Official Negligence

Luo Cannon, in an attempt to provide historical context for the Rodney King event, points to a study performed in the 1980’s regarding the conditions of South Central Los Angelos. The report details the squalid conditions of the ghetto, its heavy racial and class tensions, and its dim economic future in contrast to the booming downtown. He cites the report as an ominous warning gone completely unheeded, as if the LA riots of 1992 were a simple matter of prediction and prevention.

 In hindsight, one can see that the dismal conditions in South Central created the perfect storm for chaos, a blend of social angst, extreme poverty, and rules established by gangsters rather than government. Cannon alludes to the notion that, had there been some sort of official intervention to help South Central residents, no great tragedy would have occurred to begin with. He points to the blundering economic mistakes made by the California administration, citing the fact that nearly 25% of employers planned to move their business’ outside the state due to its distressing regulatory requirements.

Yet Cannon offers no clear path for South Central, other than untangling the jungle of bureaucracy that is California’s government to ease job flight. The plight of poverty plays a leading role in the making of the riots, but so does a history of injustice for the underprivileged. In Chapter 5, he discusses the common sentiment among South Central residents that fair trials were often not afforded to members of the lower class due to racial stigma, yet addresses no racial issues in his opening chapter. It almost alludes to the idea that racial tension is a fantasy invented by the impoverished to explain their difficult life, and justify their opposition to police forces that hinder their “lifestyles.” For the residents of South Central, however, racial tension is very real, as can be clearly seen in the violent reaction to what they viewed as a racist decision to acquit the white authorities involved with Rodney King.

Knowing little about the series of events that led to his capture, I was surprised by the extensive steps the officers took during the arrest to avoid the beating. Cannon illustrates the confusion felt by the arresting officers in a simple and elegant fashion. By allowing the reader to see every perspective from different eyes, the chaos of perceptions is made clear. Cannon writes of the officers with deference and makes an effort to depict the actions in connection with their emotional stimulants, muddled by the din and the adrenaline. His painstakingly detailed account of what went through each party’s mind during the incident reveals an sensation we are all familiar with; that of panic. In a sense, the admission that the men in question are emotional creatures removes their dehumanizing uniforms and the social stigma of their position, allowing them to be judged in a clearer light than that cast by the New York Times or CNN.

At the same time, it becomes difficult to feel empathy for the police when the story is detailed from the opposite perspective. King was not drunk, not “dusted” as the cops believed, and Cannon portrays him not as a cornered dog but scared and confused. Although the officers were fueled by the passion of the moment, for the majority of the 81-second beating they were hitting a limp, unconscious body.

The ACLUs response to the King incident struck me. They produced a publicity campaign saying, “Who do you call when the gang wears blue uniforms?” Indeed, when asked why he didn’t call the police when he was video taping the beating of King, Holiday responds, “They were there,” (page 50). The course of action you take when you are being oppressed by the people who are supposed to protect you is confusing. No doubt, some of the police bystanders at the scene felt the same way, with a respected authority figure directing the beating, what is there to do but stand aghast?