California knows how Donald Trump’s cruel immigration politics play out | Opinion

Recently, President Donald Trump toured a new migrant detention facility deep in the Florida Everglades — a remote, fortress-like compound dubbed “Alligator Alcatraz.” The facility, surrounded by crocodiles, alligators and pythons, wasn’t built for due process; it was built for political theater. With hats, T-shirts and beer koozies now for sale on the Florida GOP websites, human suffering has been repackaged as political merchandise.

It’s the latest act in an all-too-human story: the use of fear, dehumanization and spectacle is used as campaign tools. For Californians, this tactic isn’t just recognizable — it’s repressed trauma.

In 1994, California Republicans made a similar bet. That year, black-and-white campaign ads depicted shadowy figures scurrying across the U.S.-Mexico border, warning of an “invasion.” It resurrected the moribund re-election campaign of then-Gov. Pete Wilson.

A state legislator introduced a bill requiring all state employees to report “suspected” undocumented residents, and Proposition 187, which sought to deny undocumented immigrants access to public services, passed with overwhelming support.

Republicans rode a wave of anti-immigrant anger — and, for a moment, it worked.

But then came the backlash. Latino Californians, vilified and targeted, responded not by withdrawing, but by organizing. Their growing political power reshaped the electorate. Yet, while the belief that Latino mobilization alone turned California blue has become sacrosanct in state politics, the truth is that this has become an urban legend. And it only tells a small part of the story.

The deeper and much bigger voter shift came from white suburban voters, who recoiled not at immigration itself, but at the tone of gleeful cruelty emanating from the Republican Party. The spectacle of state-mandated suspicion and fear-mongering on cultural change simply went too far.

Today, in America, history is echoing California — and Trump is reviving the same time-worn script.

During the tour of “Alligator Alcatraz,” Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem shared an unverified story of an immigrant she called a “cannibal” who was “eating himself” on a deportation flight.

“These are the deranged individuals on our streets,” she said. It was bizarre and grotesque. But its purpose was unmistakable: to strip immigrants of their humanity and render any treatment — even the most inhumane — justifiable.

Voltaire once said: “Those who can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities.” In our country, that’s become less of a warning and more of an explanation. California Republicans, keenly aware of our state’s history, know the overindulgence in human cruelty is politically fraught because they have seen how this movie ends.

Recently, six GOP legislators in Sacramento sent a letter to Trump asking him to direct U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement to focus on violent offenders rather than broad, indiscriminate raids. This was a simple request.

These legislators know that powerful near-daily viral videos showing communities, churches and families coming apart due to ICE raids coupled with rhetorical overreach has cost the president all of the gains he made with Latinos since the last election. In a state shaped by the decades-long fallout of Prop. 187, these Republicans understand that when cruelty becomes the whole point, it also becomes a massive liability.

We’ve seen their concerns about backlash proven correct before, most recently in 2018. In the lead-up to the midterms of his first presidency, Fox News warned daily of “caravans” of migrants marching toward the border. Trump ordered workplace raids in California and expanded ICE operations in Los Angeles neighborhoods. But instead of boosting Republican fortunes, it backfired spectacularly.

Latino turnout surged. Suburban voters remembered. And for the first time in decades, Republicans were swept out of every congressional seat in Orange County — once the party’s crown jewel in California. Nancy Pelosi reclaimed the speaker’s gavel, and the GOP paid the price for its theatrics.

Now, Trump is asking other states to build their own “Alligator Alcatraz.” He’s turned policy into performance and cruelty into commerce. But backlash appears to be brewing again. His approval ratings are near historic lows. Even on immigration, an issue where he once had a commanding edge, public opinion has turned upside down on him.

What once looked like strength now feels like sadism. Just this week, a Gallup poll on immigration showed that American attitudes have grown more positive about immigration in the last year.

California has lived through the dark politics of dehumanization, and we know where that path leads. As the rest of the country confronts the demographic changes California experienced decades ago, our state is reliving the trauma we thought we had moved beyond.

What comes next depends on whether Republicans continue to overplay their hand, as history suggests they are very likely to do. As a close observer of this issue for decades now, I have never seen a case where winning the policy debate over illegal immigration was enough for Republicans. It invariably devolves into cruel overreach and becomes a moral consideration in the minds of voters.

That hasn’t ended well for Republicans. And it’s precisely at that crossroads where we stand now.

This story was originally published July 13, 2025 at 5:00 AM with the headline "California knows how Donald Trump’s cruel immigration politics play out | Opinion."