , unemployment and financial ruin , Paterson said .
And the nation witnessed the brutality of police violence against Black men and women , including the video-recorded killing of George Floyd while in the custody of Minneapolis @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of Breonna Taylor in Louisville , Ky. “ White America can no longer say , ‘ Oh , I don ’ t see color , we ’ re post-racial , ’ ” Paterson said .
“ People of color are treated differently .
One way that people can act on their desire to eliminate systemic racism is to vote for Proposition 16 .
It gives people of color , and women , more power , more money .
If you have more money you have more access , more clout in the political @ @ @ @ @ @ @ universities , including the University of California and California State systems , would be allowed to consider race , sex , color , ethnicity , or national origin to address diversity in admissions and other programs .
Both state and local governments would be allowed to consider those same factors when hiring government employees and awarding government contracts .
The proposition , placed on the ballot by the Democrat-controlled California Legislature , would repeal Proposition 209 , a highly controversial measure approved by voters in 1996 .
Ward Connerly , a former UC @ @ @ @ @ @ @ efforts to end affirmative action across the country , said Proposition 16 runs counter to the notion that a person should be accepted by a university or hired by a public agency “ on the basis of his or her individual merit.
” Connerly , who is Black , likened the preferences barred in the ballot measure to the favoritism received by the sons and daughters of Hollywood stars and other wealthy parents in the recent college admissions scandal .
“ Neither race or ethnic preferences , or fat-cat preferences , are consistent @ @ @ @ @ @ @ have on the issue of fairness for every person , ” Connerly said .
California voters approved Proposition 209 in an era steeped in division , a time that brought about the eventual declineof the Republican Party ’ s power in the state and the steady political ascension of Latino people .
From 1994 to 1998 , Republican Gov .
Pete Wilson , backed by party leaders , successfully championed Proposition 187 to strip government services from immigrants who entered the country illegally , Proposition 209 to end affirmative action and Proposition 227 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ schools .
Latino people have since become the largest ethnic group in the state , and from 1996 to 2016 , their share of the electorate more than doubled to an estimated 23 % .
Former Los Angeles Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa once said the “ mean-spirited , cynical ploy ” by Republicans to push Proposition 187 created a generation of Latino Democrats .
In 1996 , Proposition 209 passed with 54 % of the vote .
An exit poll by the Los Angeles Times at the time found that Black , Latino and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , while white voters were strongly in favor .
As a result of Proposition 209 , Paterson said businesses owned by women and people of color have lost out on billions of dollars worth of government contracts to larger , more established companies — firms with owners who tend to be white and male .
That has made it even more difficult for budding companies owned by Black , Latino and Asian American people and women to get off the ground , and instead helps “ larger male-owned companies that with their high-price @ @ @ @ @ @ @ favor for decades , ” Oakland Mayor Libby Schaaf said .
“ I ’ ve seen firsthand how the state ’ s investment in women and minority-owned businesses can make or break long-term success , ” Schaaf said .
“ Prop .
16 is the solution we need to help level the playing field.
” A UC Berkeley study released in August found that California ’ s ban on affirmative action significantly harmed Black and Latino students by reducing their enrollment at UC campuses as well as lowering their graduation rates and driving @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Richard Sander , a UCLA economist and law professor who opposes Proposition 16 , challenged the findings in the Berkeley study .
A self-described liberal Democrat , Sander claimed that his studies show Proposition 209 drove UC to help boost the academic preparation of students of color , which he said helped increase college graduation rates that exceeded those when affirmative action programs were in place .
Tom Campbell , a former Republican congressman from the Bay Area who supported Proposition 209 in 1996 , said that if the ballot measure is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ have the power to pick winners and losers .
“ Is it right for the state of California to tell students , you ’ re not going to be admitted because of your race , if your race were different , you would be admitted ?
” said Campbell , now a law professor at Chapman University ’ s Fowler School of Law .
Campbell said that when he served as dean of Berkeley ’ s business school following the passage of Proposition 209 , the program was very successful at recruiting students @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
The school did consider an applicant ’ s income , whether they were the first in the family to go to college and where they went to high school , he said .
Campbell said that he agrees that the “ legacy of slavery and Jim Crow have not disappeared ” and inequality continues to exist .
But he doesn ’ t believe that reinstating affirmative action programs is the most effective way to address the problem .
Two recent polls show Proposition 16 faces strong opposition and tepid support .
A @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in mid-September found that just 31 % of likely California voters surveyed said they would vote for the proposal , while 47 % said they oppose it .
A poll by UC Berkeley ’ s Institute of Governmental Studies had similar overall findings that same month .
“ I think there are still a lot of people who don ’ t understand what affirmative action is .
They ’ re still hung up on quotas and set-asides , ” said Matthew Mendez Garcia , a political scientist at Long Beach State .
“ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 1990s and it just dropped off the radar.
” Mendez Garcia believes that once California voters are informed about the measure and how it could deliver equality of opportunity , support will grow .
Proponents of Proposition 16 have raised roughly $ 15 million and launched a statewide advertising campaign in English and Spanish .
Major donors include Northern California attorney Quinn Delaney , chair of Akonadi Foundation , which advocates for social change ; as well as the Kaiser Foundation , California Teachers Assn.
, and Los Angeles Clippers owner and former @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Supporters have outraised groups opposing the measure by more than 12 to 1 .
Proposition 16 has also been endorsed by all of California ’ s top Democratic political leaders , including Gov .
Gavin Newsom , Sens .
Dianne Feinstein and Kamala Harris and Los Angeles Mayor Eric Garcetti .
The UC Board of Regents supported the measure , as did the Cal State University Board of Trustees and the California Community College Board of Governors .
Opponents include the California Republican Party , Orange County Board of Supervisors Chairwoman and congressional @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Civic Action Alliance .
Thomas Saenz , president of the Mexican American Legal Defense and Educational Fund , said that one of the biggest concerns raised in the past about affirmative action , mandating quotas , should be a nonissue since the practice is banned under federal law and U.S. Supreme Court rulings .
Still , federal law permits the government to consider race in limited circumstances as one of several factors when it comes to university admissions , public contracts and hiring teachers , police officers and other government workers .
Because @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in this state in the past have been afraid to even compile data on disparities for fear of running afoul of Proposition 209 and being sued , though that has been changing in recent years , he said .
“ Nobody does the kind of deep analysis on racial and gender disparity that you would go through in order to consider a race-conscious or gender-conscious affirmative action program , ” Saenz said .
“ No elected policymaker wants to highlight an issue like racial disparities when they ’ re not going to be @ @ @ @ @ @ @ it .
”

Students rally at UCLA in support of Proposition 16. Proposition 16 would overturn California’s ban on affirmative action, potentially creating opportunities for Latino, Black, Asian and women-owned companies to win contracts for millions of dollars in public contracts.
The end of affirmative action in California came almost a quarter-century ago, a time when people took to the streets in Los Angeles and San Francisco to protest racial inequality and as a presidential election stoked deep divisions in the state.
Now, Californians have the opportunity in the Nov. 3 election to decide whether to erase that decision, made by voters who supported Proposition 209 in 1996.
Proposition 16 would allow the reinstatement of affirmative action programs in California and repeal the decades-old ban on preferential treatment by public colleges and other government agencies based on race, ethnicity or sex.
Eva Paterson of the Equal Rights Society, an Oakland-based civil rights organization advocating for Proposition 16, said the real-world lessons of 2020 dispelled any notion that America is a colorblind society.
Black and Latino people have suffered the brunt of the devastation caused by the COVID-19 pandemic, including disproportionately high death rates, unemployment and financial ruin, Paterson said. And the nation witnessed the brutality of police violence against Black men and women, including the video-recorded killing of George Floyd while in the custody of Minneapolis police, and the police shooting death of Breonna Taylor in Louisville, Ky.
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“White America can no longer say, ‘Oh, I don’t see color, we’re post-racial,’” Paterson said. “People of color are treated differently. One way that people can act on their desire to eliminate systemic racism is to vote for Proposition 16. It gives people of color, and women, more power, more money. If you have more money you have more access, more clout in the political system.”
New student Olivia Murphy, 20, left in white top, takes her family on a tour of Cal State Fullerton in August. (Irfan Khan/Los Angeles Times)
Under Proposition 16, public universities, including the University of California and California State systems, would be allowed to consider race, sex, color, ethnicity, or national origin to address diversity in admissions and other programs. Both state and local governments would be allowed to consider those same factors when hiring government employees and awarding government contracts.
The proposition, placed on the ballot by the Democrat-controlled California Legislature, would repeal Proposition 209, a highly controversial measure approved by voters in 1996.
Ward Connerly, a former UC regent who championed Proposition 209 and led efforts to end affirmative action across the country, said Proposition 16 runs counter to the notion that a person should be accepted by a university or hired by a public agency “on the basis of his or her individual merit.”
Connerly, who is Black, likened the preferences barred in the ballot measure to the favoritism received by the sons and daughters of Hollywood stars and other wealthy parents in the recent college admissions scandal.
“Neither race or ethnic preferences, or fat-cat preferences, are consistent with the public trust that we should have on the issue of fairness for every person,” Connerly said.
Advertisement
California voters approved Proposition 209 in an era steeped in division, a time that brought about the eventual declineof the Republican Party’s power in the state and the steady political ascension of Latino people.
From 1994 to 1998, Republican Gov. Pete Wilson, backed by party leaders, successfully championed Proposition 187 to strip government services from immigrants who entered the country illegally, Proposition 209 to end affirmative action and Proposition 227 to effectively ban bilingual education in public schools.
Latino people have since become the largest ethnic group in the state, and from 1996 to 2016, their share of the electorate more than doubled to an estimated 23%. Former Los Angeles Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa once said the “mean-spirited, cynical ploy” by Republicans to push Proposition 187 created a generation of Latino Democrats.
In 1996, Proposition 209 passed with 54% of the vote. An exit poll by the Los Angeles Times at the time found that Black, Latino and Asian voters all overwhelmingly opposed the measure, while white voters were strongly in favor.
As a result of Proposition 209, Paterson said businesses owned by women and people of color have lost out on billions of dollars’ worth of government contracts to larger, more established companies — firms with owners who tend to be white and male.
That has made it even more difficult for budding companies owned by Black, Latino and Asian American people and women to get off the ground, and instead helps “larger male-owned companies that with their high-price lobbyists have rigged the rules in their favor for decades,” Oakland Mayor Libby Schaaf said.
“I’ve seen firsthand how the state’s investment in women and minority-owned businesses can make or break long-term success,” Schaaf said. “Prop. 16 is the solution we need to help level the playing field.”
A UC Berkeley study released in August found that California’s ban on affirmative action significantly harmed Black and Latino students by reducing their enrollment at UC campuses as well as lowering their graduation rates and driving down wages when they entered the workforce.
Richard Sander, a UCLA economist and law professor who opposes Proposition 16, challenged the findings in the Berkeley study. A self-described liberal Democrat, Sander claimed that his studies show Proposition 209 drove UC to help boost the academic preparation of students of color, which he said helped increase college graduation rates that exceeded those when affirmative action programs were in place.
Tom Campbell, a former Republican congressman from the Bay Area who supported Proposition 209 in 1996, said that if the ballot measure is repealed, California’s universities will have the power to pick winners and losers.
“Is it right for the state of California to tell students, you’re not going to be admitted because of your race, if your race were different, you would be admitted?” said Campbell, now a law professor at Chapman University’s Fowler School of Law.
Campbell said that when he served as dean of Berkeley’s business school following the passage of Proposition 209, the program was very successful at recruiting students from underrepresented backgrounds into its masters program. The school did consider an applicant’s income, whether they were the first in the family to go to college and where they went to high school, he said.
Campbell said that he agrees that the “legacy of slavery and Jim Crow have not disappeared” and inequality continues to exist. But he doesn’t believe that reinstating affirmative action programs is the most effective way to address the problem.
Two recent polls show Proposition 16 faces strong opposition and tepid support. A Public Policy Institute of California poll released in mid-September found that just 31% of likely California voters surveyed said they would vote for the proposal, while 47% said they oppose it. A poll by UC Berkeley’s Institute of Governmental Studies had similar overall findings that same month.
“I think there are still a lot of people who don’t understand what affirmative action is. They’re still hung up on quotas and set-asides,” said Matthew Mendez Garcia, a political scientist at Cal State Long Beach. “It was a huge issue in the 1990s and it just dropped off the radar.”
Mendez Garcia believes that once California voters are informed about the measure and how it could deliver equality of opportunity, support will grow.
Proponents of Proposition 16 have raised roughly $15 million and launched a statewide advertising campaign in English and Spanish. Major donors include Northern California attorney Quinn Delaney, chair of Akonadi Foundation, which advocates for social change; as well as the Kaiser Foundation, California Teachers Assn., and Los Angeles Clippers owner and former Microsoft Chief Executive Officer Steve Ballmer. Supporters have outraised groups opposing the measure by more than 12 to 1.
Proposition 16 has also been endorsed by all of California’s top Democratic political leaders, including Gov. Gavin Newsom, Sens. Dianne Feinstein and Kamala Harris and Los Angeles Mayor Eric Garcetti. The UC Board of Regents supported the measure, as did the Cal State University Board of Trustees and the California Community College Board of Governors.
Opponents include the California Republican Party, Orange County Board of Supervisors Chairwoman and congressional candidate Michelle Steel and the Chinese American Civic Action Alliance.
Thomas Saenz, president of the Mexican American Legal Defense and Educational Fund, said that one of the biggest concerns raised in the past about affirmative action, mandating quotas, should be a nonissue since the practice is banned under federal law and U.S. Supreme Court rulings.
Still, federal law permits the government to consider race in limited circumstances as one of several factors when it comes to university admissions, public contracts and hiring teachers, police officers and other government workers. Because that is outlawed in California, agencies in this state in the past have been afraid to even compile data on disparities for fear of running afoul of Proposition 209 and being sued, though that has been changing in recent years, he said.
“Nobody does the kind of deep analysis on racial and gender disparity that you would go through in order to consider a race-conscious or gender-conscious affirmative action program,” Saenz said. “No elected policymaker wants to highlight an issue like racial disparities when they’re not going to be able to take aggressive steps to fix it.”
Times staff writer Teresa Watanabe contributed to this report.


latimes--2020-10-18--Column One: At USC, 2 determined women spoke out. Ugly attacks over racism, anti-Semitism, Zionism t

Column One: At USC, 2 determined women spoke out. Ugly attacks over racism, anti-Semitism, Zionism took over

They were born in different countries , with disparate cultures and faiths .
But the two students shared a common dream to attend USC .
Rose Ritch , a San Francisco native , came to USC to study dance but soon widened her academic interests to sociology , law , history and culture .
Socially , too , she thrived : winning election as student body vice president in February , nurturing her strong Jewish identity through the Hillel organization and Trojans for Israel .
Abeer Tijani left Nigeria as a toddler and grew up in a diverse Dallas suburb @ @ @ @ @ @ @ she ranked in the top tier of her class , played soccer and flute and served in student government .
The achievements helped her land a full-ride merit scholarship to USC to study global health and social entrepreneurship .
The two women , both seniors , have never met .
But their worlds collided this summer when Tijani launched an effort to impeach the then-student body president , Truman Fritz , and Ritch amid the national fury over George Floyd ’ s killing and the Black Lives Matter movement .
Tijani says she @ @ @ @ @ @ @ racism .
Ritch feels she was targeted because she supports Zionism — which she defines as belief in Israel ’ s right to exist as a Jewish homeland , but opponents see as an oppressive political movement that has displaced and discriminated against Palestinians on the land they also claim as home .
Both inside USC and beyond , their conflict grew into a fierce debate between free speech and hate speech , anti-Semitism and anti-Zionism .
Jewish , Mideastern and Muslim organizations , along with scholars throughout California and the nation , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ flurry of dueling demands to acknowledge their stance .
Both women became targets of relentless , supercharged social media attacks they had unwittingly touched off .
Ritch was shocked by the online vitriol .
Tijani appealed for calm .
But it was too late .
Ritch eventually resigned and in a Facebook post said she was hit with anti-Zionist attacks .
Tijani said she felt endangered and scapegoated by the university in her stand for racial justice .
Their wrenching experiences reflect the personal toll caused by the complex and combustible conflicts over @ @ @ @ @ @ @ campuses throughout the country — and the difficulty that university administrators face in trying to manage them .
When USC President Carol L. Folt expressed empathy for Ritch and condemned anti-Semitism this summer , she ignited another furor over the line between religious bias , political criticism and free speech .
But USC leaders are seeking a way forward this fall .
Folt has asked the USC Shoah Foundation to expand its anti-hate program to the entire campus and has convened a new faculty group to propose how to better address anti-Semitism and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ declared that online hate and harassment are “ totally unacceptable ” and perpetrators would be held accountable .
“ These expressions of online hate and harassment have targeted Muslim , Jewish , Palestinian , Black and other students , ” wrote Winston B .
Crisp , vice president for student affairs , and Varun Soni , dean of religious and spiritual life , in a letter at the onset of the school year .
“ This has caused profound pain for students who have been blamed and scapegoated for situations beyond their control.
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ pain lingers .
In a desire to be understood and move forward , they agreed to tell their stories .
Ritch , captivated by dance as a child , studied ballet in New York and then joined a dance company in Arizona .
But she yearned for a larger world .
At USC , she found one .
She met aspiring screenwriters and business majors .
She observed Friday Shabbat with new Jewish friends .
Inspired by the work of student leaders — lobbying for a fall break , for instance — she @ @ @ @ @ @ @ his running mate .
Last February , the pair was elected to the top two student government offices on a platform to increase diversity , sustainability , administrative accountability and health and wellness services .
“ We wanted to make [ USC ] a more inclusive , welcoming , accessible place , ” Ritch said .
At the time , Tijani — a lover of cultures who speaks three languages — was studying abroad in Spain to perfect her Spanish and take classes about the European Union .
When the pandemic hit in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Tijani said she was “ just livin ’ my life ” — until May , when Floyd was killed .
“ I was sick to my stomach , ” she said .
She compiled a resource list for antibias education and spoke out about racism in videos , articles and campus Zoom panels .
In late June , Tijani noticed a new Instagram account , @ black_at_usc , where anonymous Black Trojans described racist treatment by faculty , police and fellow students — as Black students at other colleges and high schools @ @ @ @ @ @ @ particularly caught her eye : They said the student body president , whom they did not name , had made Black students uncomfortable with his jokes , remarks about the “ pains of being white ” and requests to turn out the Black student vote , which many Black Trojans perceived as a stereotype .
Tijani looked up campus articles about the election and felt that Fritz and Ritch had not chosen a fully diverse leadership team — further reason , she said , to question their commitment to racial justice .
( @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and supported summer events to stand with the Black community after Floyd ’ s death . )
She sent Fritz an email in late June , asking about the posts and how he and Ritch proposed to lead the student body at a time of such painful racial reckoning .
Fritz did not respond directly to her but posted an Instagram statement that day , saying he recognized he was a “ person of privilege , ” asked fellow students to help educate him about race and announced plans for greater outreach to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ respond .
She said she was working and off her social media when the exchanges occurred .
Unsatisfied by Fritz ’ s response , Tijani announced on Instagram that she would pursue their impeachment because they “ do not authentically represent nor promote the true breadth of diversity that our community has to offer.
” In listing the grounds for removal , Tijani asserted that Ritch had aligned herself with Fritz ’ s “ privileged gatekeeping ” and failed to provide a check on him .
She also said Ritch had not maintained @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , as campus bylaws required , because she had been “ outspoken on issues that alienate Palestinian Trojans ” without elaborating .
And that ’ s when things blew up .
Social media posts began calling for Fritz and Ritch to step down — referring to her as a “ Zionist.
” By the next day , Tijani was alerted by friends that Ritch was being slammed on social media .
She was appalled , she said , and immediately spoke out .
“ I want to make it very clear that I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ kind , ” she posted on Instagram .
“ I do not and WILL NOT stand for any ... attacks on her identity .
I also want to make it very clear that I am fully in support of Palestinian students on campus feeling safe and feeling able to voice their concerns .
Being Pro-Israel is not an impeachable offense , just as being pro-Palestine is not an impeachable offense because we must all be allowed to have our rights to freedom of speech protected.
” But her words failed to stop what @ @ @ @ @ @ @ was let out of the cage , ” said Dave Cohn , director of USC Hillel , a nonprofit that supports Jewish students .
“ It was like a dog whistle to a whole group of people.
” Ritch continued to be bombarded with hateful messages .
Dirty Zionist .
Anti-Palestinian .
Racist .
Trash .
One called her a “ Zionist ass VP ” who needed to resign , according to social media posts compiled by the Louis D. Brandeis Center for Human Rights Under Law .
Within 12 hours , Ritch @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ It was just flooding in , and on Twitter , and it was just going crazy , ” she said .
She was shaken and scared , worried about returning to campus .
The hostility was new to her .
USC has had a history of anti-Semitism , particularly in the 1930s and 1940s , by such prominent campus figures as former university President Rufus von KleinSmid and former coach Dean Cromwell , according to Steven J. Ross , a USC history professor .
Ross , Cohn and Ritch herself said USC @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Ritch said she never thought twice about wearing her Star of David necklace on campus or putting out recruiting tables for Trojans for Israel , despite the occasional student who would walk by and criticize the Jewish state ’ s treatment of Palestinians .
The summer furor was exacerbated by a parallel controversy involving a USC student senator , Isabel Washington .
She stepped down July 1 after outcry over anti-Palestinian statements she posted on social media , which the Undergraduate Student Government body criticized in a statement announcing her resignation .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ on edge for many Black , Palestinian and Jewish students .
Cohn said some Jewish students began reaching out to him for the first time about whether the campus was safe for them .
“ It ’ s highlighted how with great speed and ease a great deal of pain and discomfort can be created by how views are expressed in social media environments ... that undermine students ’ sense of security and support , ” he said .
Ritch reached the breaking point and went public with the anti-Zionist attacks against her @ @ @ @ @ @ @ people with whom I have shared a campus with for years , the people whom I desperately want to serve , have tried to make me feel ashamed , invalidated , and dehumanized because of who I am , ” Ritch wrote .
“ My Zionism should not and can not disqualify me from being a leader on campus , nor should others presume what that means about my position on social justice issues .
What happened to me is wrong and unjust , and now it is my turn to make sure @ @ @ @ @ @ @ did not mention Tijani , but her name was easy to find .
Suddenly , Tijani said , she was hit with “ disgustingly racist messages ” and accusations of anti-Semitism .
Her name , photo and social media accounts were plastered over the Internet .
She felt in danger , she said , and worried about her safety and future .
“ I felt hurt .
I felt scared , ” Tijani said .
“ That was just kind of the beginning of this false branding of me being the ringleader for @ @ @ @ @ @ @ two women have never directly spoken with each other .
But Jaya Hinton , co-director of the USC Black Student Assembly , said she spoke to both Tijani and Ritch and that neither ever intended to hurt the other .
She blamed the furor on the way social media propels misunderstandings “ to take on a life of their own.
” Hinton added that Black students were frustrated by the online attacks on a Black woman “ who does not have an ounce of hatred in her heart.
” In an interview with @ @ @ @ @ @ @ student body president , denied the allegations of microaggressions .
For her part , Ritch explained in an interview that her love for Israel does not preclude compassion for Palestinians , having visited the West Bank and personally heard “ heartbreaking ” stories in conversations with them about their difficult lives .
She said she supports a homeland for both and rejects a binary choice between the two .
But Fritz and Ritch never shared those views with Tijani , who had tried to set up meetings to hear them out before filing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ on what she saw as their lack of support for Black Trojans and made no references to Ritch ’ s Zionist beliefs or Jewish heritage .
Ritch and Fritz said they were uncomfortable that she wanted to record the meeting to post on social media — which Tijani saw as an accountability measure for elected student leaders and they perceived as a barrier to open and candid conversation .
Meanwhile , Folt was being pressed to take a stand .
In an open letter , prominent USC Jewish faculty decried Ritch ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and the Brandeis Center called on Folt to reject anti-Semitism .
Folt did so the day after Ritch announced her resignation , decrying the “ harassment she endured because of her Jewish and Zionist identities.
” “ As president of USC , I believe it is critically important to state explicitly and unequivocally that anti-Semitism in all of its forms is a profound betrayal of our principles and has no place at the university , ” Folt wrote in an Aug. 6 letter .
“ What happened to Rose Ritch is unacceptable , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ challenge to do better.
” But Folt ’ s letter set off another furor , deepening the layers of the conflict and zeroing in on yet another heated dimension : free speech on college campuses .
Controversy over whether criticizing Zionism and Israel ’ s treatment of Palestinians is acceptable free speech or anti-Semitic behavior has roiled many campuses , including UCLA , UC Berkeley and UC Irvine .
At USC , critics of Folt ’ s letter saw it as inaccurate and one-sided .
Emad Askar , a senior in public policy @ @ @ @ @ @ @ generations until leaving three decades ago amid volatile clashes with Israel , said the USC president had wrongly conflated anti-Zionism with anti-Semitism .
Jewish Voice for Peace-LA , the Council on American-Islamic Relations-LA , the Middle East Studies Assn .
of North America and California Scholars for Academic Freedom , which represents more than 200 faculty members at universities and colleges statewide , have all urged USC to affirm free speech , including the right to criticize Zionism .
They said no one took aim at Ritch ’ s Jewish faith ; only @ @ @ @ @ @ @ argue is a fair topic for political criticism — especially in what should be a university ’ s open academic climate .
Ritch , Cohn and other Jewish Zionists , however , say that many Jews see their support of a Jewish homeland in Israel as a fundamental part of their cultural and religious identity and feel that attacks on Zionism amount to anti-Semitism .
The Amcha Initiative , a nonprofit that combats anti-Semitism on college campuses , says that certain criticism of Israel can and has led to hostility and hate against @ @ @ @ @ @ @ impact of Folt ’ s letter was far more personal .
The letter did not mention Tijani by name , but the student had wanted Folt to publicly acknowledge her explicit rejection of anti-Semitism and that her impeachment effort was rooted in concerns over racial justice and the accountability of elected student leaders .
But neither the letter nor Ritch ’ s resignation statement included that important context .
“ She essentially was helping put a target on my back , ” Tijani said of Folt .
Folt did not respond to questions @ @ @ @ @ @ @ it was “ regretful ” that its intent to condemn bullying against not only Ritch but all students had not been effectively conveyed .
“ I do understand people feel that it was one-sided and it didn ’ t cover everything that people would want it to cover , ” he said , adding that the letter did meet its purpose of declaring that a student ’ s identity should not be a disqualification for campus leadership positions .
“ I want to be clear that there is no place for bullying and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ our students are facing , whether we ’ re talking about Rose or whether we are talking about Abeer or any other students , ” Crisp said .
As the academic year unfolds , USC is launching new initiatives to help the campus better handle racial , religious and political strife .
The USC Shoah Foundation , which harnesses the power of testimony from genocide survivors to develop empathy , understanding and respect , plans to sponsor “ critical conversations ” on these sensitive topics .
A discussion about anti-Semitism at USC is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ on Islamophobia , racism and an all-student panel on “ The Pain of Hate : Life at USC.
” “ We ’ re not going to do it anonymously on social media , ” said Stephen Smith , the foundation ’ s executive director .
“ We ’ re going to have those conversations in the open as grownups should do .
And we might disagree at the end of it , but we ’ re going to disagree respectfully.
” In addition , a new faculty group is working on ways to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Islamophobia and understand how they intersect with academic freedom , free speech , identity and inclusion .
As for Tijani and Ritch , both students remain unsettled .
But they say the ordeal has changed and strengthened them .
Ritch said she is now terrified of social media .
“ I think of Instagram and my stomach starts to hurt , ” she said .
But she is engrossed in her internship with a U.S. congressional candidate ’ s campaign and aims to find a job in politics or lobbying in Washington , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Her love of Judaism and her Jewish community has deepened .
And she is stronger , she said .
“ Being able to see I was able to get through this has given me a little more confidence in my strength as a human being , ” she said .
Tijani is still frustrated that her initial aim to address racism was overshadowed by a debate over anti-Zionism ; she feels both conversations can and should be held concurrently .
But she said she has learned to defend herself — she now aspires @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and hopes her experience will give other marginalized students the courage to speak out about their deeply held beliefs and prod USC to better protect them when they do .
“ I ’ ve moved on , ” Tijani said .
“ In the same graces that a lot of Black women have to find peace within themselves , because the world will not offer it to them , I ’ ve found peace and healing within myself .
”

Rose Ritch, left, a San Francisco native, came to USC to study dance but soon widened her academic interests to sociology, law, history and culture. Abeer Tijani, right, who grew up in a diverse Dallas suburb, received a full-ride merit scholarship to USC to study global health and social entrepreneurship.
They were born in different countries, with disparate cultures and faiths. But the two students shared a common dream to attend USC.
Rose Ritch, a San Francisco native, came to USC to study dance but soon widened her academic interests to sociology, law, history and culture. Socially, too, she thrived: winning election as student body vice president in February, nurturing her strong Jewish identity through the Hillel organization and Trojans for Israel.
Abeer Tijani left Nigeria as a toddler and grew up in a diverse Dallas suburb. With an interest in science, she ranked in the top tier of her class, played soccer and flute and served in student government. The achievements helped her land a full-ride merit scholarship to USC to study global health and social entrepreneurship.
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The two women, both seniors, have never met. But their worlds collided this summer when Tijani launched an effort to impeach the then-student body president, Truman Fritz, and Ritch amid the national fury over George Floyd’s killing and the Black Lives Matter movement.
Tijani says she questioned Ritch’s commitment to fight racism. Ritch feels she was targeted because she supports Zionism — which she defines as belief in Israel’s right to exist as a Jewish homeland, but opponents see as an oppressive political movement that has displaced and discriminated against Palestinians on the land they also claim as home.
Both inside USC and beyond, their conflict grew into a fierce debate between free speech and hate speech, anti-Semitism and anti-Zionism. Jewish, Mideastern and Muslim organizations, along with scholars throughout California and the nation, weighed in, confronting USC with a flurry of dueling demands to acknowledge their stance.
Abeer Tijani, a senior at USC, has never met Rose Ritch. Tijani launched an effort to impeach then-student body president, Truman Fritz, and Ritch amid the national fury over George Floyd’s killing and the Black Lives Matter movement. (Abeer Tijani)
Both women became targets of relentless, supercharged social media attacks they had unwittingly touched off. Ritch was shocked by the online vitriol. Tijani appealed for calm. But it was too late.
Ritch eventually resigned and in a Facebook post said she was hit with anti-Zionist attacks. Tijani said she felt endangered and scapegoated by the university in her stand for racial justice.
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Their wrenching experiences reflect the personal toll caused by the complex and combustible conflicts over race, religion and politics sweeping college campuses throughout the country — and the difficulty that university administrators face in trying to manage them. When USC President Carol L. Folt expressed empathy for Ritch and condemned anti-Semitism this summer, she ignited another furor over the line between religious bias, political criticism and free speech.
Column One A showcase for compelling storytelling from the Los Angeles Times. More stories
But USC leaders are seeking a way forward this fall. Folt has asked the USC Shoah Foundation to expand its anti-hate program to the entire campus and has convened a new faculty group to propose how to better address anti-Semitism and Islamophobia.
In addition, university leaders declared that online hate and harassment are “totally unacceptable” and perpetrators would be held accountable.
“These expressions of online hate and harassment have targeted Muslim, Jewish, Palestinian, Black and other students,” wrote Winston B. Crisp, vice president for student affairs, and Varun Soni, dean of religious and spiritual life, in a letter at the onset of the school year. “This has caused profound pain for students who have been blamed and scapegoated for situations beyond their control.”
For Ritch and Tijani, the pain lingers. In a desire to be understood and move forward, they agreed to tell their stories.
How a campus dispute exploded
Ritch, captivated by dance as a child, studied ballet in New York and then joined a dance company in Arizona. But she yearned for a larger world. At USC, she found one. She met aspiring screenwriters and business majors. She observed Friday Shabbat with new Jewish friends.
Inspired by the work of student leaders — lobbying for a fall break, for instance — she accepted Fritz’s invitation to be his running mate. Last February, the pair was elected to the top two student government offices on a platform to increase diversity, sustainability, administrative accountability and health and wellness services.
“We wanted to make [USC] a more inclusive, welcoming, accessible place,” Ritch said.
At the time, Tijani — a lover of cultures who speaks three languages — was studying abroad in Spain to perfect her Spanish and take classes about the European Union.
When the pandemic hit in March, USC brought all students back. Tijani said she was “just livin’ my life” — until May, when Floyd was killed.
“I was sick to my stomach,” she said. She compiled a resource list for antibias education and spoke out about racism in videos, articles and campus Zoom panels.
In late June, Tijani noticed a new Instagram account, @black_at_usc, where anonymous Black Trojans described racist treatment by faculty, police and fellow students — as Black students at other colleges and high schools have begun to do. Four posts particularly caught her eye: They said the student body president, whom they did not name, had made Black students uncomfortable with his jokes, remarks about the “pains of being white” and requests to turn out the Black student vote, which many Black Trojans perceived as a stereotype.
Tijani looked up campus articles about the election and felt that Fritz and Ritch had not chosen a fully diverse leadership team — further reason, she said, to question their commitment to racial justice.
Rose Ritch, left, wrote that her decision to resign as USC student body vice president followed anti-Zionist harassment on social media. Former student body President Truman Fritz also resigned after questions were raised about his commitment to racial justice. (Vincent Leo / Daily Trojan)
She sent Fritz an email in late June, asking about the posts and how he and Ritch proposed to lead the student body at a time of such painful racial reckoning. Fritz did not respond directly to her but posted an Instagram statement that day, saying he recognized he was a “person of privilege,” asked fellow students to help educate him about race and announced plans for greater outreach to diverse student groups.
Ritch did not respond. She said she was working and off her social media when the exchanges occurred. Unsatisfied by Fritz’s response, Tijani announced on Instagram that she would pursue their impeachment because they “do not authentically represent nor promote the true breadth of diversity that our community has to offer.”
In listing the grounds for removal, Tijani asserted that Ritch had aligned herself with Fritz’s “privileged gatekeeping” and failed to provide a check on him. She also said Ritch had not maintained a strong relationship with the student body, as campus bylaws required, because she had been “outspoken on issues that alienate Palestinian Trojans” without elaborating.
And that’s when things blew up.
Social media posts began calling for Fritz and Ritch to step down — referring to her as a “Zionist.”
By the next day, Tijani was alerted by friends that Ritch was being slammed on social media. She was appalled, she said, and immediately spoke out.
“I want to make it very clear that I do not condone anti-Semitic sentiments of any kind,” she posted on Instagram. “I do not and WILL NOT stand for any ... attacks on her identity. I also want to make it very clear that I am fully in support of Palestinian students on campus feeling safe and feeling able to voice their concerns. Being Pro-Israel is not an impeachable offense, just as being pro-Palestine is not an impeachable offense because we must all be allowed to have our rights to freedom of speech protected.”
But her words failed to stop what was to come.
“The tiger was let out of the cage,” said Dave Cohn, director of USC Hillel, a nonprofit that supports Jewish students. “It was like a dog whistle to a whole group of people.”
Ritch continued to be bombarded with hateful messages. Dirty Zionist. Anti-Palestinian. Racist. Trash. One called her a “Zionist ass VP” who needed to resign, according to social media posts compiled by the Louis D. Brandeis Center for Human Rights Under Law. Within 12 hours, Ritch said, she deleted her Instagram.
“It was just flooding in, and on Twitter, and it was just going crazy,” she said.
She was shaken and scared, worried about returning to campus. The hostility was new to her.
“It’s highlighted how with great speed and ease a great deal of pain and discomfort can be created by how views are expressed in social media environments ... that undermine students’ sense of security and support.” — Dave Cohn, director of USC Hillel
USC has had a history of anti-Semitism, particularly in the 1930s and 1940s, by such prominent campus figures as former university President Rufus von KleinSmid and former coach Dean Cromwell, according to Steven J. Ross, a USC history professor.
Ross, Cohn and Ritch herself said USC is now a comfortable campus for Jews. Ritch said she never thought twice about wearing her Star of David necklace on campus or putting out recruiting tables for Trojans for Israel, despite the occasional student who would walk by and criticize the Jewish state’s treatment of Palestinians.
The summer furor was exacerbated by a parallel controversy involving a USC student senator, Isabel Washington. She stepped down July 1 after outcry over anti-Palestinian statements she posted on social media, which the Undergraduate Student Government body criticized in a statement announcing her resignation.
The months of high-profile attacks set nerves on edge for many Black, Palestinian and Jewish students.
Cohn said some Jewish students began reaching out to him for the first time about whether the campus was safe for them.
“It’s highlighted how with great speed and ease a great deal of pain and discomfort can be created by how views are expressed in social media environments ... that undermine students’ sense of security and support,” he said.
Ritch reached the breaking point and went public with the anti-Zionist attacks against her in a Facebook post.
“The people with whom I have shared a campus with for years, the people whom I desperately want to serve, have tried to make me feel ashamed, invalidated, and dehumanized because of who I am,” Ritch wrote. “My Zionism should not and cannot disqualify me from being a leader on campus, nor should others presume what that means about my position on social justice issues. What happened to me is wrong and unjust, and now it is my turn to make sure this never happens again.”
The post did not mention Tijani, but her name was easy to find. Suddenly, Tijani said, she was hit with “disgustingly racist messages” and accusations of anti-Semitism. Her name, photo and social media accounts were plastered over the Internet. She felt in danger, she said, and worried about her safety and future.
“I felt hurt. I felt scared,” Tijani said. “That was just kind of the beginning of this false branding of me being the ringleader for some anti-Semitic campaign against Rose.”
The two women have never directly spoken with each other. But Jaya Hinton, co-director of the USC Black Student Assembly, said she spoke to both Tijani and Ritch and that neither ever intended to hurt the other. She blamed the furor on the way social media propels misunderstandings “to take on a life of their own.”
Hinton added that Black students were frustrated by the online attacks on a Black woman “who does not have an ounce of hatred in her heart.”
In an interview with The Times, Fritz, the former student body president, denied the allegations of microaggressions.
For her part, Ritch explained in an interview that her love for Israel does not preclude compassion for Palestinians, having visited the West Bank and personally heard “heartbreaking” stories in conversations with them about their difficult lives. She said she supports a homeland for both and rejects a binary choice between the two.
Fritz and Ritch publicly condemned racism and supported summer events to stand with the Black community after Floyd’s death.
But they never shared that information with Tijani, who had tried to set up meetings to hear them out before filing her formal impeachment documents. The petition was supported by several other student government cultural organizations and focused on what they saw as the leaders’ lack of support for Black Trojans, making no references to Ritch’s Zionist beliefs or Jewish heritage. Ritch and Fritz said they were uncomfortable that she wanted to record the meeting to post on social media — which Tijani saw as an accountability measure for elected student leaders and they perceived as a barrier to open and candid conversation.
The Folt letter
Meanwhile, Folt was being pressed to take a stand. In an open letter, prominent USC Jewish faculty decried Ritch’s treatment, while the Simon Wiesenthal Center and the Brandeis Center called on Folt to reject anti-Semitism. Folt did so the day after Ritch announced her resignation, decrying the “harassment she endured because of her Jewish and Zionist identities.”
“As president of USC, I believe it is critically important to state explicitly and unequivocally that anti-Semitism in all of its forms is a profound betrayal of our principles and has no place at the university,” Folt wrote in an Aug. 6 letter. “What happened to Rose Ritch is unacceptable, and we must all take up her challenge to do better.”
USC President Carol L. Folt condemned anti-Semitism in a letter to the campus community.
But Folt’s letter set off another furor, deepening the layers of the conflict and zeroing in on yet another heated dimension: free speech on college campuses. Controversy over whether criticizing Zionism and Israel’s treatment of Palestinians is acceptable free speech or anti-Semitic behavior has roiled many campuses, including UCLA, UC Berkeley and UC Irvine.
At USC, critics of Folt’s letter saw it as inaccurate and one-sided. Emad Askar, a senior in public policy whose family had lived in Palestine for generations until leaving three decades ago amid volatile clashes with Israel, said the USC president had wrongly conflated anti-Zionism with anti-Semitism.
Jewish Voice for Peace-LA, the Council on American-Islamic Relations-LA, the Middle East Studies Assn. of North America and California Scholars for Academic Freedom, which represents more than 200 faculty members at universities and colleges statewide, have all urged USC to affirm free speech, including the right to criticize Zionism.
They said no one took aim at Ritch’s Jewish faith; only her support of Zionism, which they argue is a fair topic for political criticism — especially in what should be a university’s open academic climate.
Ritch, Cohn and other Jewish Zionists, however, say that many Jews see their support of a Jewish homeland in Israel as a fundamental part of their cultural and religious identity and feel that attacks on Zionism amount to anti-Semitism. The Amcha Initiative, a nonprofit that combats anti-Semitism on college campuses, says that certain criticism of Israel can and has led to hostility and hate against Jewish students.
“We’re not going to do it anonymously on social media. We’re going to have those conversations in the open as grownups should do. And we might disagree at the end of it, but we’re going to disagree respectfully.” — Stephen Smith, executive director of the USC Shoah Foundation
For Tijani, the impact of Folt’s letter was far more personal. The letter did not mention Tijani by name, but the student had wanted Folt to publicly acknowledge her explicit rejection of anti-Semitism and that her impeachment effort was rooted in concerns over racial justice and the accountability of elected student leaders. But neither the letter nor Ritch’s resignation statement included that important context.
“She essentially was helping put a target on my back,” Tijani said of Folt.
Folt did not respond to questions about her letter, but Crisp said it was “regretful” that its intent to condemn bullying against not only Ritch but all students had not been effectively conveyed.
“I do understand people feel that it was one-sided and it didn’t cover everything that people would want it to cover,” he said, adding that the letter did meet its purpose of declaring that a student’s identity should not be a disqualification for campus leadership positions.
“I want to be clear that there is no place for bullying and harassment and the kind of hostility that our students are facing, whether we’re talking about Rose or whether we are talking about Abeer or any other students,” Crisp said.
Moving forward
A campaign sign for USC student government candidates Truman Fritz and Rose Ritch. (Ling Luo / USC Annenberg Media)
As the academic year unfolds, USC is launching new initiatives to help the campus better handle racial, religious and political strife. The USC Shoah Foundation, which harnesses the power of testimony from genocide survivors to develop empathy, understanding and respect, plans to sponsor “critical conversations” on these sensitive topics. A discussion about anti-Semitism at USC is set for Monday, followed by forums on Islamophobia, racism and an all-student panel on “The Pain of Hate: Life at USC.”
“We’re not going to do it anonymously on social media,” said Stephen Smith, the foundation’s executive director. “We’re going to have those conversations in the open as grownups should do. And we might disagree at the end of it, but we’re going to disagree respectfully.”
In addition, a new faculty group is working on ways to help the campus better address anti-Semitism and Islamophobia and understand how they intersect with academic freedom, free speech, identity and inclusion.
As for Tijani and Ritch, both students remain unsettled. But they say the ordeal has changed and strengthened them.
Ritch said she is now terrified of social media. “I think of Instagram and my stomach starts to hurt,” she said.
But she is engrossed in her internship with a U.S. congressional candidate’s campaign and aims to find a job in politics or lobbying in Washington, D.C., after graduating next spring. Her love of Judaism and her Jewish community has deepened. And she is stronger, she said.
“Being able to see I was able to get through this has given me a little more confidence in my strength as a human being,” she said.
Tijani is still frustrated that her initial aim to address racism was overshadowed by a debate over anti-Semitism; she feels both conversations can and should be held concurrently. But she said she has learned to defend herself — she now aspires to become a human rights lawyer — and hopes her experience will give other marginalized students the courage to speak out about their deeply held beliefs and prod USC to better protect them when they do.
“I’ve moved on,” Tijani said. “In the same graces that a lot of Black women have to find peace within themselves, because the world will not offer it to them, I’ve found peace and healing within myself.”


latimes--2020-10-18--Spy plane was sent to monitor George Floyd protest near home of California National Guard's head

In early June , four National Guard spy planes took to the skies over several cities to monitor street protests following the killing of George Floyd , triggering concerns that the military was improperly gathering intelligence on U.S. citizens .
Three of the reconnaissance planes kept watch on demonstrations in Minneapolis , Phoenix and Washington , D.C. , that drew hundreds or thousands of protesters and were marred by violence .
But the target of the fourth plane was far more surprising : the affluent Sacramento suburb of El Dorado Hills , the scene of much smaller and entirely peaceful @ @ @ @ @ @ @ not explained in detail how and why the normally sleepy neighborhood was chosen for the mission when other cities that had recently experienced property destruction and street clashes amid large protests — such as Los Angeles , Oakland and Long Beach — were not .
El Dorado Hills happened to be the home of the head of the California National Guard , Maj. Gen. David S. Baldwin , The Times has learned .
In addition to deploying the RC-26B reconnaissance plane , the Guard sent a Lakota helicopter to hover over El Dorado @ @ @ @ @ @ @ records .
The aircraft were requested by the El Dorado County Sheriff ’ s Office , state records show .
In response to questions from The Times , a spokesman for Gov .
Gavin Newsom , who oversees the California National Guard , issued a statement late Saturday criticizing the operation .
“ The use of the RC-26 to meet the sheriff ’ s request for aerial support to provide situational awareness for law enforcement is concerning and should not have happened , ” Nathan Click said .
“ It was an operational @ @ @ @ @ @ @ alone awareness — of the governor .
After the incident , operational policies and protocols were reaffirmed and strengthened to ensure RC-26 aircraft are not used for these incidents again.
” Click did not elaborate or say whether the governor ’ s office is examining Baldwin ’ s role in the matter .
In a telephone interview , Baldwin told The Times he didn ’ t recall whether he had approved the mission .
He said the fact that he lived in El Dorado Hills had “ nothing to do with ” the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ helicopter .
After questions from Congress members and others about the flights , an Air Force inspector general ’ s report issued in August concluded that the reconnaissance planes weren ’ t capable of capturing “ distinguishing personal features of individuals ” and did not violate rules barring the military from collecting intelligence on U.S. citizens .
The inspector general ’ s report did not include a detailed examination of whether the mission to El Dorado Hills was warranted given the uneventful nature of the protests .
The report states that the mission @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” request by the state Office of Emergency Services , made on behalf of the El Dorado sheriff ’ s office .
According to the report , the sheriff ’ s office said it needed the aircraft to provide support for deputies on the ground who were tracking demonstrations .
Baldwin , when asked why he couldn ’ t remember whether he recommended or approved the unusual use of a reconnaissance plane over his hometown , said “ there was a lot going on ” with protests up and down the state at @ @ @ @ @ @ @ soldiers deployed , ” he said .
“ We were doing hundreds of mission taskings.
” Under California ’ s open records law , The Times obtained the orders for the plane and helicopter , and they list Baldwin as the officer authorizing the deployments to El Dorado County .
However , a Guard spokesman , Lt. Col. Jonathan Shiroma , said Baldwin ’ s name routinely appears on such orders , but his subordinates have the authority to assign the plane and helicopters to missions .
Baldwin said he never discussed the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ if he spoke about it with El Dorado County Sheriff John D ’ Agostini or whether he recommended that the sheriff ’ s office request the plane .
Baldwin described his relationship with D ’ Agostini as “ collegial ” and similar to those he has with many sheriffs .
D ’ Agostini declined to be interviewed for this story .
His spokesman did not answer the question of whether Baldwin advised the sheriff ’ s office to request the aircraft .
Five current and former Guard officers with knowledge of the flights @ @ @ @ @ @ @ no justifiable reason for the El Dorado Hills mission .
“ El Dorado Hills was the most monitored place in California , ” said Dan Woodside , a recently retired Guard pilot who has flown the RC-26B .
“ Why was that ?
What was the threat ?
They are absolutely covering this up.
” A current Guard officer , who asked not to be named because he is not authorized to speak about the mission , said , “ We hear ‘ El Dorado , ’ and it ’ s , ‘ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in El Dorado ?
’ ” He noted that officials did not request the plane for other areas that witnessed much larger protests , including some hit by vandalism and theft .
“ Why aren ’ t we helping L.A. , San Francisco , Oakland ?
” the officer asked .
“ It ’ s just buffoonery.
” A second former officer said enlisting the military to surveil demonstrators is a perennial “ hot potato ” among Guard leaders , and it was “ idiotic ” to send the RC-26B to El Dorado @ @ @ @ @ @ @ bad optics , ” said the ex-officer , who requested anonymity to protect current Guard members who informed him about the mission .
The Guard sent ground troops to El Dorado Hills and other California communities at the request of local authorities .
The RC-26B , however , was used only over El Dorado Hills .
Witnesses told the inspector general ’ s office that the plane had not been used in the past to monitor civil disturbances , according to the report .
The aircraft ’ s primary purpose is gathering intelligence @ @ @ @ @ @ @ U.S. borders .
The plane is also summoned to chart the paths of wildfires and floods , and it is flown on search and rescue missions .
In June , the Army opened an investigation into complaints that National Guard helicopters , including the Lakota , flew dangerously low over crowds of protesters in Washington , D.C. , allegedly in an attempt to intimidate the demonstrators .
The Defense Department ’ s inspector general is now reviewing the findings of the inquiry , which have not been released , an Army spokesman said @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Lakota flying low over the El Dorado Hills protesters .
The inquiry by the Air Force inspector general ’ s office into the deployment of the RC-26B aircraft to protests around the country concluded that its use skirted some Defense Department procedures but did not breach U.S. policy that generally bars the military from spying on U.S. citizens .
The office ’ s report says the missions collected information on the size and movements of crowds and the destruction of property .
The aircraft , however , were not equipped with surveillance technology @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , the report says .
The document provides a narrative of the events , though key details — including names of officials who authorized the missions , as well as those who were involved — are redacted .
As the nationwide protests over Floyd ’ s death grew , Newsom declared a state of emergency on May 30 in Los Angeles County , on the basis that local law enforcement agencies could not deal with the threat posed by civil unrest .
The declaration said nothing about El Dorado County , roughly 400 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Asst .
Chief Ron Quigley of the Office of Emergency Services submitted the request to the Guard for aerial monitoring in El Dorado County .
The request cited “ information of groups forming in the west end of El Dorado County , ” the inspector general ’ s report said .
The inspector general ’ s office interviewed two people from the Guard ’ s 144th Fighter Wing at Fresno .
One of them , a pilot at the base , received a phone call from the Guard ’ s Joint Force Headquarters @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the mission .
The RC-26B took off from the Air National Guard Base in Fresno shortly after 8 p.m. on June 3 for what was a roughly three-hour mission , with a stop at Sacramento County ’ s Mather Airport to pick up two law enforcement officers , according to the report .
Before the mission , the officers had received word that there were “ rioters and looters planning to march to the suburbs of El Dorado County for violent purposes , ” the inspector general ’ s report says .
It @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s officer on the aircraft said the Hell ’ s Angels “ may incite some violence around El Dorado Hills.
” As the plane circled over the area , the crew spotted several police vehicles and foot patrols but no disturbances , according to the report .
The sheriff ’ s officers then determined that continuing the mission was unnecessary as “ there did not appear to be any crowd activity of interest , ” the report says .
It was unclear if any protesters were on the streets at that time .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ flight told The Times that the crew “ didn ’ t see anything .
… It was a waste of time.
” Quigley , the OES administrator cited in the inspector general ’ s report , did not respond to an interview request The Times made through the agency ’ s spokesman , Brian Ferguson .
In a statement , Ferguson said , “ At the request of local leaders , in June , Cal OES facilitated the deployment of National Guard equipment and personnel to locations across the state to safeguard public @ @ @ @ @ @ @ community and protestors alike .
“ Use of the National Guard for law enforcement support is used only in extreme cases , or after the local government mutual aid system is fully committed.
” The statement did not address whether the OES or the Guard considered the situation in El Dorado Hills to be an extreme case .
El Dorado County Supervisor John Hidahl , whose district includes most of El Dorado Hills , told The Times he heard several complaints that the sheriff ’ s and military response to a perceived threat @ @ @ @ @ @ @ he did not have enough first-hand information to evaluate whether the show of force was warranted .
“ The question is always : How significant is the threat ?
” Hidahl said .
“ I couldn ’ t say it was a high threat , but the sheriff definitely felt it was.
” He said he does not know Baldwin and wasn ’ t aware he lived in the area .
Caroline Cochrane , an activist from neighboring Folsom who attended multiple protests in surrounding areas to support the Black Lives Matter movement @ @ @ @ @ @ @ presence in El Dorado Hills an “ exploitation of resources ” and a “ response to fear-mongering.
” “ It creates a very hostile environment , especially for African American residents , ” said Cochrane , 17 .
Steven Taylor , who specializes in civil liberties as an associate professor of government at American University in Washington , said the El Dorado Hills mission was “ an expensive endeavor , and for what ?
“ I don ’ t understand why they couldn ’ t just use black-and-whites there , ” he said @ @ @ @ @ @ @ cars .
He added that the deployment of the aircraft “ was just nonsensical unless it was used to intimidate people .
”

Maj. Gen. David S. Baldwin, who heads the California National Guard, said he didn’t recall if he approved sending surveillance aircraft over the town where he lived, El Dorado Hills.
In early June, four National Guard spy planes took to the skies over several cities to monitor street protests following the killing of George Floyd, triggering concerns that the military was improperly gathering intelligence on U.S. citizens.
Three of the reconnaissance planes kept watch on demonstrations in Minneapolis, Phoenix and Washington, D.C., that drew hundreds or thousands of protesters and were marred by violence.
But the target of the fourth plane was far more surprising: the affluent Sacramento suburb of El Dorado Hills, the scene of much smaller and entirely peaceful protests.
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Local and state authorities have not explained in detail how and why the normally sleepy neighborhood was chosen for the mission when other cities that had recently experienced property destruction and street clashes amid large protests — such as Los Angeles, Oakland and Long Beach — were not.
El Dorado Hills happened to be the home of the head of the California National Guard, Maj. Gen. David S. Baldwin, The Times has learned. In addition to deploying the RC-26B reconnaissance plane, the Guard sent a Lakota helicopter to hover over El Dorado Hills, according to Guard officials and records. The aircraft were requested by the El Dorado County Sheriff’s Office, state records show.
In response to questions from The Times, a spokesman for Gov. Gavin Newsom, who oversees the California National Guard, issued a statement late Saturday criticizing the operation.
“The use of the RC-26 to meet the sheriff’s request for aerial support to provide situational awareness for law enforcement is concerning and should not have happened,” Nathan Click said. “It was an operational decision made without the approval — let alone awareness — of the governor. After the incident, operational policies and protocols were reaffirmed and strengthened to ensure RC-26 aircraft are not used for these incidents again.”
Click did not elaborate or say whether the governor’s office is examining Baldwin’s role in the matter.
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In a telephone interview, Baldwin told The Times he didn’t recall whether he had approved the mission. He said the fact that he lived in El Dorado Hills had “nothing to do with” the deployment of the RC-26B or the Lakota helicopter.
After questions from Congress members and others about the flights, an Air Force inspector general’s report issued in August concluded that the reconnaissance planes weren’t capable of capturing “distinguishing personal features of individuals” and did not violate rules barring the military from collecting intelligence on U.S. citizens. The inspector general’s report did not include a detailed examination of whether the mission to El Dorado Hills was warranted given the uneventful nature of the protests.
The report states that the mission grew out of a “high priority” request by the state Office of Emergency Services, made on behalf of the El Dorado sheriff’s office. According to the report, the sheriff’s office said it needed the aircraft to provide support for deputies on the ground who were tracking demonstrations.
Baldwin, when asked why he couldn’t remember whether he recommended or approved the unusual use of a reconnaissance plane over his hometown, said “there was a lot going on” with protests up and down the state at that time.
“We had 10,000 soldiers deployed,” he said. “We were doing hundreds of mission taskings.”
Under California’s open records law, The Times obtained the orders for the plane and helicopter, and they list Baldwin as the officer authorizing the deployments to El Dorado County. However, a Guard spokesman, Lt. Col. Jonathan Shiroma, said Baldwin’s name routinely appears on such orders, but his subordinates have the authority to assign the plane and helicopters to missions.
Baldwin said he never discussed the mission with Newsom and did not remember if he spoke about it with El Dorado County Sheriff John D’Agostini or whether he recommended that the sheriff’s office request the plane. Baldwin described his relationship with D’Agostini as “collegial” and similar to those he has with many sheriffs.
D’Agostini declined to be interviewed for this story. His spokesman did not answer the question of whether Baldwin advised the sheriff’s office to request the aircraft.
Five current and former Guard officers with knowledge of the flights said in interviews that they knew of no justifiable reason for the El Dorado Hills mission.
“El Dorado Hills was the most monitored place in California,” said Dan Woodside, a recently retired Guard pilot who has flown the RC-26B. “Why was that? What was the threat? They are absolutely covering this up.”
A current Guard officer, who asked not to be named because he is not authorized to speak about the mission, said, “We hear ‘El Dorado,’ and it’s, ‘What? What the hell is happening in El Dorado?’” He noted that officials did not request the plane for other areas that witnessed much larger protests, including some hit by vandalism and theft.
“Why aren’t we helping L.A., San Francisco, Oakland?” the officer asked. “It’s just buffoonery.”
California California kept prison factories open. Inmates worked for pennies an hour as COVID-19 spread Inmates who made masks and furniture for as little as 35 cents an hour say they felt pressure to stay on the job, even as the coronavirus spread through the prison factories.
A second former officer said enlisting the military to surveil demonstrators is a perennial “hot potato” among Guard leaders, and it was “idiotic” to send the RC-26B to El Dorado Hills. “It’s just bad optics,” said the ex-officer, who requested anonymity to protect current Guard members who informed him about the mission.
The Guard sent ground troops to El Dorado Hills and other California communities at the request of local authorities. The RC-26B, however, was used only over El Dorado Hills.
Witnesses told the inspector general’s office that the plane had not been used in the past to monitor civil disturbances, according to the report. The aircraft’s primary purpose is gathering intelligence on drug trafficking and helping to patrol U.S. borders. The plane is also summoned to chart the paths of wildfires and floods, and it is flown on search and rescue missions.
In June, the Army opened an investigation into complaints that National Guard helicopters, including the Lakota, flew dangerously low over crowds of protesters in Washington, D.C., allegedly in an attempt to intimidate the demonstrators. The Defense Department’s inspector general is now reviewing the findings of the inquiry, which have not been released, an Army spokesman said.
There were no reports of the Lakota flying low over the El Dorado Hills protesters.
The inquiry by the Air Force inspector general’s office into the deployment of the RC-26B aircraft to protests around the country concluded that its use skirted some Defense Department procedures but did not breach U.S. policy that generally bars the military from spying on U.S. citizens. The office’s report said the missions collected information on the size and movements of crowds and the destruction of property. The aircraft, however, were not equipped with surveillance technology that could identify individuals on the ground, the report says.
The document provides a narrative of the events, though key details — including names of officials who authorized the missions, as well as those who were involved — are redacted.
As the nationwide protests over Floyd’s death grew, Newsom declared a state of emergency on May 30 in Los Angeles County, on the basis that local law enforcement agencies could not deal with the threat posed by civil unrest. The declaration said nothing about El Dorado County, roughly 400 miles away.
Two days later, Asst. Chief Ron Quigley of the Office of Emergency Services submitted the request to the Guard for aerial monitoring in El Dorado County. The request cited “information of groups forming in the west end of El Dorado County,” the inspector general’s report said.
The inspector general’s office interviewed two people from the Guard’s 144th Fighter Wing at Fresno. One of them, a pilot at the base, received a phone call from the Guard’s Joint Force Headquarters in Sacramento with verbal orders to support the mission.
The RC-26B took off from the Air National Guard Base in Fresno shortly after 8 p.m. on June 3 for what was a roughly three-hour mission, with a stop at Sacramento County’s Mather Airport to pick up two law enforcement officers, according to the report.
Before the mission, the officers had received word that there were “rioters and looters planning to march to the suburbs of El Dorado County for violent purposes,” the inspector general’s report says.
It states that an El Dorado sheriff’s officer on the aircraft said the Hells Angels “may incite some violence around El Dorado Hills.” As the plane circled over the area, the crew spotted several police vehicles and foot patrols but no disturbances, according to the report.
The sheriff’s officers then determined that continuing the mission was unnecessary as “there did not appear to be any crowd activity of interest,” the report says. It was unclear if any protesters were on the streets at that time.
A Guard officer with knowledge of the flight told The Times that the crew “didn’t see anything. … It was a waste of time.”
Quigley, the OES administrator cited in the inspector general’s report, did not respond to an interview request The Times made through the agency’s spokesman, Brian Ferguson. In a statement, Ferguson said, “At the request of local leaders, in June, Cal OES facilitated the deployment of National Guard equipment and personnel to locations across the state to safeguard public safety and protect the well-being of the community and protestors alike.
“Use of the National Guard for law enforcement support is used only in extreme cases, or after the local government mutual aid system is fully committed.” The statement did not address whether the OES or the Guard considered the situation in El Dorado Hills to be an extreme case.
El Dorado County Supervisor John Hidahl, whose district includes most of El Dorado Hills, told The Times he heard several complaints that the sheriff’s and military response to a perceived threat of unrest was overkill. Hidahl said he did not have enough firsthand information to evaluate whether the show of force was warranted.
“The question is always: How significant is the threat?” Hidahl said. “I couldn’t say it was a high threat, but the sheriff definitely felt it was.”
He said he did not know Baldwin and wasn’t aware he lived in the area.
Caroline Cochrane, an activist from neighboring Folsom who attended multiple protests in surrounding areas to support the Black Lives Matter movement, called the National Guard’s presence in El Dorado Hills an “exploitation of resources” and a “response to fear-mongering.”
“It creates a very hostile environment, especially for African American residents,” said Cochrane, 17.
Steven Taylor, who specializes in civil liberties as an associate professor of government at American University in Washington, said the El Dorado Hills mission was “an expensive endeavor, and for what?”
“I don’t understand why they couldn’t just use black-and-whites there,” he said, referring to sheriff’s patrol cars. He added that the deployment of the aircraft “was just nonsensical unless it was used to intimidate people.”