Who are the men in masks?
Deportation raids and national character
It’s only a couple of weeks since I returned from China, and I’m trying to deal with the fact that my home country is not the country I grew up in. I was never a gung-ho patriotic American kid (I refused to recite the Pledge of Allegiance1), but I did share the sense that many people around the world have had, that American values were worthy, even when our actions on the world stage were shabby and mean.
The final words in our national anthem are “Land of the free, home of the brave.” Our best-known symbol is the Statue of Liberty.
But I returned to a country in which masked and violent men are roaring into urban neighborhoods and small towns2, claiming to represent the government, and the law.
Those of you outside the US might not know just how drastically this is changing the texture of our society. Or it may not seem like something completely new in America. After all, everyone knows that race has been a uniquely American problem for a very long time. And we have a history of mistreating immigrant groups.
It’s natural that news reporting in other countries should focus on the issues that matter there, and to the world at large, and not so much on our internal issues, many of which must seem intractable to non-Americans. Here’s what we wrote in the introduction to Global Perspectives on the United States in 2007:
We originally thought we could organize our coverage based on each nation’s response to key events in history, such as the American Revolution, the Civil War, the world wars, the founding of the United Nations, and so forth. What we found, however, was that this approach was hopelessly ethnocentric. All over the world, most people’s views of the United States are shaped primarily by what has transpired in their nation and how the United States was involved, or in some cases, such as the Hungarian Revolt in 1956, how the United States was not involved.
Even then, when global opinion was low, we were able to write, “The United States is also the only nation that throughout its history has seen its ethnic and religious diversity as a source of strength.”3 What’s happening today is different. Racism is resurgent, and celebrated, in the corridors of power.
I’ll link below to a couple of pieces about the deportation police that will, I hope, give you a sense of just how important this is. Today, however, I want to stick to a question that’s plaguing me: Who are the men behind the masks?
Are they long-serving law enforcement personnel who have chafed at the old rules and finally have a chance to terrorize and brutalize? Or are they new recruits, drawn in by the opportunities of the moment? Oddly enough, you don’t have to have law enforcement experience to become a a deportation officer with ICE Enforcement and Removal Operations.
Even more odd is that they have diversity programs: “ICE has specific hiring programs for veterans, people with disabilities, students, recent graduates and other applicants to take on challenging projects and work directly with us.” You can’t have a felony conviction, but at least some of the January 6th insurrectionists who were pardoned presumably now have clean records and might fall into that “other applicants” category.
What we’re seeing today is a reversal of the arc of justice.4 In recent decades, we’ve tried to make law enforcement more accountable, not only with warrants but with requirements about identification and body and car cams. But in 2025, there are unidentified armed men in masks waiting outside the district courthouse.
Yes, they often have a baseball cap or a vest that says ICE or Homeland Security. I can buy a Homeland Security or FBI baseball cap for $15 online and have it delivered on Thursday. I’m sure I can get a jacket or a vest or a tshirt, too. Maybe that’s what we all should be wearing, especially during efforts to protect immigrants—a reversal of what people did at the end of the movie V for Vendetta, when everyone donned a “V” mask to protect the real V.
When I see photos or videos of these armed men hiding their faces, I wonder about their families, the children they go home to, the wives and lovers they sleep with. Families and friends recognize them even in masks. Are they proud of this new form of service to the nation?
I picture the big man who’s spent his day terrorizing farm workers (citizens and green-card holders too) or pushing a woman into his unmarked SUV while her children scream. He gets home after work and calls out, “Hey, kids, Dad’s home. Are you doing your homework? Finish fast and we can go for ice cream.” He kisses his wife and bounces the baby.
Later, I see them at a table sitting with their ice cream cones and one of the older kids points to the white man at the cash register and the two brown women working the counter. “Think they’re illegals, Dad? Maybe that guy should be arrested too. I really wish I could see it.”
Yes, I’m starting to look at other Americans and wonder who they really are. Would the town police join in the thuggery if they had a chance? What are people telling their children about what’s going on? And what are we doing to make a difference? My own small patch of the United States is, for the most part, peaceful and civilized still. But I am fearful.
Reporting on public opinion is much too shallow. We get polls, and the major papers run the reality TV version of investigative reporting: “We ask 10 Harris voters what they think.” Articles about immigrant arrests will have a few quotes from local residents, while I want to see in-depth reporting on the people who are actually doing this stuff, because their willingness to comply tells us a lot about what we have to worry about.
I’m sure these things are complex, and that many working in law enforcement are struggling over what to do and where to draw the line. I’d like to know more about those struggles and about the people who decide that doing the right thing matters more than a boss’s directives or the pressure of their comrades.
As I wrote this letter, I looked at today’s New York Times. My heart lifted when I read this soldier’s story: “I’m a Conservative Evangelical. I’m Done With the Army” (gift link). The sad part is that he, along with moderate Republicans in Congress, is resigning. We may find ourselves with no one but thugs in power in some parts of the country. What happens then?
John Cleese (formerly of Monty Python) put it in his Substack Notes: “It’s clear that the Big, Beautiful Bill is going to be so unpopular with the electorate that the mid-term elections [2026] will not be happening this time.”
Recommended reading
Who is Karen Christensen? Find out here. What is The Way We Live Now trying to accomplish? Read about it here
“My twin brother has never really forgiven me for 9th grade. Other boys would tell him that his sister wasn’t wearing a bra (this was 1972). And every morning in homeroom I embarrassed him by refusing to say the Pledge of Allegiance. He had to sit next to me because we were arranged alphabetically. Every day, for 180 days, I stayed in my seat reading a book while the class stood and recited the Pledge. They faced the flag but their eyes swiveled between the teacher and me.” Read the whole thing.
Here’s a paragraph from that introduction: “But in the five years since the attacks, global opinion has shifted. The United States remains powerful, but its relationships with many nations have deteriorated badly. For people around the world, long-standing admiration of the United States and a desire to emulate it are now mixed with grave doubts about its values and influence. Before 9/11, for example, 88 percent of Norwegians felt kindly towards the United States. After the attacks, the figure jumped to 99 percent. But the latest survey shows it at only 23 percent. The decline is due largely to the decision to invade a nation—Iraq—that most other nations saw as no threat to the United States, and to a pattern of decision making seen to be ideological and less about relationship building than about domination.” I would love to commission an updated edition!