SUBSCRIBE TO OUR FREE NEWSLETTER
Daily news & progressive opinion—funded by the people, not the corporations—delivered straight to your inbox.
5
#000000
#FFFFFF
5
#000000
#FFFFFF
police
The Disappearing Face of Authority
When those who enforce the law hide their faces, democracy itself is under threat. But history shows people can—and have—pushed back.
Jul 23, 2025
In Los Angeles, they came at night, black helmets, tactical gear, no names, no insignia. Protesters were grabbed off the streets and loaded into unmarked vans. No one knew who they were. No one could ask. Their faces were hidden. Their power, absolute.
We are entering an era in which the agents of state power no longer have faces.
Across the country, from Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) raids in upstate New York to militarized police responses in Atlanta, Chicago, and Portland, Americans are increasingly confronted by law enforcement officers whose identities are concealed. Their names stripped from badges. Their faces obscured by masks, goggles, and helmets. Their authority rendered anonymous.
The stated rationale is familiar: protection from doxxing, retaliation, or harassment. And in an age of hyper-polarization and digital vigilantism, those concerns are not entirely unfounded. Former Federal Bureau of Investigation agent Ali Soufan warns, “Visibility puts a target on your back in the age of online extremism.” That may be true. But the inverse—faceless authority—puts a target on democracy itself.
The mask is not a neutral tool. It is a statement. And it is one that a free society cannot afford to make lightly.
At what point does protecting the enforcer obscure the principle of enforcement?
A democracy policed by faceless enforcers is not merely a tactical adaptation. It is a philosophical departure.
In literature, masks symbolize both freedom and concealment, rebellion and repression. Oscar Wilde famously quipped, “Give a man a mask and he’ll tell you the truth.” But there’s another truth lurking beneath: Masks don’t just enable expression; they also enable erasure.
Social psychologists have long understood this. In 1969, Stanford researcher Philip Zimbardo conducted a now-classic experiment in which participants donned hooded robes and were instructed to administer electric shocks to others. Unsurprisingly, the masked participants delivered higher shocks, exhibiting greater aggression and reduced empathy.
Even children grasp this dynamic. In a Halloween study, masked kids were significantly more likely to steal extra candy than their unmasked peers. A hidden face, even for a moment, grants permission to break the rules.
When combined with state power, anonymity can override individual conscience and turn human beings into instruments of group will.
The history of masked violence in America is not speculative; it is foundational. The Ku Klux Klan’s hooded anonymity wasn’t incidental. It was central to their terror. By day, Klan members were judges, sheriffs, or civic leaders. By night, they became ghosts, free to punish without consequence.
In Nazi Germany, SS and Gestapo agents wore masks during night raids, not only to instill fear but also to psychologically distance themselves from their crimes. In Chile under Augusto Pinochet, secret police donned balaclavas while abducting dissidents. In Iran under the Shah, SAVAK agents masked their faces during torture sessions to erase accountability.
This tactic is a hallmark of authoritarian regimes: concealment of identity to enable unchecked violence.
It is crucial to approach such parallels with care. No one is saying that masked ICE agents in American cities are equivalent to Gestapo squads in Berlin. But the comparison should serve as a warning, not a distraction. The question is not whether history repeats perfectly, but whether we are ignoring its lessons.
Of course, law enforcement officers face real threats. They have been harassed, even targeted for violence. Those risks are real and deserve attention. But the solution cannot be to erode public accountability.
We do not allow judges to hide their names. We do not permit anonymous juries. Our system of justice, however imperfect, relies on visible responsibility. To abandon that ideal in the name of safety is to accept a dangerous new social contract: one in which power flows only one way.
But here’s the hopeful truth: When communities resist the normalization of masked authority, they can win.
In Portland, Oregon, during the 2020 racial justice protests, federal agents from the Department of Homeland Security and U.S. Marshals deployed in camouflage uniforms and unmarked vehicles detained protesters without identifying themselves. The move drew national outrage and lawsuits. Oregon’s attorney general filed suit to stop these “secret police-style” tactics, and public pressure led to federal inspectors general investigating the practice. By 2021, Congress passed a provision requiring federal agents deployed in civil disturbances to display visible identification showing their name or a unique ID code and their agency.
In New York, years of grassroots organizing by groups like Communities United for Police Reform led to the June 2020 repeal of Section 50‑a, a decades-old law that had shielded police disciplinary records from public view. The change came amid mass protests, underlining how collective action can dismantle policies of anonymity that enable abuse.
In Oakland, California, the issue of hidden identity became headline news in 2011, during the Occupy Oakland demonstrations. An officer was caught on video covering his nameplate with tape, a violation of departmental policy. He was suspended for 30 days, and his supervising lieutenant was demoted. Public outrage led to stronger rules requiring all Oakland officers to display badge numbers and name tags even when outfitted in riot gear.
These victories didn’t happen overnight. They were the result of sustained advocacy and legal challenges. And they remind us: Faceless authority can be challenged, but only if we refuse to accept it as inevitable.
The logic of masking metastasizes. Today it may be ICE. Tomorrow it could be traffic cops, school resource officers, or regulators enforcing housing codes and environmental policy. Once anonymity is normalized, it becomes nearly impossible to roll back.
Imagine being confronted by a law enforcement officer whose face is completely obscured. What would you feel? Fear? Confusion? Powerlessness? These are not accidental responses. Perhaps that is the point.
But a free society cannot function on intimidation.
We live in an open society. Police do not rule us; they serve us. To wear a badge is to accept a burden, to be known, to be scrutinized, to be restrained by the public’s gaze.
The philosopher Michel Foucault warned that power is most effective when it is least visible. But the inverse is also true: Power is most just when it is most seen.
A democracy cannot thrive on ghosts. It requires people, real, visible people, making visible decisions in the full light of day.
So, what can be done?
To stop the normalization of faceless power, we can:
- Demand transparency laws banning face coverings in non-high-risk operations;
- Support local watchdog journalism that documents abuses of anonymity;
- Join campaigns for demilitarizing police departments and banning unmarked uniforms during public interactions; and
- Insist on civilian oversight boards with real teeth to enforce accountability.
The mask is not a neutral tool. It is a statement. And it is one that a free society cannot afford to make lightly.
If we want a future where power serves people, not the other way around, it begins with insisting that authority shows its face.
Across the country, from Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) raids in upstate New York to militarized police responses in Atlanta, Chicago, and Portland, Americans are increasingly confronted by law enforcement officers whose identities are concealed. Their names stripped from badges. Their faces obscured by masks, goggles, and helmets. Their authority rendered anonymous.
The stated rationale is familiar: protection from doxxing, retaliation, or harassment. And in an age of hyper-polarization and digital vigilantism, those concerns are not entirely unfounded. Former Federal Bureau of Investigation agent Ali Soufan warns, “Visibility puts a target on your back in the age of online extremism.” That may be true. But the inverse—faceless authority—puts a target on democracy itself.
The mask is not a neutral tool. It is a statement. And it is one that a free society cannot afford to make lightly.
At what point does protecting the enforcer obscure the principle of enforcement?
A democracy policed by faceless enforcers is not merely a tactical adaptation. It is a philosophical departure.
In literature, masks symbolize both freedom and concealment, rebellion and repression. Oscar Wilde famously quipped, “Give a man a mask and he’ll tell you the truth.” But there’s another truth lurking beneath: Masks don’t just enable expression; they also enable erasure.
Social psychologists have long understood this. In 1969, Stanford researcher Philip Zimbardo conducted a now-classic experiment in which participants donned hooded robes and were instructed to administer electric shocks to others. Unsurprisingly, the masked participants delivered higher shocks, exhibiting greater aggression and reduced empathy.
Even children grasp this dynamic. In a Halloween study, masked kids were significantly more likely to steal extra candy than their unmasked peers. A hidden face, even for a moment, grants permission to break the rules.
When combined with state power, anonymity can override individual conscience and turn human beings into instruments of group will.
The history of masked violence in America is not speculative; it is foundational. The Ku Klux Klan’s hooded anonymity wasn’t incidental. It was central to their terror. By day, Klan members were judges, sheriffs, or civic leaders. By night, they became ghosts, free to punish without consequence.
In Nazi Germany, SS and Gestapo agents wore masks during night raids, not only to instill fear but also to psychologically distance themselves from their crimes. In Chile under Augusto Pinochet, secret police donned balaclavas while abducting dissidents. In Iran under the Shah, SAVAK agents masked their faces during torture sessions to erase accountability.
This tactic is a hallmark of authoritarian regimes: concealment of identity to enable unchecked violence.
It is crucial to approach such parallels with care. No one is saying that masked ICE agents in American cities are equivalent to Gestapo squads in Berlin. But the comparison should serve as a warning, not a distraction. The question is not whether history repeats perfectly, but whether we are ignoring its lessons.
Of course, law enforcement officers face real threats. They have been harassed, even targeted for violence. Those risks are real and deserve attention. But the solution cannot be to erode public accountability.
We do not allow judges to hide their names. We do not permit anonymous juries. Our system of justice, however imperfect, relies on visible responsibility. To abandon that ideal in the name of safety is to accept a dangerous new social contract: one in which power flows only one way.
But here’s the hopeful truth: When communities resist the normalization of masked authority, they can win.
In Portland, Oregon, during the 2020 racial justice protests, federal agents from the Department of Homeland Security and U.S. Marshals deployed in camouflage uniforms and unmarked vehicles detained protesters without identifying themselves. The move drew national outrage and lawsuits. Oregon’s attorney general filed suit to stop these “secret police-style” tactics, and public pressure led to federal inspectors general investigating the practice. By 2021, Congress passed a provision requiring federal agents deployed in civil disturbances to display visible identification showing their name or a unique ID code and their agency.
In New York, years of grassroots organizing by groups like Communities United for Police Reform led to the June 2020 repeal of Section 50‑a, a decades-old law that had shielded police disciplinary records from public view. The change came amid mass protests, underlining how collective action can dismantle policies of anonymity that enable abuse.
In Oakland, California, the issue of hidden identity became headline news in 2011, during the Occupy Oakland demonstrations. An officer was caught on video covering his nameplate with tape, a violation of departmental policy. He was suspended for 30 days, and his supervising lieutenant was demoted. Public outrage led to stronger rules requiring all Oakland officers to display badge numbers and name tags even when outfitted in riot gear.
These victories didn’t happen overnight. They were the result of sustained advocacy and legal challenges. And they remind us: Faceless authority can be challenged, but only if we refuse to accept it as inevitable.
The logic of masking metastasizes. Today it may be ICE. Tomorrow it could be traffic cops, school resource officers, or regulators enforcing housing codes and environmental policy. Once anonymity is normalized, it becomes nearly impossible to roll back.
Imagine being confronted by a law enforcement officer whose face is completely obscured. What would you feel? Fear? Confusion? Powerlessness? These are not accidental responses. Perhaps that is the point.
But a free society cannot function on intimidation.
We live in an open society. Police do not rule us; they serve us. To wear a badge is to accept a burden, to be known, to be scrutinized, to be restrained by the public’s gaze.
The philosopher Michel Foucault warned that power is most effective when it is least visible. But the inverse is also true: Power is most just when it is most seen.
A democracy cannot thrive on ghosts. It requires people, real, visible people, making visible decisions in the full light of day.
So, what can be done?
To stop the normalization of faceless power, we can:
- Demand transparency laws banning face coverings in non-high-risk operations;
- Support local watchdog journalism that documents abuses of anonymity;
- Join campaigns for demilitarizing police departments and banning unmarked uniforms during public interactions; and
- Insist on civilian oversight boards with real teeth to enforce accountability.
The mask is not a neutral tool. It is a statement. And it is one that a free society cannot afford to make lightly.
If we want a future where power serves people, not the other way around, it begins with insisting that authority shows its face.
Keep ReadingShow Less
California Leaders Push Back on 'Masked Abductions' by ICE, CBP
"Men dressed in tactical gear, operating unmarked vehicles without displaying credentials or agency affiliation, have infiltrated our neighborhoods," said Huntington Park Mayor Arturo Flores.
Jun 23, 2025
As U.S. President Donald Trump's "mass deportation" crusade continues, a mayor in Los Angeles County is calling on his city's police department to intervene, citing what he described as increasingly lawless conduct by federal immigration officers.
Arturo Flores, the mayor of Huntington Park, issued a statement on Saturday condemning what he called "masked abductions" by Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), which has spent the past month raiding workplaces, farms, and homes as part of the Trump administration's efforts to ramp up the deportation campaign.
"These are not lawful arrests. These are abductions," said Flores. "For more than a week, we have witnessed families being torn apart, children left without parents, and residents vanishing without explanation. Men dressed in tactical gear, operating unmarked vehicles without displaying credentials or agency affiliation, have infiltrated our neighborhoods in direct violation of our community’s values, civil rights, and the basic principles of due process."
Flores formally ordered the Huntington Park Police Department "to begin verifying the identities and authority of any individuals conducting such operations within city limits" and to enforce vehicle codes requiring cars to have visible license plates and agency markings.
On June 12, Huntington Park was turned into a national spectacle when it was targeted for a high-profile raid attended by Kristi Noem, Secretary of the Department of Homeland Security. The DHS chief arrived with a squadron of masked, armed federal agents at a home DHS claimed was occupied by a dangerous criminal. But when they stormed the home with rifles, the only people inside were a pregnant mother and her four kids—all U.S. citizens.
The family was not arrested, but Flores said he has since received several reports of masked and unidentified federal officers snatching people off the streets in broad daylight.
"These actions have sparked rumors of unauthorized vigilantes or bounty hunters operating under the guise of federal enforcement, have triggered widespread fear and confusion throughout the community," he said.
Mayors across the country have issued strong condemnations to ICE's actions in their communities, while some have said they'd refuse to cooperate with federal immigration raids. However, Flores is one of very few who have gone a step further, urging local officers to intervene in situations where federal officers violate the rights of those they detain.
"This is not immigration enforcement. This is state-sanctioned intimidation," said Flores.
That sense of intimidation is spreading through communities across the Los Angeles area. As The Guardian reported on Saturday, the crackdown has left some of Los Angeles' Latino neighborhoods resembling "ghost towns" where people are afraid to leave their homes for fear of being snatched off the street next.
The sight of masked, unidentified officers in plain clothes abducting people without identifying themselves or giving any explanation for their arrests has become an increasingly common sight all across the United States as the Trump administration has turbocharged its efforts to round up undocumented immigrants, the majority of whom have no criminal records.
Though there is no federal statute requiring federal officers to identify themselves, past leaders of these agencies told CNN that masking has historically been reserved for highly sensitive work, like undercover operations.
"The way that they're carrying on without any visible identification—even that they're law enforcement, much less what agency they're with—it really is pretty unprecedented to see at this scale, and I think it’s very dangerous," said Scott Shuchart, a senior ICE official during the Biden administration.
Many videos have circulated of officers violating detainees' rights in flagrant ways while under the cover of anonymity.
On Saturday, multiple masked Customs and Border Protection officers were filmed brutally beating 48-year-old Narciso Barranco, the father of three U.S. Marines, in an IHOP parking lot in Santa Ana.
(Video: KTLA5, via @santaanaproblems on Instagram)
Video has spread across social media of officers forcing Barranco to the ground, striking him in the head at least six times, and kneeling on his neck, pushing his face onto the concrete before dragging the man, frightened and bloody, into an unmarked white van. According to Barranco's sons, he is undocumented, but has no criminal record.
Rep. Pramila Jayapal (D-Wash.) has called for the incident to be investigated.
"This is horrific, unacceptable violence by ICE—an increasingly rogue agency with zero respect for the law," she said.
In response to the attack on Barranco and others like it, two Bay Area legislators, state Sens. Scott Wiener (D-11) and Jesse Arreguín (D-7), introduced a bill on Monday that would require law enforcement at all levels, including federal, to identify themselves and bar them from wearing masks.
"People covering their faces, impersonating police officers—it erodes trust in law enforcement and it undermines community safety," Arreguín said.
Keep ReadingShow Less
Report: State and Local Cops Doing License Plate Lookups for ICE
"If ICE can use a nationwide network of license place readers for its purposes, what's stopping the government from using it for whatever purposes they want?" asked one critic.
May 27, 2025
State and local law enforcement agencies across the United States are using data gleaned from automated license plate readers to assist federal immigration authorities in the Trump administration's mass deportation efforts, a report published Tuesday detailed.
Data reviewed by 404 Media found that state and local police are using an artificial-intelligence-powered automatic license plate reader (ALPR) system made by Atlanta-based Flock Safety to perform immigration-related lookups and other actions in service of U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) investigations, "giving federal law enforcement side-door access to a tool that it currently does not have a formal contract for," according to report authors Jason Koebler and Joseph Cox.
Koebler and Cox found that Flock Safety's ALRP systems are being used in more than 5,000 communities from coast to coast, where law enforcement agencies have conducted over 4,000 lookups "either at the behest of the federal government or as an 'informal' favor to federal law enforcement."
According to Koebler and Cox:
As part of a Flock search, police have to provide a "reason" they are performing the lookup. In the "reason" field for searches of [Danville, Illinois'] cameras, officers from across the U.S. wrote "immigration," "ICE," "ICE+ERO"—which is ICE’s Enforcement and Removal Operations, the section that focuses on deportations—"illegal immigration," "ICE WARRANT," and other immigration-related reasons. Although lookups mentioning ICE occurred across both the Biden and Trump administrations, all of the lookups that explicitly list "immigration" as their reason were made after [U.S. President Donald] Trump was inaugurated, according to the data.
The Department of Homeland Security does use license plate scanning cameras at the border and has shown great interest in the technology. Immigration advocates have been concerned that ICE could turn to local agencies' ALPR networks, but this is the first confirmation such data access is happening during Trump's mass deportation efforts.
"Different law enforcement systems serve different purposes and might be more appropriate for one agency or another," Jay Stanley, senior policy analyst at the ACLU's Speech, Privacy, and Technology Project, told 404 Media. "There should be public conversations about what we want different agencies to be able to do."
"I assume there's a fair number of community residents who accept giving police the power to deploy license plate readers to catch a bank robber, who would absolutely gag on the idea that their community's cameras have become part of a nationwide ICE surveillance infrastructure," Stanley added. "And yet if this kind of informal backdoor access to surveillance devices is allowed, then there's functionally no limits to what systems ICE can tap into with no public oversight or control into what they are tapping into."
While state and local law enforcement agencies normally lack the authority to enforce federal immigration laws, the Trump administration has encouraged them to participate in a program called 287(g), a provision of the the Immigration and Nationality Act that authorizes DHS agencies including ICE to delegate certain immigration enforcement actions to state and municipal police.
On the first day of his second term, Trump issued an executive order "to authorize state and local law enforcement officials, as the secretary of homeland security determines are qualified and appropriate, to perform the functions of immigration officers in relation to the investigation, apprehension, or detention of aliens in the United States."
In an opinion piece published by Common Dreams in 2021, immigrant rights defenders Gabriela Viera and Cynthia Garcia wrote that 287(g) "turns local law enforcement into a gateway to deportation and deepens collaboration between ICE and local police."
Previous reporting by The Guardian's Johana Bhuiyan detailed how ICE "has gained access to troves of data from sanctuary cities that could aid its raids and enforcement actions" in municipalities where undocumented immigrants are ostensibly protected.
"This sort of mass tracking violates the promise made to undocumented residents that they will be safe in the county," Albert Fox Cahn, the director of the privacy advocacy group the Surveillance Tech Oversight Project, told Bhuiyan.
Responding to 404 Media's request for comment, Flock Safety said that "we are committed to ensuring every customer can leverage technology in a way that reflects their values, and support democratically authorized governing bodies to determine what that means for their community."
"We work with local governments across the country to adopt best practices on [license plate reader] policies, including robust auditing requirements," the company added.
However, ACLU of Illinois communications and public policy director Edwin Yohnka told
404 Media, "This is is really a national system of data once you start collecting," adding that "it is incredibly troubling to see this list of places from around the country who are performing these searches of Illinois cameras."
Responding to the 404 Media report, journalist Krishna Sai Andavolu asked, "If ICE can use a nationwide network of license place readers for its purposes, what's stopping the government from using it for whatever purposes they want?"
Keep ReadingShow Less
Most Popular