If Gates hangs on, he’ll be forced to make sweeping changes in his 8,300-member department. Critics say the King tape only confirms what Los Angeles blacks and Hispanics have long alleged - that their police force is violent and abusive. The city paid out $8.1 million in damages last year to victims of excessive force. A local watchdog agency, the Police Misconduct Lawyer Referral Service, logged more than 600 complaints against L.A. cops in 1990 and 127 in just the first two months of this year. Civil-rights advocates say the numbers don’t tell the whole story. “For every complaint that’s filed, there’s at least five or more that aren’t,” says attorney Geraldine Green, former president of the city’s Civil Service Commission. Others say the department’s strong-arm style begins with Gates, who has had a contentious relationship with minorities during his 13-year tenure. “He sets the tone of arrogance and disrespect that is read as an invitation to violence by the troops below,” says UCLA law professor Henry W. McGee Jr.
The King assault has sparked a broader debate about out-of-control cops. Attorney General Richard Thornburgh announced last week that the Justice Department will review the nearly 15,000 complaints of police brutality filed with the federal government over the last six years. The probe will look for racial or geographic patterns to the violence. No centralized statistics exist, but law-enforcement professionals and black officials are convinced that the problem is getting worse. “There is a culture of violence that has swept the nation’s police forces,” said Rep. John Conyers, a member of the Congressional Black Caucus who asked for the federal review. A majority of Americans agree. A NEWSWEEK Poll (box) shows that 62 percent believe that minority groups suffer at the hands of police.
Analysts say police brutality has its roots in racism, poor training, slack departmental discipline and fraternal traditions that encourage officers to look the other way when their colleagues turn violent. Others warn that pressure for results in the drug war has fallen unfairly on the shoulders of its infantry soldier, the cop on the street. When frustration builds, violence can be the result. “We’re asking police to solve problems that society itself has been unable or unwilling to tackle,” says Kenneth Moran, a professor at the John Jay College of Criminal Justice in New York.
The pressures are particularly acute in sprawling Los Angeles. A tide of drugs and gang violence has stretched a thin force to the seams. With 8,300 officers for 3.5 million residents, L.A. has the smallest ratio of cops to residents of any major American city. Racial disparities compound the problem. The force is dominated by whites in a city with large minority populations. While L.A. is 40 percent Hispanic, only 22 percent of its officers are Latino. Critics say the department’s “Joe Friday” tradition of authoritarian detachment is out of sync with other cities, where officials are trying to strengthen bonds between police and their communities. They argue that the result is a recipe for the kind of rampage captured on the King videotape. “People find it hard to believe that the ones that are sworn to serve and protect are capable of what happened to King,” says Green.
Tensions over the King incident have deepened the wedge of mistrust between police and minorities. Many cops feel that they themselves have been victimized. “I’m getting a lot more hard looks out there. People are challenging us more,” says Sgt. Phil Jackson. At roll call in tough south-central L.A. last Friday night, the 19-year veteran warned his officers not to second-guess themselves. “Don’t be afraid to use your baton or Taser or whatever you need to protect yourself. You can’t be afraid to do what you have to do out there,” he said. He also urged them to ask for help if they found themselves in a tense spot. “If you’ve got somebody out there who’s hassling you, get ahold of us,” he said. “Count to 10, 20, 30 and try to do the best you can.”
Cruising in his patrol car later that night, Jackson found that his cops were quick to take him up on the offer. Routine police calls turned into paranoid dramas as residents poured into the street to monitor every move by officers. Concerned about being contradicted by hostile civilian witnesses, anxious cops called in extra patrol cars for backup. As 18 officers sorted out a drunken domestic dispute that had spilled onto a lawn, four women shouted from a balcony, “I’ve got my video camera out. I’ve got my video camera out.” The taunt was an empty one - there was no camera - but it heightened the sense of fishbowl imprisonment felt by I south-central cops. “It’s ridiculous. You can’t even write a ticket anymore,” one complained.
Gates’s tough style heightens the ill will. Last week he defended his record by telling reporters that he had “lots of friends in the black community.” When the department was under fire for the choke-hold deaths of blacks several years ago, he blamed the victims for not having veins in their necks “like normal people.” Gates has been a cop for 42 of his 64 years, and associates describe him as an aloof administrator driven by an iron personal discipline. Hospitalized for pneumonia once, he was caught doing push-ups on the floor of his room. In 1985, when his drug-abusing son was jailed for robbing a pharmacy, Gates said, “He’ll get no help from me.”
Gates will not be easy to dislodge. He serves at the pleasure of a five-member police board, which can fire him only if it demonstrates “good and significant cause” to the city’s Board of Civil Service Commissioners. The system is common in conservative sun-belt cities, where early century reformers tried to insulate public officials from political abuses encountered in older Eastern cities. It may produce a less corrupt police department, but also one insensitive to minority concerns. “President Bush has more control over Colin Powell than Tom Bradley has over Daryl Gates,” complains McGee.
Analysts say police brutality is likely to go unchecked until top commanders like Gates convey the unequivocal message that it will not be tolerated. But departments routinely fail to eliminate “problem” police before they do serious harm. Briseno, one of the four indicted in the King beating, was suspended without pay for two months in 1987 after he kicked and struck a handcuffed man. While many cities take allegations of excessive force seriously, bringing cops to justice can be difficult. Officers dependent on colleagues for their safety are notoriously reluctant to cooperate in criminal investigations. And complainants in brutality cases often have less than pristine backgrounds (King had been paroled on a robbery charge), making juries reluctant to I find in their favor. “The typical victim of police brutality is someone who is considered undesirable by society,” says John Jay College professor Robert Panzarella. Videotaped evidence doesn’t guarantee a conviction. Cameras captured a 1988 riot at Tompkins Square Park in New York, generating 121 complaints of police violence, six indictments - but no convictions. Los Angeles jurors may decide differently. Even if they do, it will be a long time before some there feel safe - from the police who took an oath to serve and protect them.
POLICE AND FORCE Nearly half of Americans say Gates should leave office, and most think minorities are commonly victims of police brutality.
From what you have seen or heard about the recent videotaped incident of police brutality in Los Angeles, should Police Chief Daryl Gates remain in office?
45% No; 32% Yes
How much police brutality against members of minority groups do you think there is around the country these days?
21% A lot; 21% Little; 41% Considerable; 10% Very little
From the NEWSWEEK Poll of March 14-15, 1991
