Concern over Trump's supporters intensifies following the riots
At the Heart of the Controversy: Undocumented Immigrants in Paramount
Paramount, located in the Greater Los Angeles area, is a far cry from the glamour of Hollywood. The city is a melting pot of struggles, minimal income, and often undocumented residents. The region has been on edge since a series of protests against ICE raids, a scenario that gained international attention.
Last Saturday, fear gripped the predominantly Latin American community. Rumors of a large-scale raid by the Trump administration led to violent protests in the heart of Los Angeles, with Paramount being no exception. These protests became part of the western coast metropolis' ongoing unrest.
The Industrial Area's Uneasy Calm
Let's rewind to Saturday. Many residents in Paramount were enjoying a day off, engaged in DIY projects. A local hardware store situated near the Los Angeles River, now a highway-wide asphalted basin, was bustling with activity. Near the exit, day laborers stood on a grassy strip, ready to work for cash.
However, something was amiss this day. Cars from the US Border Patrol were present in the industrial area opposite the hardware store, an unusual sight for Paramount and its troubled neighbor, Compton.
Internet rumors suggested a raid at the hardware store, stirring memories of undercover operations across the US. The area quickly filled with angry protesters, leading to riots: a car was set on fire, Molotov cocktails were thrown, and the vehicles of alleged ICE agents were pelted with stones. The police responded with tear gas and rubber bullets.
The Department of Homeland Security later denied any raid had taken place. Nevertheless, the violence fueled Trump's decision to send 4,000 National Guard troops to Los Angeles—and to Paramount. For many, it was a provocation and an attempt at intimidation.
A Tense Community
Today, a few days after the unrest, the hardware store's parking lot appears normal and uneventful. However, the atmosphere remains tense. A young man, wearing a light blue cap of the local baseball team and a Nirvana band T-shirt, introduces himself as Joe.
"People aren't leaving their houses. They aren't going to work because it's still a tense area. I'm sure there are informants everywhere," he says, standing by an old pickup truck faded by the sun. Despite his fear, he seems to be one of the few willing to speak openly about the events.
The Silent Pillars of America
During the past few days, people have looked suspicious and eyed the visitor with caution. Joe lives in Compton, has Latin American roots, and struggles to recognize his neighborhood anymore. He says he doesn't support the weekend's violence but that people react emotionally when they sense injustice. The authorities are using heavy-handed tactics, he explains, that are difficult to temper through the courts. "The Constitution is real," he says. "And if it was written a long time ago, its principles should still apply."
Living in the US without valid residency status, many have been doing so for years, often decades. They come from Mexico and Central America but also from Asia, Africa, and the Caribbean, arriving as migrant workers, refugees, or with visas that later expired. Today, about 10 to 11 million people live without papers in the US—nearly a million alone in Los Angeles.
The largest communities can be found in California, Texas, Florida, New York, and Illinois. They work primarily in sectors like agriculture, construction, care, and hospitality, often under precarious conditions. Although they usually pay taxes, they are excluded from many public services. Politically, they are a pawn between isolation and reform promises, but socially, they have long been an integral part of American life.
The National Guard's Role
President Trump's administration has pledged to arrest 3,000 immigrants daily, targeting those unlawfully in the country. Millions, Trump promised during his campaign, would be removed from the country, regardless of whether they have children born in the US with American citizenship. He portrays them as drivers of crime, a claim widely debunked but successful during his campaign.
Joe understands the frustration in Paramount and other parts of the United States. "We're supposed to be a free country with all these rights," he says, "but in reality, you never know. People feel so helpless." He points out that this is an example of how people are treated worldwide.
Just further across the street, the gate to the industrial park stands open. Soldiers with guns are stationed in the courtyard, having been there since Sunday morning on the president’s orders. Media reports suggest it's for a local command center for future raids. The reporter can take photos, a friendly uniformed soldier says, but no questions—he has to protect something. And what, the soldier smiles and stays silent.
The recent tensions in Paramount, a city grappling with issues of immigration and law enforcement, have found their way into the broader arena of politics and general-news, garnering attention both locally and internationally. The community's uneasy silence following the alleged ICE raid and subsequent riots speaks volumes about the growing concerns surrounding crime-and-justice, not just in Paramount, but across cities with large undocumented immigrant populations.
In the wake of these events, the presence of National Guard troops in the industrial area, reportedly for future raids, serves as a stark reminder of the ongoing battle between immigration reform and enforcement, and the perceived rights of the undocumented residents at the heart of their struggles. The atmosphere remains tense, marred by questions of justice, fear, and intimidation, questioning the principles outlined in the Constitution and the treatment of these silent pillars of America, both now and historically.
