California Defies Newsom: Police Refuse to Enforce Anti-ICE ‘Mask Law’

Paul Riverbank, 2/3/2026California police reject state anti-ICE mask law, igniting a national debate over immigration enforcement.

Here’s a recent flashpoint: the Los Angeles Police Department, under the direction of Chief Jim McDonnell, has taken a firm line against enforcing a new state law, the so-called No Secret Police Act, recently signed with fanfare by Governor Gavin Newsom. It’s a law that insists federal immigration agents should reveal their faces during raids, except in a handful of rare cases. The LAPD’s take? “It’s not a safe way to do business,” McDonnell said at a press conference. His voice was steady, but the implication was hard to miss—asking city officers to go toe-to-toe with armed federal agents, over masks, sets up a situation that “doesn’t make any sense.”

Supporters of California’s legislation describe it less as a bureaucratic restriction and more as a step toward creating trust between immigrant communities and the people sworn to protect them. By shedding the literal mask, they say, agents are prevented from carrying out arrests in secret or with unnecessary force. Their opponents, including a large number within federal agencies and the Justice Department, counter that these rules restrict operations and make it dangerous for ICE employees. There’s already litigation, fueled by claims that the law conflicts with the U.S. Constitution.

The police response in Los Angeles hasn’t gone unnoticed. Instead, it’s set off a chain reaction—one that’s jumped across state borders. Rhode Island, of all places, has become an unexpected new front. Over in Providence, Senate Majority Leader Frank Ciccone III has started drafting legislation of his own, designed to curb what he calls “heavy-handed” federal tactics. “We don’t want somebody just picking someone up without a warrant,” he told a gaggle of local reporters, referencing headlines from Minneapolis to Philadelphia, including an incident where Border Patrol officers shot a civilian.

“No innocent person should be shot for no reason,” Ciccone added, not bothering to hide the edge in his voice. His solution? Rules requiring ICE employees to get either a judicial warrant or court order, with new limits on where they’re allowed to detain people.

Meanwhile, Providence Mayor Brett Smiley decided to act before the statehouse could. Signing a city order, he blocked ICE operations anywhere on city-owned property unless agents have a court’s express permission. Police now have standing instructions to escort any such agents off the premises if they show up empty-handed—zero tolerance for what City Hall sees as overreach.

Nationally, the tension is palpable—and visible on freezing city streets, where demonstrators have gathered for days on end, waving signs and chanting outside statehouses. Look at Rhode Island again: both the governor and lieutenant governor demand the ouster of Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem, arguing that ICE has endangered nonviolent protesters and used “reckless — and sometimes fatal — tactics” in the last year.

But sift through the noise and you hit a minefield of disputed facts. Plenty of advocates, and not a few newsrooms, have claimed that ICE wrongfully detains or even deports U.S. citizens. Critics say those stories don’t hold up under scrutiny. A careful review by one independent group found, for instance, no actual evidence of citizens deported under the Trump administration. Most headlines cite incidents where the detained lacked the necessary documents at the time—a situation that’s usually resolved when proper identification turns up. The law is clear: ICE can’t deport a citizen for an immigration violation, though sometimes the process—detention, sometimes rude questioning—unfolds with confusion or delay.

Much of this gets tangled further in media debates. Green card holders, too, walk a fine line: criminal conduct, abandoning residency, or fraud can land them in removal proceedings. These decisions, for the most part, sit with immigration judges, not ICE field agents. Yet fear lingers in many communities, not always helped by the shifting, sometimes contradictory, nature of local policies.

So the standoff gains new dimensions every day. Cities and states try, in real time, to craft policies they claim will insulate vulnerable communities from perceived federal overreach. In response, Washington tightens its grip, citing its mandate to enforce national laws everywhere. All the while, lawsuits sprout up in federal courts, and both sides gear up for a long legal slog.

Caught in all this aren't just lawmakers and officers, but regular families, legal residents, and citizens who find themselves living with a level of uncertainty they never expected. The core question—who really has authority over a person’s freedom on American soil—looks set to stay in the headlines, with no consensus in sight.

If you stand on the steps of Los Angeles City Hall these days, the air is thick with a new sort of tension—a conflict that doesn’t only pit neighbor against neighbor, but now, city against state, and both against the federal government. It’s the enforcement of immigration law, yes, but also a matter of who really gets to decide how it’s done.Here’s a recent flashpoint: the Los Angeles Police Department, under the direction of Chief Jim McDonnell, has taken a firm line against enforcing a new state law, the so-called No Secret Police Act, recently signed with fanfare by Governor Gavin Newsom. It’s a law that insists federal immigration agents should reveal their faces during raids, except in a handful of rare cases. The LAPD’s take? “It’s not a safe way to do business,” McDonnell said at a press conference. His voice was steady, but the implication was hard to miss—asking city officers to go toe-to-toe with armed federal agents, over masks, sets up a situation that “doesn’t make any sense.”Supporters of California’s legislation describe it less as a bureaucratic restriction and more as a step toward creating trust between immigrant communities and the people sworn to protect them. By shedding the literal mask, they say, agents are prevented from carrying out arrests in secret or with unnecessary force. Their opponents, including a large number within federal agencies and the Justice Department, counter that these rules restrict operations and make it dangerous for ICE employees. There’s already litigation, fueled by claims that the law conflicts with the U.S. Constitution.The police response in Los Angeles hasn’t gone unnoticed. Instead, it’s set off a chain reaction—one that’s jumped across state borders. Rhode Island, of all places, has become an unexpected new front. Over in Providence, Senate Majority Leader Frank Ciccone III has started drafting legislation of his own, designed to curb what he calls “heavy-handed” federal tactics. “We don’t want somebody just picking someone up without a warrant,” he told a gaggle of local reporters, referencing headlines from Minneapolis to Philadelphia, including an incident where Border Patrol officers shot a civilian.“No innocent person should be shot for no reason,” Ciccone added, not bothering to hide the edge in his voice. His solution? Rules requiring ICE employees to get either a judicial warrant or court order, with new limits on where they’re allowed to detain people.Meanwhile, Providence Mayor Brett Smiley decided to act before the statehouse could. Signing a city order, he blocked ICE operations anywhere on city-owned property unless agents have a court’s express permission. Police now have standing instructions to escort any such agents off the premises if they show up empty-handed—zero tolerance for what City Hall sees as overreach.Nationally, the tension is palpable—and visible on freezing city streets, where demonstrators have gathered for days on end, waving signs and chanting outside statehouses. Look at Rhode Island again: both the governor and lieutenant governor demand the ouster of Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem, arguing that ICE has endangered nonviolent protesters and used “reckless — and sometimes fatal — tactics” in the last year.But sift through the noise and you hit a minefield of disputed facts. Plenty of advocates, and not a few newsrooms, have claimed that ICE wrongfully detains or even deports U.S. citizens. Critics say those stories don’t hold up under scrutiny. A careful review by one independent group found, for instance, no actual evidence of citizens deported under the Trump administration. Most headlines cite incidents where the detained lacked the necessary documents at the time—a situation that’s usually resolved when proper identification turns up. The law is clear: ICE can’t deport a citizen for an immigration violation, though sometimes the process—detention, sometimes rude questioning—unfolds with confusion or delay.Much of this gets tangled further in media debates. Green card holders, too, walk a fine line: criminal conduct, abandoning residency, or fraud can land them in removal proceedings. These decisions, for the most part, sit with immigration judges, not ICE field agents. Yet fear lingers in many communities, not always helped by the shifting, sometimes contradictory, nature of local policies.So the standoff gains new dimensions every day. Cities and states try, in real time, to craft policies they claim will insulate vulnerable communities from perceived federal overreach. In response, Washington tightens its grip, citing its mandate to enforce national laws everywhere. All the while, lawsuits sprout up in federal courts, and both sides gear up for a long legal slog.Caught in all this aren't just lawmakers and officers, but regular families, legal residents, and citizens who find themselves living with a level of uncertainty they never expected. The core question—who really has authority over a person’s freedom on American soil—looks set to stay in the headlines, with no consensus in sight.