Los Angeles’s top cop is not here for the political spin. After a year that saw the city erupt in protest, chaos, and violence, LAPD Chief Jim McDonnell is finally pushing back—hard—at what he calls unfair, uninformed attacks from a mayoral candidate who, in his view, was nowhere to be found when the streets were burning. The target of his frustration is City Councilmember and mayoral hopeful Nithya Raman, who has made police accountability and immigration policy central planks of her campaign. But McDonnell, in pointed comments to The Post, made clear he is done staying quiet. The clash centers on the June 6, 2025, riots in downtown Los Angeles, a night that left 52 police officers assaulted and the city’s leadership facing tough questions. While that violence unfolded, Raman was reportedly spending hours enjoying drinks at a trendy Silver Lake restaurant—an image that has become a political lightning rod and a symbol of what McDonnell and others see as a dangerous disconnect between rhetoric and reality.
The irony is not lost on McDonnell. Raman has positioned herself as a reformer who wants to fire him, accusing the LAPD of being complicit in federal immigration enforcement and of failing to protect undocumented residents from ICE. She has gone so far as to suggest that McDonnell and the department are “fascist liars,” a charge that carries weight in a city as divided as Los Angeles. But McDonnell is meeting that rhetoric with the weary authority of a man who spent the night in the middle of a war zone. “I was out there,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of lived experience. “I don’t know that people who are criticizing us were anywhere near there.” The implication is clear: it is easy to hurl accusations from a comfortable distance, especially when you are enjoying a drink in the hills while others are taking bottles and bricks to the head.
McDonnell has tried to take the high road throughout the campaign, brushing off attacks to keep the department focused on its mission. But even he has his limits. The “fascist” comment, in particular, seemed to cross a line. “It’s very disappointing to me that we have to deal with that,” he said. “In the second-largest city in America, we expect more than that.” It is a measured rebuke, but beneath it lies genuine frustration—not just with Raman, but with a broader culture that he believes has become too comfortable demonizing police while offering little understanding of the impossible situations officers face. McDonnell’s tone is not defensive; it is exhausted. He has been in law enforcement for decades, and he knows that public safety is not a talking point. It is a daily, sometimes deadly, responsibility.
The night of June 6, 2025, was one of those nights that tests a department’s resolve. As protests over immigration enforcement spiraled out of control, McDonnell described a scene that sounds less like a political demonstration and more like a battlefield. Officers were not just facing verbal insults or occasional shoving; they were facing commercial-grade fireworks capable of killing, Molotov cocktails thrown like baseballs, and all-terrain vehicles being driven directly into police lines. The projectiles came thick and fast: rocks, chunks of curb, bolts, batteries, even frozen water bottles—each one capable of causing serious injury. McDonnell did not sugarcoat it. “They were being assaulted by commercial-grade fireworks, which can kill you. Those can be lethal,” he said. “We were in a position where we had no choice but to defend ourselves, and we always try and use the least amount of force possible.”
The decision to deploy tear gas that night has been second-guessed by critics who see it as another example of police overreach. But McDonnell defends it as a necessary evil, one that prevented what could have been a catastrophic loss of life. He describes a scene of absolute bedlam: Molotov cocktails being thrown, ATVs driving into police lines, and a relentless barrage of rocks, pieces of curb, bolts, batteries, and frozen water bottles raining down on officers. Commercial-grade fireworks—explosive devices powerful enough to kill—were launched at police lines. Officers were not just managing a protest; they were surviving an ambush. McDonnell is unapologetic about the use of tear gas, calling it a lifesaving measure rather than an act of aggression. “We were in a position where we had no choice but to defend ourselves, and we always try and use the least amount of force possible,” he said. “So, in effect, by doing that, we saved lives.”
For McDonnell, the stakes extend far beyond Los Angeles. “The eyes of the world are on Los Angeles,” he said. “What we do here matters.” He fears that a catastrophic outcome in his city—one officer killed, one mass-casualty event too many—would send shockwaves across the country, emboldening anti-police movements and making the job of law enforcement even more difficult. He credits the LAPD’s use of tear gas and other crowd-control tactics with preventing a deadly-force situation. Officers faced commercial-grade fireworks, which he notes can be lethal. They were hit with Molotov cocktails, rocks, chunks of curb, bolts, batteries, and frozen water bottles. ATVs were driven into police skirmish lines. And still, McDonnell insists, the goal was always de-escalation. “We were in a position where we had no choice but to defend ourselves, and we always try and use the least amount of force possible,” he said. “So, in effect, by doing that, we saved lives.”
This is not just a local story. McDonnell is acutely aware that Los Angeles is watched around the world, and that what happens there resonates far beyond its borders. “The eyes of the world are on Los Angeles,” he warned. “What we do here matters.” That sense of gravity is one of the reasons he is speaking out now, with the mayoral race tightening and the city’s future hanging in the balance. He is not asking for sympathy, he says, but he is asking for understanding. And he has a message for anyone who wants to lead the city: do your homework. McDonnell is urging the next mayor to study policing firsthand, to go on ride-alongs, to sit down with officers and hear what they face every day. “It’s easy to be able to make a judgment on something you don’t know about and be very sure of yourself,” he said. His advice to political aspirants is simple: “Get to know the issues.”
Much of the anger directed at McDonnell and the LAPD stems from a fundamental misunderstanding—or deliberate misrepresentation—of the department’s role in immigration enforcement. McDonnell is adamant on this point: the LAPD does not cooperate with ICE, and it has not for decades. The policy is not new; it dates back to 1979, long before the current political climate. “We’re very comfortable at LAPD telling anybody that we do not work with ICE on immigration issues,” he said. But he was careful to draw a distinction. The department does not enforce federal immigration law, but it does work with federal law enforcement partners like the FBI, DEA, ATF, and U.S. Marshals on matters of mutual concern. It also collaborates with Homeland Security Investigations on human trafficking cases. In other words, the LAPD draws a clear line between immigration enforcement—which it refuses to engage in—and legitimate federal partnerships that target serious crime. McDonnell’s message is simple: don’t confuse the two, and don’t pretend the department’s hands are tied when it comes to protecting everyone, regardless of status.
The bigger picture, McDonnell insists, is one of diminishing resources and rising stakes. The LAPD is “woefully understaffed,” with roughly 8,500 officers spread across a city of nearly four million people. And yet, he points out, crime is down in every category, and officer-involved shootings have dropped 53 percent this year. Those numbers matter, not just as statistics, but as proof that the department is doing more with less. Still, he rejects the notion that falling crime means the city no longer needs a robust police presence. “Well, how much crime is acceptable?” he asked. “I would say none if you’re going to be one of the victims, or a loved one be a victim.” It is a simple, human response to a policy debate that often gets lost in abstract numbers. Behind every statistic is a family, a neighborhood, a community trying to feel safe.
On the immigration front, McDonnell is resolute. He pushed back on the narrative that the LAPD helps ICE enforce federal immigration laws, pointing out that the department’s hands-off policy on immigration has been in place since 1979—decades before the current political battle. “We’re very comfortable at LAPD telling anybody that we do not work with ICE on immigration issues,” he said. That policy, he stressed, is a matter of community trust, not a reflection of political alignment. He drew a careful distinction between declining to help ICE with civil immigration enforcement and partnering with federal agencies like the FBI, DEA, ATF, and Marshals Service on criminal investigations. He also noted the department’s ongoing work with Homeland Security Investigations on human trafficking cases—work that requires collaboration, not the feigned moral purity of a campaign trail. McDonnell is making a nuanced argument: being a sanctuary city and fighting serious crime are not mutually exclusive, and suggesting otherwise is not just simplistic—it is dangerous.
Then there is the broader question of resources. McDonnell was candid about the LAPD being “woefully understaffed,” with roughly 8,500 officers trying to police a city of nearly four million people. And yet, despite those constraints, he says crime is down in every category, and officer-involved shootings have fallen 53 percent this year. Those are not the numbers of a department spinning out of control. They are the numbers of a department doing more with less, often under hostile scrutiny. McDonnell rejects the argument that falling crime means the city needs fewer cops. “Well, how much crime is acceptable?” he asked, turning the question back on critics. “I would say none if you’re going to be one of the victims, or a loved one be a victim.” It is a simple, human way of reframing a debate that often gets lost in statistics and ideology.
Immigration, of course, is the third rail of Los Angeles politics, and Raman has grabbed it with both hands. She has accused McDonnell of collaborating with ICE and of abandoning the city’s sanctuary values. But the chief was unequivocal: the LAPD does not work with ICE on immigration enforcement. That policy, he noted, has been in place since 1979—long before the current political moment. “We’re very comfortable at LAPD telling anybody that we do not work with ICE on immigration issues,” he said. But he was quick to draw a distinction between federal immigration enforcement and the department’s cooperative efforts with other federal agencies like the FBI, DEA, ATF, and Marshals Service, as well as Homeland Security Investigations on human trafficking cases. In other words, the LAPD is not an arm of ICE, but it is not going to stop investigating violent crime because someone waves an immigration badge. That nuance, McDonnell suggests, is often lost in the heat of political attacks.
Underlying all of this is the grim reality of a department stretched dangerously thin. McDonnell noted that the LAPD is “woefully understaffed” with roughly 8,500 officers, down from what is needed to properly police a city of Los Angeles’s size and complexity. And yet, he said, crime is down in every category, and officer-involved shootings have fallen by 53% this year. Those numbers are not a contradiction; they are a testament to the professionalism and restraint of a force working with its back against the wall. But McDonnell refuses to accept the argument that falling crime means the city needs fewer cops. “Well, how much crime is acceptable?” he asked. “I would say none if you’re going to be one of the victims, or a loved one be a victim.” It is a plainspoken, human answer to a statistical abstraction—a reminder that behind every number is a person, a family, a neighborhood.
A central point of contention has been the LAPD’s role, if any, in immigration enforcement. Raman has alleged that McDonnell cooperated with ICE and failed to protect undocumented immigrants. McDonnell was emphatic in rejecting that narrative. The department’s policy of non-cooperation with federal immigration authorities dates back to 1979, long before the current debate over sanctuary cities. “We’re very comfortable at LAPD telling anybody that we do not work with ICE on immigration issues,” he said. But he was also careful to distinguish between immigration enforcement and public safety collaborations. The LAPD partners with federal agencies like the FBI, DEA, ATF, and the U.S. Marshals on serious crime, and with Homeland Security Investigations on human trafficking. Those are not immigration operations; they are crime-fighting partnerships that protect Angelenos. McDonnell’s message is clear: the LAPD’s commitment to separating local policing from federal immigration enforcement is not a sign of weakness, and it should not be used as a political weapon against a department that follows a policy dating back to 1979.
McDonnell also addressed the broader context of crime and staffing. The LAPD is “woefully understaffed,” he admits, with only about 8,500 officers serving a city of nearly four million people. Yet, despite the strain, crime is down in every category, and officer-involved shootings have fallen by 53 percent this year. Those are not the numbers of a department that has lost control—they are the numbers of a department that is fighting to keep the city safe with fewer resources and more scrutiny. But McDonnell rejects the idea that falling crime means the city needs fewer police. “Well, how much crime is acceptable?” he asked, turning the question back on his critics. “I would say none if you’re going to be one of the victims, or a loved one be a victim.” It is a simple, human way of framing a complex issue, and it cuts through the ideological noise.
At the heart of the controversy is the question of immigration enforcement. Raman has accused McDonnell of helping ICE and of betraying the city’s sanctuary values. But McDonnell is firm: the LAPD does not work with ICE on immigration matters, and that has been the department’s policy since 1979—long before the current political battles. “We’re very comfortable at LAPD telling anybody that we do not work with ICE on immigration issues,” he said. He was careful, however, to draw a line between immigration enforcement and other federal partnerships. The LAPD works with the FBI, DEA, ATF, and U.S. Marshals on violent crime, and with Homeland Security Investigations on human trafficking. The distinction is simple: local police have no interest in being immigration agents, but they also cannot refuse to work with federal law enforcement on serious criminal matters. It is a nuanced position that often gets lost in campaign soundbites.
McDonnell also addressed the broader state of public safety in Los Angeles, and his message is more hopeful than the headlines might suggest. The department is “woefully understaffed,” with only about 8,500 officers—a number that has not kept pace with the city’s growth. Yet crime is down in every category, and officer-involved shootings have fallen by 53 percent this year. Still, McDonnell rejects the argument that falling crime means the city needs fewer police officers. “Well, how much crime is acceptable?” he asked, turning the question back on critics. “I would say none if you’re going to be one of the victims, or a loved one be a victim.” It is the kind of blunt, human reasoning that often gets lost in abstract policy debates, but it reflects the daily reality of a chief who has seen what happens when policing is stretched too thin.
When asked what the next mayor should do, McDonnell’s answer was not policy-heavy or ideological. It was practical. “Get to know the issues,” he said. He urged anyone seeking to lead Los Angeles to study policing firsthand, to take ride-alongs, to sit with officers and listen. “It’s easy to be able to make a judgment on something you don’t know about and be very sure of yourself,” he said. That simple piece of advice cuts to the heart of his frustration with Raman and, by extension, a political culture that too often treats law enforcement as a political punching bag. McDonnell also stressed that morale matters, especially when officers feel unsupported by the very leaders who expect them to run into danger. “We go out there every day and we adapt and overcome and move on, and the results, I think, speak for themselves,” he said. In the end, his message is less about defending the past than about demanding a more honest conversation about the future—one grounded in experience, not accusation.
Underlying this feud is a deeper policy debate about immigration and local police involvement in federal enforcement. McDonnell has repeatedly made clear that the LAPD’s position is not new: it has not worked with ICE on civil immigration matters since 1979. He is emphatic that the department does not help federal agents round up undocumented immigrants. “We’re very comfortable at LAPD telling anybody that we do not work with ICE on immigration issues,” he said. But he also drew a careful line, distinguishing between immigration enforcement and public safety. The LAPD will cooperate with federal agencies like the FBI, DEA, ATF, and the Marshals Service, and it works with Homeland Security Investigations on human trafficking cases. That nuance is often lost in the political firestorm, where slogans like “fascist” replace substantive debate. McDonnell’s point is simple: protecting the city does not mean absolving the department of its duty to pursue violent criminals, but it also does not mean turning officers into immigration agents. There is a difference, he argues, between enforcing federal immigration law and keeping the peace—and blurring those lines is dangerous.
At the heart of the clash is a deeper question about who gets to define public safety and who takes responsibility when things go wrong. McDonnell rejected the idea that lower crime rates make the city’s police force expendable. The LAPD is already “woefully understaffed,” he said, with roughly 8,500 officers handling a sprawling city of millions. And while crime has dropped across every category and officer-involved shootings are down 53 percent this year, he is quick to push back on the idea that the department can afford to lose anyone. “Well, how much crime is acceptable?” he asked. “I would say none if you’re going to be one of the victims, or a loved one be a victim.” It is the kind of question that cuts through abstract policy debates and lands directly on the human cost of public safety decisions. Behind the statistics are real people, real neighborhoods, and real officers who show up every day to face the consequences of a system that often expects them to solve every problem with limited resources.
That last point is critical. McDonnell was careful to address the persistent criticism that the LAPD is too cozy with federal immigration enforcement. He pushed back firmly, noting that the department’s policy against working with ICE on immigration issues dates back to 1979. “We’re very comfortable at LAPD telling anybody that we do not work with ICE on immigration issues,” he said. But he was also careful to distinguish between that policy and the department’s cooperation with other federal agencies. The LAPD works with the FBI, DEA, ATF, and U.S. Marshals, and partners with Homeland Security Investigations on human trafficking cases. That distinction matters, McDonnell suggested, because conflating immigration enforcement with serious criminal investigations only undermines public trust and public safety. He also pointed to the department’s staffing challenges, noting that the LAPD is “woefully understaffed” at around 8,500 officers. Yet even with those limitations, crime is down in every category, and officer-involved shootings have dropped 53% this year. Those numbers are not luck. They are the product of discipline, restraint, and an intentional effort to use force only when absolutely necessary.
Still, McDonnell rejected the argument that falling crime rates mean Los Angeles no longer needs a robust police presence. “Well, how much crime is acceptable?” he asked, framing the issue in deeply human terms. “I would say none if you’re going to be one of the victims, or a loved one be a victim.” That line cuts through the abstract policy debates and gets to the heart of what policing is actually about. It is not about optics or politics; it is about protecting real people, in real neighborhoods, from real harm. McDonnell also stressed that the LAPD’s immigration policy is not new or secretive. The department has not worked with ICE on immigration enforcement since 1979, long before Raman entered public life. He drew a sharp line between that policy and the LAPD’s work with federal partners like the FBI, DEA, ATF, and the U.S. Marshals on serious crimes, as well as its collaboration with Homeland Security Investigations on human trafficking. In other words, he said, there is a difference between not enforcing federal immigration law and refusing to cooperate with federal law enforcement on cases that threaten public safety.
McDonnell is also managing a department stretched thin. With about 8,500 officers, the LAPD is “woefully understaffed,” he says, yet crime is down in every category and officer-involved shootings have dropped 53% this year. For McDonnell, that is not a reason to rest, but proof that the department is doing more with less. He rejects the idea that falling crime means the city needs fewer officers. “Well, how much crime is acceptable?” he asked pointedly. “I would say none if you’re going to be one of the victims, or a loved one be a victim.” It is the kind of answer that resonates with frontline officers who feel constantly second-guessed by people who have never worn the badge.
McDonnell also addressed the persistent myth that the LAPD is doing ICE’s bidding. The department’s policy against immigration enforcement, he noted, dates back to 1979—long before the current political climate. “We’re very comfortable at LAPD telling anybody that we do not work with ICE on immigration issues,” he said. But he was careful to distinguish that from the department’s work with federal partners like the FBI, DEA, ATF, and U.S. Marshals—agencies that do not have immigration enforcement as their primary mission. He also highlighted the LAPD’s cooperation with Homeland Security Investigations on human trafficking cases. In other words, there is a world of difference between refusing to be an arm of ICE and refusing to cooperate with federal law enforcement on serious crimes. McDonnell is trying to draw that line clearly, even as political opponents blur it.
On staffing and crime, McDonnell was equally direct. The department is “woefully understaffed” with roughly 8,500 officers, he said, and yet crime is down in every category and officer-involved shootings have fallen 53% this year. That paradox—fewer officers, lower crime—might seem like an argument for shrinking the force. McDonnell disagrees. “Well, how much crime is acceptable?” he asked. “I would say none if you’re going to be one of the victims, or a loved one be a victim.” It is a deeply human response to a data-driven debate, a reminder that behind every statistic is a person whose safety depends on someone showing up. He is also quick to correct the record when it comes to immigration. The LAPD’s policy against engaging in civil immigration enforcement is not a new accommodation for the current political moment—it dates back to 1979. McDonnell is unequivocal: “We’re very comfortable at LAPD telling anybody that we do not work with ICE on immigration issues.” But he is equally quick to distinguish that from refusing to work with federal partners on serious crime, including the FBI, DEA, ATF, and Homeland Security Investigations. There is a difference, he insists, between protecting the public from violent crime and enforcing civil immigration law.
The chief also took the opportunity to correct a persistent misconception about how the LAPD handles immigration—and to defend a policy that has been in place for nearly half a century. “We’re very comfortable at LAPD telling anybody that we do not work with ICE on immigration issues,” he said. That is not a new position; it dates back to 1979. But he was careful to distinguish between immigration enforcement and the department’s cooperative work with federal agencies on serious crimes. The LAPD partners with the FBI, the DEA, the ATF, and the U.S. Marshals on a range of investigations, and works with Homeland Security Investigations on human trafficking cases. The distinction matters, McDonnell argued: the department is not in the business of rounding up undocumented immigrants, but it is absolutely in the business of keeping the city safe from violent crime. It is a nuanced position in a debate that often lacks nuance, and McDonnell clearly wants voters to understand it before they head to the polls.
Beyond the political firestorm, McDonnell is also making a practical case for why Los Angeles needs to take a long, hard look at its priorities. The LAPD is, in his words, “woefully understaffed,” with only about 8,500 officers serving a city of nearly four million people. Yet the results, he argues, speak for themselves: crime is down in every category, and officer-involved shootings have fallen by 53% this year. To those who say falling crime is proof that the city needs fewer cops, McDonnell has a simple, devastating question: “Well, how much crime is acceptable?” He paused, then added: “I would say none if you’re going to be one of the victims, or a loved one be a victim.” It is a human answer to a statistical argument, and it cuts to the heart of the debate. Public safety is not an abstraction. It is measured in the safety of real people, in neighborhoods across the city, and the person making that argument today might feel differently when it is their door being kicked in.
McDonnell is equally firm when it comes to the accusation that the LAPD is doing the federal government’s dirty work on immigration. He pushed back forcefully, explaining that the department’s policy against immigration enforcement dates back to 1979, long before this current political fight. “We’re very comfortable at LAPD telling anybody that we do not work with ICE on immigration issues,” he said. But he also drew a clear line between declining to enforce civil immigration law and working with federal law enforcement partners on serious crimes. The LAPD, he noted, works closely with the FBI, the DEA, the ATF, the U.S. Marshals Service, and Homeland Security Investigations—particularly when it comes to human trafficking and other cross-border crimes. The distinction is crucial: the department’s sanctuary policy is not about protecting criminals; it is about building trust with immigrant communities, who should feel safe reporting crimes without fear of deportation. That policy has been on the books since 1979, and McDonnell made clear it is not up for debate.
McDonnell also addressed the broader narrative about crime and policing in Los Angeles. The department is, by his own admission, “woefully understaffed,” with about 8,500 officers trying to protect a city of nearly four million people. Yet he points out that crime is down in every category, and officer-involved shootings have fallen 53% this year. Those numbers, he argues, are not an argument for defunding or shrinking the force—they are proof that the department is doing more with less. “Well, how much crime is acceptable?” he asked, pushing back against the idea that reduced crime means fewer officers are needed. “I would say none if you’re going to be one of the victims, or a loved one be a victim.” It is a powerful framing, one that cuts through statistics to the human cost of violence. Behind every data point is a family forever changed, and McDonnell refuses to let numbers obscure that truth.
On the immigration issue, McDonnell is equally direct. He pushed back against the narrative that the LAPD is helping ICE enforce federal immigration law, pointing out that the department’s policy of non-involvement with immigration enforcement dates back to 1979, long before the current political climate. “We’re very comfortable at LAPD telling anybody that we do not work with ICE on immigration issues,” he said. But he was careful to draw the line there, noting that the department does cooperate with federal law enforcement partners like the FBI, DEA, ATF, and U.S. Marshals, as well as Homeland Security Investigations on human trafficking cases. For McDonnell, this distinction matters. The LAPD is not in the business of rounding up undocumented people, but it is also not going to stand down when it comes to fighting violent crime and keeping Angelenos safe. He also pushed back on the idea that the department is somehow secretly doing ICE’s bidding, pointing out that the city’s policy against immigration enforcement dates back to 1979—long before he took office.
McDonnell is also carrying the weight of a department that is running on fumes. With roughly 8,500 officers, the LAPD is “woefully understaffed,” he admitted, even as crime rates continue to fall across every major category. Officer-involved shootings are down 53% this year, a statistic he cites not as a cause for celebration, but as evidence that the department is doing more with less—and doing it responsibly. When asked about the argument that falling crime means the city needs fewer police, McDonnell pushed back with the kind of simple, human logic that often gets lost in political debates: “Well, how much crime is acceptable? I would say none if you’re going to be one of the victims, or a loved one be a victim.” It is a reminder that behind the statistics and policy debates are real people, real neighborhoods, and real lives.
McDonnell also wanted to correct the record on immigration. The LAPD, he said, has not worked with ICE on immigration enforcement since 1979—long before the current controversy. “We’re very comfortable at LAPD telling anybody that we do not work with ICE on immigration issues,” he said. That is not a new position, nor is it a secret. What the department does do, he explained, is work alongside federal law enforcement partners like the FBI, the DEA, the ATF, and the U.S. Marshals on serious crime, and with Homeland Security Investigations on human trafficking cases. There is a difference, McDonnell stressed, between cooperating on criminal investigations and acting as an immigration enforcement agency. It is a distinction that sometimes gets lost in the heated rhetoric of a political campaign, where nuance is often sacrificed for soundbites. But for McDonnell, it is not a talking point—it is a decades-old policy that keeps local police focused on local crime while maintaining trust with immigrant communities.
Beyond the political firestorm, McDonnell wants the next mayor to understand the reality of running a police department under pressure. He acknowledged that the LAPD is “woefully understaffed,” with roughly 8,500 officers serving a city of nearly four million people. Yet he pushed back on the notion that declining crime rates mean the city needs fewer cops. “Well, how much crime is acceptable?” he asked. “I would say none if you’re going to be one of the victims, or a loved one be a victim.” His point is a reminder that statistics represent real people, real neighborhoods, and real trauma. And while crime has dropped in every category this year, with officer-involved shootings down 53 percent, McDonnell remains wary of celebrating. Every number, after all, is a life.
McDonnell’s message is not just for Raman—it is for anyone who wants to lead Los Angeles. His advice is simple: stop judging from a distance. “Get to know the issues,” he urged. Take ride-alongs. Sit with officers. Learn what they face before deciding they are the enemy. He worries that public discourse around policing has become dangerously shallow, driven by sound bites and social media outrage rather than facts and lived experience. He also pushed back against the idea that the LAPD is doing the work of federal immigration agents. The department’s refusal to enforce immigration laws dates back to 1979, he said, and it remains a core part of its identity. But he drew a careful line between that policy and cooperation with federal law enforcement on serious crimes, including human trafficking investigations with Homeland Security Investigations. In other words, the LAPD is not in the business of rounding people up for ICE—but it is in the business of keeping communities safe.
McDonnell also addressed the state of crime in Los Angeles, pushing back against the narrative that declining crime numbers mean the city can afford to shrink its police force. He pointed out that the LAPD is “woefully understaffed” with only 8,500 officers, even as crime has dropped across every category and officer-involved shootings have fallen by 53 percent this year. That progress, he argued, is not a reason to reduce police presence—it is a reason to maintain it. “Well, how much crime is acceptable?” he asked, directly challenging the logic that fewer crimes should automatically mean fewer cops. “I would say none if you’re going to be one of the victims, or a loved one be a victim.” It is a simple, human framing that cuts through the abstract numbers, reminding Angelenos that every statistic represents a person, a family, a life upended.
For anyone who wants to lead Los Angeles, McDonnell has a simple piece of advice: do your homework. He urged candidates to study policing firsthand, to go on ride-alongs, and to actually listen to the officers who answer the city’s calls every day. “It’s easy to be able to make a judgment on something you don’t know about and be very sure of yourself,” he said. His counsel to the next mayor is straightforward: “Get to know the issues.” He is not asking for sympathy or blind support—he is asking for understanding. And he warns that morale suffers when officers feel abandoned by the very leaders who are supposed to support them, especially when the department is already stretched thin. With roughly 8,500 officers on the force, McDonnell acknowledges the LAPD is “woefully understaffed,” yet he still points to falling crime across every category and a 53% drop in officer-involved shootings this year. Those are not the numbers of a department spiraling out of control; they are the numbers of a department doing its job under impossible pressure.
McDonnell is also deeply frustrated by the false equivalence between federal immigration enforcement and local policing. He pushed back hard on the claim that the LAPD helps ICE enforce immigration laws, explaining that the department’s non-involvement in immigration enforcement has been official policy since 1979. “We’re very comfortable at LAPD telling anybody that we do not work with ICE on immigration issues,” he said. But he drew a careful distinction: refusing to be an arm of federal immigration enforcement does not mean the department refuses to work with federal law enforcement on serious crimes. The LAPD partners with the FBI, the DEA, the ATF, the U.S. Marshals, and Homeland Security Investigations, particularly on human trafficking cases. These are not contradictory positions; they are the fabric of modern policing in a diverse city. McDonnell wants the public to understand that nuance, even as political opponents try to paint it as either/or.
On the broader question of crime and safety, McDonnell was equally direct. He acknowledged the department is “woefully understaffed,” operating with roughly 8,500 officers, but pointed to results that have defied national trends: crime down in every category, officer-involved shootings down 53 percent this year. Those numbers should settle the debate, but McDonnell knows they won’t. When asked about the argument that falling crime means the city needs fewer police officers, he pushed back with a simple question: “How much crime is acceptable?” He answered it himself: “I would say none if you’re going to be one of the victims, or a loved one be a victim.” It is a powerful reminder that behind the statistics are real people, real neighborhoods, and real trauma—and that no amount of political posturing changes the fact that Angelenos call the LAPD when everything else goes wrong.
McDonnell is also pushing back on the narrative that the LAPD is doing ICE’s dirty work. He points out that the department’s policy of not enforcing federal immigration laws dates back to 1979, long before the current political battles. “We’re very comfortable at LAPD telling anybody that we do not work with ICE on immigration issues,” he said, drawing a clear line between the department’s own policies and its partnerships with other federal agencies like the FBI, DEA, ATF, and Marshals Service. He also noted the LAPD works with Homeland Security Investigations on human trafficking cases—a distinction his critics often blur. For McDonnell, this is not about being soft or tough on immigration; it is about following the law and maintaining community trust. He points to the city’s falling crime rate and a 53% drop in officer-involved shootings this year as evidence that the approach is working. Still, he acknowledged the department is “woefully understaffed” with roughly 8,500 officers. And when asked whether declining crime means the city needs fewer cops, he pushed back with a simple, devastating question: “Well, how much crime is acceptable? I would say none if you’re going to be one of the victims, or a loved one be a victim.”
At the heart of McDonnell’s pushback is a deeper frustration with how immigration enforcement has been mischaracterized. He is adamant that the LAPD does not assist ICE in enforcing federal immigration laws—a policy that has been on the books since 1979, long before the current controversy. “We’re very comfortable at LAPD telling anybody that we do not work with ICE on immigration issues,” he said, drawing a clear line between his department’s stance and the claims of his critics. But he also clarified the nuance: while the LAPD does not participate in civil immigration enforcement, it does work with federal partners like the FBI, DEA, ATF, and Marshals on serious crime, and with Homeland Security Investigations on human trafficking. In other words, the department is not isolated from federal law enforcement, but it draws a bright line when it comes to immigration. It is a policy that dates back to 1979, long before Raman entered the political scene, and McDonnell is proud of it.
He also addressed the persistent narrative that the LAPD is overstaffed or overly aggressive. The reality, he says, is that the department is “woefully understaffed” with roughly 8,500 officers, even as crime has fallen in every category and officer-involved shootings are down 53 percent this year. Those numbers might seem contradictory to those who want to defund or downsize the police, but McDonnell has a simple answer for that: crime statistics don’t tell the whole story. “How much crime is acceptable?” he asked. “I would say none if you’re going to be one of the victims, or a loved one be a victim.” It is a reminder that behind every statistic is a person, and that public safety cannot be reduced to a chart in a campaign speech. The department may be understaffed and overstretched, but McDonnell insists the results speak for themselves.
But for all the policy debates, McDonnell is most concerned about the human cost of the attacks he and his officers have endured. He describes scenes of absolute chaos: officers pelted with rocks, chunks of curb, bolts, batteries, and frozen water bottles. Commercial-grade fireworks—which he says can be lethal—were hurled at police lines. Molotov cocktails were thrown. ATVs were driven directly into skirmish lines. The situation, he says, could easily have turned into a bloodbath. “They were being assaulted by commercial-grade fireworks, which can kill you. Those can be lethal,” McDonnell explained. The decision to deploy tear gas, he insists, was not an act of aggression but one of survival. “We were in a position where we had no choice but to defend ourselves, and we always try and use the least amount of force possible,” he said. “So, in effect, by doing that, we saved lives.”
For McDonnell, what happened on the streets of Los Angeles was not abstract policy; it was an attack on the men and women who put their lives on the line every day. He described a nightmarish arsenal of commercial-grade fireworks capable of killing, Molotov cocktails, ATVs ramming police lines, and a relentless barrage of rocks, pieces of curb, bolts, batteries, and frozen water bottles. Officers, he said, were forced to use tear gas not as a first resort, but as a last-ditch effort to avoid something far worse. “They were being assaulted by commercial-grade fireworks, which can kill you. Those can be lethal,” McDonnell said. “We were in a position where we had no choice but to defend ourselves, and we always try and use the least amount of force possible.” For McDonnell, the calculus was simple: use tear gas to keep a volatile situation from becoming a deadly one. “So, in effect, by doing that, we saved lives,” he said. It is a message he believes is lost in the noise of political attacks, but one he refuses to stop repeating.
McDonnell also framed the events in Los Angeles as part of a larger national moment. He knows that what happens in his city is watched far beyond its borders. “The eyes of the world are on Los Angeles. What we do here matters,” he said. That sense of responsibility weighed heavily on him during the June riots. He knew that a single deadly encounter—one officer pushed too far, one protester crossing a line—could ignite a firestorm with national consequences. In that context, the LAPD’s decision to deploy tear gas was not an act of aggression but one of restraint, a calculated effort to prevent a chaotic situation from becoming a massacre. “We were in a position where we had no choice but to defend ourselves, and we always try and use the least amount of force possible,” McDonnell said. The violence officers faced was not theoretical. He described a terrifying arsenal: commercial-grade fireworks capable of killing, Molotov cocktails, ATVs driving into police lines, and a relentless hail of rocks, curb pieces, bolts, batteries, and frozen water bottles. “They were being assaulted by commercial-grade fireworks, which can kill you,” he said. “Those can be lethal.” In his telling, the decision to deploy tear gas was not an act of aggression but one of restraint—a way to de-escalate before officers were forced to use deadly force. “So, in effect, by doing that, we saved lives,” he said. It is a framing that rarely makes it into the headlines, but McDonnell insists it is the truth.
This is bigger than one night in Los Angeles. McDonnell knows that the city is a global stage, and what happens there ripples across the country. “The eyes of the world are on Los Angeles. What we do here matters,” he said. That sense of national significance is part of why he is so insistent on correcting what he sees as misinformation. If a major American city’s police department is labeled “fascist” by a credible candidate for mayor, he argues, the damage goes far beyond one election. It undermines the very idea of public trust and makes the job of every officer harder. That is why, when asked what advice he would give the city’s next mayor, McDonnell did not hesitate: get to know the issues firsthand. He urged anyone seeking to lead Los Angeles to study policing up close, go on ride-alongs, and talk to the officers who walk the same streets every day. “It’s easy to be able to make a judgment on something you don’t know about and be very sure of yourself,” he said. “Get to know the issues.”
One of the most incendiary charges leveled at McDonnell is that the LAPD assists ICE in immigration enforcement. Raman has suggested that the department is complicit in the deportation machine, and she has promised to remove McDonnell for not doing more to block federal agents. But McDonnell flatly rejects that narrative, pointing to a city policy that has stood for nearly half a century. “We’re very comfortable at LAPD telling anybody that we do not work with ICE on immigration issues,” he said. That policy, he explained, dates back to 1979—long before the current political climate. He was careful, however, to distinguish between immigration enforcement and the department’s legitimate partnerships with other federal agencies. The LAPD works with the FBI, the DEA, the ATF, and the U.S. Marshals, as well as with Homeland Security Investigations on human trafficking cases. The line, for McDonnell, is clear: local police are not immigration agents, but they are still law enforcement officers who rely on federal partnerships to keep the city safe.
McDonnell also took the opportunity to address the broader context of crime and public safety in Los Angeles. He acknowledged that the department is “woefully understaffed,” with roughly 8,500 officers on the force—a number that has not kept pace with the city’s needs. Yet he pointed to a remarkable statistic: crime is down in every category, and officer-involved shootings have fallen 53% this year. Those numbers, he argued, are not accidental. They are the result of discipline, training, and an unwavering commitment to de-escalation. But when asked if falling crime means the city needs fewer police officers, McDonnell pushed back with a question that cuts through the abstraction: “Well, how much crime is acceptable?” He continued, “I would say none if you’re going to be one of the victims, or a loved one be a victim.” It is a reminder that behind every statistic is a person, and that numbers alone cannot capture the human cost of violence.
McDonnell also addressed the persistent criticism that the LAPD helps federal immigration authorities, a claim he flatly rejects. The department’s policy of not cooperating with ICE on civil immigration enforcement dates back to 1979, long before the current national debate over the border. “We’re very comfortable at LAPD telling anybody that we do not work with ICE on immigration issues,” he said. But he drew a clear line between that policy and the department’s partnerships with federal agencies like the FBI, DEA, ATF, and the Marshals Service, as well as its work with Homeland Security Investigations on human trafficking. He is careful to draw that distinction because he knows critics often blur the lines between federal and local authority. Still, he acknowledged that the LAPD is “woefully understaffed,” with only about 8,500 officers for a city of nearly four million people. Yet even with those staffing challenges, he pointed to a 53% drop in officer-involved shootings this year and declines in nearly every crime category—statistics that complicate the narrative of a department careening out of control.
McDonnell is not one to rest on those numbers, though. When asked whether falling crime means the city needs fewer officers, he pushed back with a question of his own: “How much crime is acceptable?” He added, “I would say none if you’re going to be one of the victims, or a loved one be a victim.” It is a stark reminder that behind the statistics are real people, real neighborhoods, and real lives. The chief’s frustration is not just with political opponents; it is with a broader public discourse that often treats crime and policing as abstract concepts. He urged anyone who wants to lead Los Angeles to do their homework: study policing firsthand, take ride-alongs, talk to officers on the beat. “It’s easy to be able to make a judgment on something you don’t know about and be very sure of yourself,” he said. His advice is simple but profound: “Get to know the issues.”
McDonnell also sought to set the record straight on immigration. The LAPD’s policy of not cooperating with federal immigration enforcement is not new, he said—it dates back to 1979. “We’re very comfortable at LAPD telling anybody that we do not work with ICE on immigration issues,” he said. But he drew a clear line between that policy and the department’s collaboration with other federal agencies on serious crime, including human trafficking. He acknowledged the department is “woefully understaffed” at around 8,500 officers, but pointed to falling crime in every category and a 53% drop in officer-involved shootings this year as evidence of progress. When pressed on whether reduced crime means fewer cops, he pushed back with a question that cuts to the heart of the matter: “Well, how much crime is acceptable? I would say none if you’re going to be one of the victims, or a loved one be a victim.” It is a reminder that behind every statistic is a person, and behind every police response, a family waiting for someone to come home.
For McDonnell, the path forward is not about slogans or soundbites. It is about understanding the reality of the job. He has a blunt message for anyone who wants to lead Los Angeles: get out of your comfort zone, ride along with officers, sit in the briefing rooms, and listen. “It’s easy to be able to make a judgment on something you don’t know about and be very sure of yourself,” he said. His advice to political hopefuls is simple: “Get to know the issues.” He warns that morale suffers when officers feel abandoned by the people they protect—especially when the department is already woefully understaffed at around 8,500 officers. And yet, despite the criticism, the attacks, and the impossible circumstances, McDonnell insists the LAPD remains committed. “We go out there every day and we adapt and overcome and move on, and the results, I think, speak for themselves,” he said. For McDonnell, the truth of that night is not found in political spin or social media outrage. It is found in the 52 injured officers, the burned-out streets, and the officers who kept their composure under fire. It is found, he says, in the lives that were saved because the department refused to let chaos win.
