Racism, Raids, and Public Health

Immigration enforcement and racial injustice in the United States have long been intertwined with systemic public health crises. In 1954, the federal government launched Operation Wetback, a mass deportation campaign targeting Mexican immigrants. In 2025, Los Angeles faces renewed unrest, reminiscent of earlier LA riots, ignited by racialized state violence and unequal treatment. These events, though decades apart, share troubling similarities, starting with the raids—rooted in the criminalization of Brown and Black communities and the neglect of their fundamental health and human rights.

What Was Operation Wetback?

Operation Wetback was initiated in June 1954 by the Eisenhower administration and executed by the Immigration and Naturalization Service (INS). It aimed to crack down on the perceived influx of undocumented Mexican laborers, particularly after issues arising from the Bracero Program, which had temporarily allowed Mexican workers into the U.S. during labor shortages as a result from WWII. However, you need to understand that U.S. citizens who were indeed available to work, were denied these jobs. Companies saw this as an opportunity to have cheap laborers. Though the Bracero Program was initially meant to fill labor shortages, issues that arose from the program, included but not limited to:

Worker Exploitation. Low wages, wage theft, and no legal recourse
Poor Working and Living Conditions. Overcrowded and unsanitary housing with zero healthcare
Abuse and Discrimination. Racism, verbal and physical abuse, lack of protection of labor laws, working in hazardous conditions
Undocumented Migration. The program created the pipeline for illegal immigration
Family Separation. Employees were men only. Families were not allowed to come, fracturing support systems

The Bracero Program was developed entirely by the U.S. government as a strategic effort to exploit Mexican labor for cheap wages. It was ultimately terminated through discriminatory and unjust actions rooted in racism—cementing harmful stereotypes and perpetuating false narratives about the Mexican community that still linger today. Operation Wetback led to the arrest and deportation of over 1 million people, many of whom were U.S. citizens or legal residents. Raids occurred in public spaces, neighborhoods, and job sites. Families were separated, and deportees were often dropped in remote parts of Mexico without supplies, food, or shelter.

“Operation Wetback” was named using a racist slur based on the stereotype that undocumented Mexican immigrants swam the Rio Grande to enter the U.S. The term dehumanized Mexicans and framed them as criminals, reflecting how normalized anti-Mexican sentiment was in mid-20th century America, despite the Bracero Act, where the US government allowed non-US-citizens to gain employment in the US during time of war.

To this day, the term continues to inflict harm and should be avoided in favor of more accurate, respectful language when discussing immigration and policy history.

The Re-ignition of the LA Riots

Fast forward to 2025, and Los Angeles (and other US cities) is once again erupting in racial tension and protest. The most recent spark: a viral video of federal immigration officers violently detaining a young Latino man outside a grocery store.

Unlike the 1992 LA Uprising, which centered on the brutal beating of Rodney King, the 2025 unrest is defined by the convergence of Black and Brown struggles. Activists are now marching together under banners like “No Justice, No Health” and “Immigration Is a Public Health Issue.” Their demands include: ending police militarization, protecting immigrant communities, and addressing inequities in health, housing, and education.

Both Operation Wetback and the 2025 LA Riots expose a recurring pattern: when communities of color are seen as threats, the government responds with militarized force—not care. In 1954, mass deportations were justified as national defense. In 2025, surveillance, police drones, and ICE raids are again framed as tools for “public safety,” despite overwhelming evidence of their harm to everyday residents.

In both eras, Black and Brown people are treated as disposable—their rights denied, their health disregarded, and their lives disrupted in the name of law and order.

Public Health Consequences for Brown and Black Communities

Mass deportations, police violence, and civil unrest leave behind long-lasting public health consequences. During Operation Wetback, Mexican families were driven into hiding. Many stopped seeking healthcare for fear of arrest or deportation. Children were left behind, traumatized, and abandoned by a system that claimed to protect American values.

In 2025, those fears are back. Undocumented families avoid hospitals—even when sick—fearing ICE presence. In protest zones, ambulances can’t reach patients due to curfews or police barricades. Tear gas and rubber bullets not only injure bodies but escalate chronic illnesses like asthma and anxiety—already disproportionately high in communities of color.

Research shows that Black and Latino communities are more likely to:

Live near polluted areas
Lack access to mental health care
Experience medical racism
Be uninsured or underinsured
Suffer from higher rates of diabetes, hypertension, and maternal mortality

The effects of COVID-19 only deepened these inequalities. And the compounded trauma of 2025’s violence continues to widen the health gap.

Public Safety or Public Harm?

When officials say they are protecting the public, we must always ask: which public? In both 1954 and 2025, “safety” has often meant protection of property, borders, and whiteness—not the safety of families, children, or communities, especially Brown and Black communities.

Public safety must be redefined to center public health—not enforcement. This means shifting from punishment to prevention. We must advocate for policymakers to consider:

Instead of ICE raids: Elevate Black Health (EBH) suggests mobile health clinics and legal aid centers
Instead of riot police: EBH suggests trauma counselors and harm-reduction specialists
Instead of jails: EBH suggests housing, food access, and addiction services

What True Health Equity Looks Like

To move forward, our country must learn from history and make bold, sustained investments in health equity. This includes:

Universal Healthcare Access: Ensure everyone—regardless of immigration status—can see a doctor without fear
Mental Health Services in Schools and Communities: Especially for youth affected by violence or displacement
Community-Led Public Safety: Replace punitive policing with programs run by trusted local leaders
Environmental Health Reforms: Clean air, water, and greenspace in communities near highways and factories
Data Transparency: Collect disaggregated health data by race, ethnicity, and citizenship status to expose disparities and target solutions

Operation Wetback and the 2025 LA Riots are not just episodes of crisis; they are windows into a system that has failed to value the lives of Black and Brown people equally. They reveal how easily the state resorts to violence instead of care, and how deeply that violence seeps into the health of communities for generations.

Health is not just about hospitals. It’s about safety, stability, and dignity. Until public health is treated as a human right and not a privilege, unrest will continue to rise—and history will continue to repeat itself.

Let us not just study the past but be brave enough to change its legacy.