Pinkertons of Prey

 I think we're starting to notice a pattern here. First, we see a hospital report or cell-phone footage of ICE agents tackling a protester—or inflicting violence or tear gas on a random civilian who happened to be in the vicinity at the wrong time. There is a wholly justified outcry from the public. 

And so, ICE starts to blame the victim. They say: "Oh, they rammed our vehicle; oh, they were throwing stones; oh, they were impeding our activities; oh, we were afraid for our safety (even though we are heavily armed, and they are not)."

Federal agents charge someone with felony assault because their finger got scratched, say, when they were hurling an unarmed civilian to the ground. They open fire on someone or punch them in the face, then they say: I was scared for my life. 

(Take their recent efforts to portray a sandwich-to-the-chest as a grave threat—which a D.C. jury wasn't buying. 

One is reminded of the scene in William Gaddis's A Frolic of His Own (his satire on the legal profession) when a particularly litigious character starts to claim medical damages because another character gestured emphatically at his chest.)

In short, ICE—like any group of schoolyard bullies—knows how to first pick a fight—and then cry, run to teacher, and play the victim when it doesn't go their way. 

Early last month, for instance, a Chicago woman was shot in an encounter with ICE agents. The officers claimed afterward: oh, she started the altercation. She rammed our vehicle. 

I cast doubt on that narrative even at the time. But in the days that followed, the ICE officers' version of events seemed to collapse even further. 

The woman says that what actually happened is that the federal agent steered his car into hers after taunting her, and then opened fire—nearly killing her. All without any provocation or threat to his safety. And she says she has the dash-cam footage to verify her account. 

Pretty much every time ICE is accused of using excessive force, it comes up with a similar story: "they attacked us first." And every time, the story seems to fall apart on closer examination. 

Gregory Bovino, for instance—the face of Trump's Chicago operation—initially accused protesters of hurling a rock at him and sparking a confrontation. That—he claimed—was the reason he had deployed tear gas against Chicago residents. 

A federal judge yesterday, though, pointed out that this claim was belied by the video evidence, and Bovino was therefore forced to retract it. 

"Defendant Bovino admitted that he lied," the judge reportedly said. "He admitted that he lied about whether a rock hit him before he deployed tear gas in Little Village."

The lawyer for plaintiffs in the case reportedly summarized the pattern we are seeing in every one of these cases: ICE agents "are inciting violence, and then they are using the violence that they have created to justify even more violence."

This is highly reminiscent of another famous moment from Chicago history in which armed agents of the state opened fire on protesters: namely, the Haymarket riots. 

And indeed—the radical poet Harry Alan Potamkin's verses about the Haymarket affair seem very apt to the situation in Chicago today—when federal agents again rain bullets or tear gas on defenseless civilians, and then have the temerity to turn around and blame the victims: 

Don now the robe and the periwig,

Master of provocation, Pinkerton of prey, [...]

Slander the murdered, libel the dead,

burden your guilt on the innocent dead,

sort out the men who had asked for an hour of sun,

call them "barbarians," you who have murdered,

bind them, imprison men of the people, 

send to the gallows, remember that May!