As I watch what's unfolding in Los Angeles and across our nation, I'm reminded of something Gandhi understood deeply: the path we choose in moments of crisis shapes not just our immediate response, but the kind of society we become. Today, we face a manufactured crisis designed to divide us, dehumanize our neighbors, and tear at the constitutional fabric that binds us together.
The story told to the American people in this last election was a fiction—that we needed mass deportations to protect us from a wave of criminality committed by immigrants in our communities. This deliberately pushed a false narrative identifying immigrants with crime, positioned deportation as a public safety measure, and normalized the immoral stance that “criminals” are disposable.
According to this deeply cruel lie, all undocumented immigrants must be rounded up and deported—possibly not to their countries of origin, but simply anywhere outside of the United States.
Trump's narrative is a deliberate fabrication designed to manufacture fear, expand federal power, override local authority, and ignore communities where immigrants are woven into daily life as friends, family, and neighbors.
These are people who have built lives here—colleagues, caregivers, small-business owners—many of whom have contributed to their communities for years, even decades. Now they’re being targeted indiscriminately.
But communities see the truth. As more families from all across the country watch loved ones taken away, the human cost becomes painfully clear, with the cruel separation of families and removal of people who sustain our towns and cities.
The administration also claims that those who are resisting the attacks on immigrant communities are straining local law enforcement—another baseless assertion. That lie was exposed when Trump sent in the National Guard, even though the LA police chief publicly stated that protests were mostly peaceful and that no federal support to local law enforcement was needed. The unrest in LA was no worse than what we see in many cities after major sporting events—hardly cause for militarized intervention.
The framers of our Constitution were deeply concerned with using military troops against civilians. Soldiers are trained for war against a foreign enemy, not domestic policing. But the White House believes that anyone who opposes Trump—a university, a law firm, a court, a student, a journalist, a protestor—is an enemy and should be attacked and destroyed. We have a name for such a system: Autocracy.
This military deployment is meant to demonstrate power through cruelty, to bully us into submission through spectacle. It also may be unconstitutional and it is certainly immoral, which is why Thursday evening the U.S. court for the Northern District of California found that Trump’s actions were illegal and returned control of the state’s National Guard to the Governor of California. That decision is now being appealed. We know there may be some disagreements, but in a democracy that calls for a dialogue, not the marines.
What we do matters
While the courts do their part, we must do ours: call out, resist, and refuse to be complicit, and yes, to care. As our federal government turns on immigrant communities, people peacefully protesting, and the Constitution, we must remember they are us and we are them.
I have spoken with many people who say they would have stood up to injustice in Nazi Germany. It’s 2025 in the U.S.—what will we do now?
The Rev. Dr. King offers lessons. He was arrested for challenging not just unlawful acts, but immoral laws. Through nonviolent civil disobedience, like students sitting at whites-only counters, he called on us to reject injustice and hate.
Nonviolence isn't passive—it’s active, disciplined resistance. Civil rights activists trained for it because it takes strength. We may need to do the same and rebuild that muscle of principled resistance. We must show up however we can. Write letters. Call your school board. Support community organizations. Paint murals. Seek advice. The key is that we engage, that we all link arms together, and refuse to let fear drive us apart.
My friend Arthur Brooks wrote a book, Love Your Enemies. I asked Arthur who are our enemies? We must resist the urge to “other” any group of people, including those in the National Guard or police. While being used for political ends that have nothing to do with their service, leading to some causing great harm, they too have families who are scared for their safety. Let’s meet each other on shared, sacred ground and call them to protect our community, rather than engage on the battleground where there is only violence and mutual dehumanization.
As David French recently wrote in the New York Times, our Constitution accords everyone—not just citizens— the right to be heard by an impartial judge before they are jailed or deported. Due process, at the heart of our Constitution, applies to all people. It reflects the universal concept we hold at OBI that all people belong and deserve the dignity to be heard.
This does not mean that we don’t sometimes fall short or get angry and frustrated. But in times of heightened fear, it's even more vital to remember that everyone belongs. We can't turn away from our struggle to bring about a true multi-racial democracy for all. Not just because it's a good idea, but because it is what makes us human.
The most radical act now is to build broad, multiracial political alliances that cross ideological and cultural differences and support pluralism. We do not have to agree on everything to reject othering and cruelty.
We're being tested politically, morally and spiritually. The question before us is whether we'll allow ourselves to be divided by manufactured fear, or whether we'll remember that our strength lies in our commitment to each other, to justice, and to the belief that everybody belongs, unconditionally.
In solidarity and love,
john a. powell
This statement was updated from its original version that was emailed to OBI’s community on June 13, 2025.
