LAPD Rebels Against Newsom’s 'No Secret Police' Law, Backs Federal Agents

Paul Riverbank, 2/3/2026LAPD defies California's 'No Secret Police' law, fueling city-state-federal immigration enforcement tensions.

LAPD Chief Jim McDonnell, clearly uncomfortable getting in the middle of a jurisdictional standoff, made his stance more practical than political. Speaking last Friday in a hallway outside City Hall ("not my ideal setting for press briefings," he quipped), McDonnell asserted, “We aren’t interested in drawing guns over a face covering. ICE agents have their protocols. I’m not going to risk turning a minor infraction into an armed confrontation.” He paused, glancing at the small cluster of reporters. “It might look simple on paper, but these situations evolve in ways no policy can predict.”

The state’s “No Secret Police Act”—hard to miss when it passed last September, signed by Gov. Newsom with the usual flurry of cameras and soundbites—seemed designed squarely at curbing what activists call clandestine immigration raids. At rallies from East L.A. to Santa Ana, supporters waved placards showing balaclava-clad figures with stark, all-caps slogans: “No More Secret Police.” In Sacramento, lawmakers pushing the bill insisted that visible badges and uncovered faces build trust and accountability. “Opaque enforcement erodes the very trust we’re trying to heal,” one assemblymember told me over coffee, more exasperated than triumphant.

For its part, Washington is having none of it. The Justice Department, with equal measures legalese and indignation, fired back: the state law, they argue, tramples the Constitution’s Supremacy Clause—meaning federal agents answer to federal rules, not California statutes. Top Republican voices—never shy in these disputes—described the law as an invitation for chaos. Some even suggested, starkly, that unmasking agents “puts lives at risk.”

But the legal contest isn’t confined to uniforms and masks. On another front, a group of Democratic representatives—Jamie Raskin and Veronica Escobar among them—won a temporary courtroom victory this week. The Department of Homeland Security had been insisting that members of Congress give a week’s notice before visiting ICE detention centers. (If you think that sounds like enough time to scrub the floors and press the uniforms, you’re not alone.) A federal judge sided with lawmakers, calling the rule likely unlawful. The ruling injects yet another twist into the oversight debate, highlighting the careful chess game between congressional authority and executive enforcement.

Context always matters. A video from 2013 resurfaced this week—one of those political clips that make everyone squirm. President Obama, his manner as careful as ever, addressed the constraints of his office: “I’m the president, not the emperor. My job is to enforce the laws we have—even if some outcomes are tragic.” The words landed with a thud in today’s heated climate, sparking a fresh wave of finger-pointing. People online, and off, noted the irony: both parties, it seems, shape their talking points to suit the moment.

Nearly a decade later, the dividing lines have blurred, sharpened, and blurred again. Political winds shift. What hasn’t changed is a steady struggle—visible in courtrooms, city streets, and endless legislative hearings—over who holds the power to dictate immigration’s day-to-day realities.

As legal battles unfold, the front-line officers, lawmakers, and local leaders keep recalibrating. No one, so far, has discovered a tidy answer. In the meantime, the search continues—sometimes out in the open, sometimes, as this week proves, behind a mask.

There’s a peculiar tension gripping Los Angeles—and not just in the usual political sense. The controversy begins with a single question: Should federal immigration agents be allowed to mask their faces while conducting operations? The state says no, but the city’s top cop isn’t interested in enforcing that directive.LAPD Chief Jim McDonnell, clearly uncomfortable getting in the middle of a jurisdictional standoff, made his stance more practical than political. Speaking last Friday in a hallway outside City Hall ("not my ideal setting for press briefings," he quipped), McDonnell asserted, “We aren’t interested in drawing guns over a face covering. ICE agents have their protocols. I’m not going to risk turning a minor infraction into an armed confrontation.” He paused, glancing at the small cluster of reporters. “It might look simple on paper, but these situations evolve in ways no policy can predict.”The state’s “No Secret Police Act”—hard to miss when it passed last September, signed by Gov. Newsom with the usual flurry of cameras and soundbites—seemed designed squarely at curbing what activists call clandestine immigration raids. At rallies from East L.A. to Santa Ana, supporters waved placards showing balaclava-clad figures with stark, all-caps slogans: “No More Secret Police.” In Sacramento, lawmakers pushing the bill insisted that visible badges and uncovered faces build trust and accountability. “Opaque enforcement erodes the very trust we’re trying to heal,” one assemblymember told me over coffee, more exasperated than triumphant.For its part, Washington is having none of it. The Justice Department, with equal measures legalese and indignation, fired back: the state law, they argue, tramples the Constitution’s Supremacy Clause—meaning federal agents answer to federal rules, not California statutes. Top Republican voices—never shy in these disputes—described the law as an invitation for chaos. Some even suggested, starkly, that unmasking agents “puts lives at risk.”But the legal contest isn’t confined to uniforms and masks. On another front, a group of Democratic representatives—Jamie Raskin and Veronica Escobar among them—won a temporary courtroom victory this week. The Department of Homeland Security had been insisting that members of Congress give a week’s notice before visiting ICE detention centers. (If you think that sounds like enough time to scrub the floors and press the uniforms, you’re not alone.) A federal judge sided with lawmakers, calling the rule likely unlawful. The ruling injects yet another twist into the oversight debate, highlighting the careful chess game between congressional authority and executive enforcement.Context always matters. A video from 2013 resurfaced this week—one of those political clips that make everyone squirm. President Obama, his manner as careful as ever, addressed the constraints of his office: “I’m the president, not the emperor. My job is to enforce the laws we have—even if some outcomes are tragic.” The words landed with a thud in today’s heated climate, sparking a fresh wave of finger-pointing. People online, and off, noted the irony: both parties, it seems, shape their talking points to suit the moment.Nearly a decade later, the dividing lines have blurred, sharpened, and blurred again. Political winds shift. What hasn’t changed is a steady struggle—visible in courtrooms, city streets, and endless legislative hearings—over who holds the power to dictate immigration’s day-to-day realities.As legal battles unfold, the front-line officers, lawmakers, and local leaders keep recalibrating. No one, so far, has discovered a tidy answer. In the meantime, the search continues—sometimes out in the open, sometimes, as this week proves, behind a mask.