My body stiffened as images of burning buildings recently flashed across my television screen. News programs were replaying the footage, exactly a decade old, of the urban rebellion in Los Angeles--otherwise known as the Los Angeles riots of 1992. I watched the screen as it showed the beating of African American motorist Rodney King by white police officers. I watched the clip of the beating of white truck driver Reginald Denny by black men. And I felt the same fear and insecurity that gripped me ten years ago, when I first saw those images broadcast.

What would it have been like to be beaten within an inch of your life? And what would become of the black and Latino folks who couldn't contain their rage any longer as the National Guard moved in? We know what happened. Fifty-five lives were lost and 1,100 buildings were destroyed.

When most people talk about what caused the civil unrest of 1992, they often point to how the city's blacks, Latinos, Asian Americans, and whites were not getting along. That issue is not unimportant. But it was not central to the rage that sparked the riots. The critical issue was white-on-black racism and police brutality. The riots happened because black folks were angry with the police department, the city of Los Angeles, and the nation for the humiliation, degradation, and oppression of an entire people. Black folks, along with the rest of the world, had watched the brutal beating of Rodney King for months on the TV news. They had held onto the hope that this time blatant evidence of police brutality would send those responsible to prison. But the cops had walked.

The message to black people was clear: The justice system can violate your constitutional rights in the most brutal way with no consequences. The acquittals of the four police officers seemed to say that black life had no value--and there was nothing you could do about it.

Black folks and Latinos rose up and said, Hell No! By rampaging through the city, they succeeded in making a statement of their own. Black and Latino life would stand for something--if only to make the city, the state, and nation pay a little something for the humiliation it had wrought.

Perhaps the rage would have been unfounded if the Rodney King case were atypical. But it was all too typical. Throughout this nation's history, people of color have been beaten by so-called "protectors of the peace," in clear violation of the law. And for the most part, those responsible for this brutality have avoided punishment. Police officers protect each other with the zeal of hardened gang members and rarely face trial. In the rare instances that they do go to court, prosecutors are unwilling to aggressively pursue the case because of their close relationships with police departments. Thus the cycle continues.

Waiting for the flames

Coming to a neighborhood near you

Story Index