ICE must target criminals, not tear apart working families

On June 14, while the nation celebrated the U.S. Army’s 250th anniversary and marked President Donald Trump’s 79th birthday, millions of Americans took to the streets in protest.

Under the banner “No Kings,” demonstrators in all 50 states marched in over 2,000 cities to denounce Trump’s presidency, particularly his sweeping immigration enforcement policies. Nowhere was the outrage more palpable than in Los Angeles, a city shaped by immigrant labor and multicultural resilience.

The latest surge in protests began following aggressive Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) raids across Los Angeles on June 6. These raids—carried out with no public warning—targeted areas like the downtown garment district, where undocumented immigrants, including more than a dozen employees at the Korean-owned apparel company Ambiance, were suddenly arrested. What started as a small-scale protest against the raids quickly escalated, resulting in violent clashes, curfews, and the deployment of over 4,700 federal troops, including Marines.

The Trump administration’s approach to undocumented immigration has consistently blurred the line between violent criminals and law-abiding residents. In its rush to display “results,” federal agents have prioritized visible, low-hanging targets over the real sources of danger—organized crime, gangs, and trafficking networks. The result: a policy that punishes families, workers, and entire communities, while doing little to protect public safety.

In California, where undocumented immigrants make up a vital share of the labor force, this strategy has sown chaos and distrust. Latino residents, who comprise over 40% of the state’s population, have rightly condemned the raids as unjust and reckless. But their outrage is not theirs alone. Across the country, immigrant communities, civil rights organizations, and ordinary Americans have joined together, unified in their call for a smarter, more humane immigration system.

Local leaders have also pushed back. Governor Gavin Newsom and mayors from more than 30 Southern California cities issued a joint statement demanding that ICE leave the state, arguing that immigration enforcement should respect state autonomy and community needs. But instead of responding with dialogue, the Trump administration escalated with force, labeling protestors “rebellious mobs” and calling in the military.

For Korean Americans in Los Angeles, this moment triggers painful memories. During the 1992 LA Riots, Korean immigrant shopkeepers found themselves abandoned as the city burned. With police overwhelmed — or unwilling to protect Korean neighborhoods, many were left to defend their lives and livelihoods alone. That moment gave rise to the image of the “Rooftop Koreans”—armed civilians standing guard over their stores, a symbol of survival born out of government neglect.

But history should be remembered responsibly, not exploited for political gain. That’s why the Korean American community is deeply disturbed by a recent social media post by Donald Trump Jr., who posted a 1992 photo of armed Koreans with the caption, “Rooftop Koreans Great Again.” This isn’t homage—it’s dangerous provocation. His message implies that we should prepare to confront protestors with violence, evoking a divisive racial narrative and inviting conflicts. It exploits the trauma of one community to stoke division against another.

Let us be clear: Korean Americans refuse to be used as political props. We will not be manipulated into fueling racial tension. We know the cost of being scapegoated. In 1992, we were victims of an indifferent system. We will not be victims again, nor pawns in someone else’s political game.

On the night of June 11, protestors moved toward Koreatown. Rather than protecting the neighborhood, LAPD placed barricades not at the original flashpoints near Westlake, but miles away—in the heart of Koreatown itself.

The decision, made without public explanation or community input, immediately sparked concern. Was history repeating itself? Were police once again diverting unrest toward vulnerable immigrant neighborhoods while shielding more affluent ones?

Witnesses reported that dozens of LAPD patrol vehicles followed protestors into Koreatown, raising suspicions that law enforcement was steering unrest directly toward a vulnerable ethnic enclave. LAPD’s vague explanation that their response was “fluid” did little to reassure the Korean-American community, still scarred by the 1992 Riots.

Korean American leaders acted swiftly. Charles Lee, incoming chair of the LAPD Olympic Station Support Committee, and other community leaders contacted city officials demanding transparency and protective measures. “We remember what happens when we’re left out of the conversation,” one community member said. “We won’t let that happen again.”

Koreatown residents do not oppose the right to protest. But they know, perhaps more than most, what happens when the government treats their safety as an afterthought.

We urge a critical reevaluation of immigration enforcement. Instead of mass raids that target workplaces and households, enforcement must concentrate on dismantling violent criminal networks. Gang leaders, traffickers, and repeat offenders—not working parents or student visa overstays—should be the top priority. Any policy that fails to make this distinction is not just ineffective; it’s unjust.

Immigration policy must also be crafted with an understanding of local realities. In cities like Los Angeles, immigrants are not fringe figures—they are the backbone of the economy, comprising significant portions of the workforce in construction, manufacturing, hospitality, and service sectors. Raiding their workplaces doesn’t just destroy families; it destabilizes local economies.

Moreover, federal immigration policy should be responsive to state and local leaders, not imposed through military force. The use of federal troops to quell civilian protests represents an alarming breach of democratic norms. Governor Newsom’s legal challenge to the troop deployment is not just a defense of state rights; it’s a defense of constitutional checks and balances.

At this critical juncture, we call for unity, not scapegoating. Korean Americans, Latino Americans, and immigrant communities across the country share a common struggle: the right to live in safety, dignity, and peace. That right isn’t a privilege granted by the federal government—it’s a foundational promise enshrined in the American ideal.

We call on President Trump and his administration to abandon fear-driven politics and adopt an enforcement strategy based on public safety, human rights, and local input. We also call on those who seek to distort our history, like the dangerous invocation of “Rooftop Koreans,” to stop using our trauma for political theater.

We will not be divided. We will not be silenced. And we will not be used.

By Mooyoung Lee  [lee.mooyoung@koreadaily.com]