LAPD Needs to Engage Larger Community in Convention Plans

Next month’s Democratic National Convention in Los Angeles should be an occasion of proud celebration for the city, but instead it’s turning into one of fear and trepidation.

Some of the anxiety stems from circumstances beyond anyone’s control, such as the emergence in Seattle last year of a new generation of protester more prone to violence. Some of it is home-grown, like the Los Angeles Police Department’s rocky relationship with various communities in the city. Parts of the media, furthermore, are raising the temperature of fear by fostering expectations of violent confrontations between cops and protesters, to such a degree that many businesses in the vicinity of Staples Center, where the convention will be held, are temporarily closing or downscaling operations.

Maybe the fear is justified, though the main protest groups have pledged to avoid violence. It does seem exaggerated. Unions, which provided most of the shock troops in Seattle and later in Washington, have pulled out of the protests, largely because the Democratic Party is their home. Yet, the Police Department seems determined to plan for a Lakers victory celebration times 10 and to go it alone should the nightmare come true. Paradoxically, the time couldn’t be better for the LAPD to engage the wider community in its convention preparations.

The pressures facing the LAPD are unmatched in its history: the threat of a federal takeover because of continuing fallout from the Rampart scandal; the fear that police misconduct of the type associated with Rampart may be more departmentwide than expected, which could cost the city more millions of dollars in civil suits; the steady erosion of rank-and-file morale; insistent demands for greater citizen oversight; and the plaintive but strong call from neighborhood groups and the City Council for a return of the senior lead officers so central to community policing.

The last time Los Angeles faced a comparable situation to that of the Democratic convention was when it hosted the 1984 Olympics. At the time, there was anxiety about terrorist attacks, and the turbulent 1960s and ‘70s were fresher in people’s minds. But there were also several important differences. The terrorist threat came from abroad. The city’s leadership was generally united, perhaps not as sensitive as it should have been to minority interests and freedom of speech, but certainly a far cry from the current schisms between the mayor and the City Council. And the media were focused on the games, not the streets.

Political conventions should foster debate, even if the selection of the presidential nominee is known long before a single delegate enters the hall. No one fears those who seek to change policy; it is those who seek to use the occasion to overturn the process who pose the real danger. It’s happened before: Provocateurs push the police to overreact, “demonstrating” the repressive nature of the establishment, thereby forcing everybody else to choose sides. Yet, if the LAPD joined with legitimate leaders from all sides, individuals with credibility in their constituencies, the capacity for chaos could be undercut. And if the police had no choice but to react forcefully, they could count on community opinion to back them up.

The LAPD is not the same department it was when four of its officers beat Rodney G. King in 1991. It is probably the most ethnically diverse police organization in the country. But it has retreated from outreach efforts undertaken after the civil unrest of 1992. Parks wields a strict baton, but his harsh, centralizing approach to accountability leaves little room for community engagement, which is exactly what will be called for if the anarchist threat succeeds in cleaning up the middle and forcing Los Angeles residents to take sides over the protests. It’s not too late for the city and the LAPD to engage more community leaders in its convention planning. And build on those new relationships after the convention is over.