No
One’s Illegal on Stolen Land—And Other Nonsense Shouted Between Acts of Arson
By
Charlton Allen
www.americanthinker.com
Welcome
to Los Angeles, where all manner of laws are optional, the slogans are
preposterous, and the politicians behave like extras in their own Netflix
docudrama.
This
week’s moral hallucination? “No
one’s illegal on stolen land.”
Yes,
that’s now a standard feature of the protest scene in the City of Angels—where
civic disorder is a form of self-expression, and slogans are a substitute for
intelligent discourse.
A
powerful statement—if you’re high on hashtags and low on history. Or just plain
high.
Which,
judging by the last few decades of California ballot returns, seems to be both
a pastime and a prerequisite for public office.
The
flashpoint came after ICE agents—cast by the left as medieval villains in a
morality play no one asked for—executed a series of lawful immigration
enforcement actions, and in response, activists, anarchists, and Antifa
cosplayers erupted in protest—chanting absurd incantations to the protest
demigods, and offering the usual tribute to that most sacred of rituals:
political violence.
By
sundown, downtown L.A. looked like a sequel to Escape from—well—L.A.,
with better lighting and a worse casting director.
Looters
liberated iPhones and vape pens from bourgeois retailers. Protesters blocked
highways and set dumpsters ablaze—hopefully with no homeless injured in this
particular civil disobedience exercise.
The
city burned, the slogans echoed, and once again, the Democrat establishment
found itself struggling to tell the difference between civil disobedience and
felony arson.
President
Trump, unimpressed with California’s usual cocktail of shilly-shallying and
moral preening, invoked Title 10 and deployed 4,000 National Guard troops and
700 Marines to Los Angeles.
In
any event, the federal government acted while California’s leadership issued
statements telling America to ignore its lying eyes.
No
Los Angeles riot scene is complete without a cameo from Congresswoman Maxine
Waters, the perennial flame-thrower who long ago confused volume
with virtue.
Waters
first denied
that there was any violence. “No one was shot. No one was killed,” she
declared, as flaming barricades lit up the skyline and journalists staggered
away from tear gas with bleeding faces—live on cable news.
Then
again, Maxine Waters has been in politics so long that she may no longer
recognize a riot—especially when it fits the narrative. When you’ve cheered
enough mayhem, it stops looking like mayhem. It just looks like Tuesday.
Not
satisfied with gaslighting the country, she then attempted to storm a federal
detention facility—at least as much as her 86-year-old legs would
allow—unauthorized—and reportedly taunted National Guard members stationed
outside. “You
better shoot straight,” she told them.
Let
that sink in. An elected member of Congress, standing in front of uniformed
soldiers, demanding they “shoot straight.”
Never
one to shoot straight herself, today’s Maxine sounds less like a hero and more
like Private Slovik—oblivious,
derelict, and unfit for duty.
The
Department of Homeland Security promptly condemned her behavior, calling it
“dangerous” and the congresswoman was “spewing lies” about the violence.
But
not, somehow, surprising.
Now,
back to this bit about “No one’s illegal on stolen land.”
I
learned a long time ago there’s little to gain from interpreting—with
reason—the mind-droppings of the irrational.
But
do these mental giants realize that, at some point in time, every piece of land
on earth was taken from someone, somewhere, somehow?
I’ll
start taking this argument seriously the day every
Ben & Jerry’s location shuts down and gifts deeds to the nearest
government-recognized tribe. Until then, it’s just bumper-sticker theology for
the mass-transit wing of the progressive movement—meaning, they don’t even own
a bumper to slap the sticker on.
This
might explain why they’re so quick to burn cars during “peaceful” protests.
The
irony of torching Teslas in the name of environmental justice and this week’s
cause du jour is lost on them—along with the carbon plume from flaming lithium
batteries and polymer interiors.
Native
Americans have suffered enough at the hands of sanctimonious white people
through the years—reservation agents, bootleggers, land speculators, and social
reformers alike. They’ve been displaced, patronized, and exploited for
generations.
So
the idea that they must now suffer the additional indignity of having their
historic trauma appropriated for the sloganeering of progressive rabble—most of
whom wouldn’t last five minutes on a reservation without Wi-Fi or a can of
Olipop—is beyond tone-deaf.
It’s
insulting. And it reveals what much of this movement is: not solidarity, but
self-indulgence dressed in someone else’s suffering.
Something
tells me that, given the context, at least some of the rabble believe the land
was “stolen from Mexico”—as if Alta California were some utopian
patchwork of ranchos and pueblos before the Mexican-American War.
Conveniently
forgotten, of course, are the Chumash, Tongva, and other indigenous tribes
whose land was seized by the Centralist Mexican Republic—née First Mexican
Republic, née Mexican Provisional Government, née First Mexican Empire, née
Spanish Empire—long before the Treaty
of Guadalupe Hidalgo ever made it to print.
And
lest we forget, the Russian Empire had outposts in California too. One wonders
if Adam Schiff knows about Fort Ross—though
since it’s not mentioned in the Steele Dossier, he probably assumes it’s
Kamala’s favorite vineyard in Sonoma.
But
that only proves the point: this isn’t about justice—it’s about narrative
control. History is selectively edited to fit a chant, a hashtag, or a
Soros-funded placard that arrived fresher than the protesters did.
Colonialism
is condemned—but only the correct kind, which more often than not isn’t
colonialism at all. If it doesn’t serve the message, it didn’t happen.
Also
worth noting: there’s a reason so many of these migrants crossed the border
into the United States—many illegally—and want to stay.
And
it’s not because Tijuana is the Second Rome—or even a Second Trebizond.
They
came because the American system—for all its imperfections—offers opportunity,
safety, and structure: things in short supply in the very countries these
activists now romanticize.
And,
lamentably, in short supply in Los Angeles these days.
Now,
if an illegal alien is waving a Mexican flag over a smoldering American street,
it looks and smells—(looking at you, Gwen Walz)—like an invasion.
And
how does one defeat an invasion?
I’ll
leave that for your consideration.
The
left’s narrative, predictably, is that this entire episode is Trump’s
fault—because how dare the president enforce the law.
But
let’s pause for a moment and remember first principles. Enforcement of our
nation's laws is a constitutional duty of the presidency.
Article
II, Section 3 of the Constitution mandates that the president “shall take
care that the laws be faithfully executed.”
It
is not contingent on whether state officials approve. It is not contingent on
how much those violating the law throw rocks or torch motor vehicles. It is an
affirmative obligation—embedded at the core of presidential responsibility.
Sadly,
the last administration lacked the wherewithal to have President Autopen take
care to execute much of anything. And it’s hard to pen—oops, pin—the blame when
no one can say for sure who was in charge while Joe Biden sat in the corner thinking
he was a bird about to fly to Baskin-Robbins.
What
the Democrats still can’t seem to grasp is that Trump has a gift for putting
them on the wrong side of what you might call the 80–20 issues—the fights where
four out of five Americans land squarely against them.
This
is one of those fights.
As
Brit Hume recently put it, the Democrats’ positioning here is beyond
politically unsustainable—it’s
political insanity. Truth.
Americans
overwhelmingly support law and order. They don’t want to see their cities in
flames, their police officers under siege, or their neighborhoods turned into
staging grounds for riot-themed performance art.
And
they certainly don’t appreciate being told it’s all “mostly peaceful” while a
flaming hellscape flickers in the background.
Ultimately,
if there is a unifying leitmotif in modern American progressivism—beyond
its Pavlovian opposition to Trump—it is the embrace of a narcissistic
nihilism: a worldview that destroys institutions it cannot control,
deconstructs history it cannot comprehend, and desecrates values it never
believed in to begin with—all with a messianic zeal bordering on mania.
If
the Democrat party does not cast off the yoke of madness and bind itself once
more to law and order, then it shall reap the whirlwind.
For
those who sup with anarchy do not inherit a nation—they inherit the void. And
the void, as always, smells of sulfur, melted asphalt, broken glass—and broken
dreams.