Becerras

WASHINGTON — Xavier Becerra was dubbed a “rising star” before he even entered the halls of Congress.

His June 1992 Democratic primary victory over Los Angeles school board member Leticia Quezada in California’s 30th Congressional District earned the 34-year-old candidate that description in The Times.

When the boyish, affable congressman became the first Latino lawmaker appointed to the powerful House Ways and Means Committee in his second term, national outlets took notice.

Thirty years later, in the final weeks of his gubernatorial race with Republican Steve Hilton, Becerra now finds himself poised to lead the most populous state in the country.

An examination of Becerra’s more than 25 years in Washington shows a politician who was skilled at building important alliances and amassing power on Capitol Hill, but had some stumbles along the way and faced criticism for his performance in his highest profile role.

Becerra built his reputation as a diligent consensus-builder — a workhorse rather than a show horse, to use an analogy favored by political scientists — but also revealed himself to be an ambitious political operator in key moments.

“He’s an affable person who’s not afraid to pull out a knife in politics while smiling,” said Christian Grose, a political science professor at USC.

Becerra’s campaign declined to comment on his time in Washington.

Becerra’s origin story traces back to his youth in Sacramento, and a moment when a high school friend was about to throw out a blank, unused application to Stanford University. The elite university was only 125 miles away, but it might as well have been across the ocean from the working-class world Becerra was raised in. Still, he applied.

Becerra — whose parents spent their early years in Mexico — became the first in his family to graduate from college when he earned a degree from Stanford in 1980.

He earned a law degree there four years later, and it was at Stanford that he met his wife, Carolyn Reyes, who became a physician.

After living in Boston while Reyes attended Harvard Medical School, Becerra moved to Los Angeles to work for state Sen. Art Torres. Within a few years he was tapped by Henry Lozano, then chief of staff to trailblazing Latino Rep. Edward Roybal, to run for state Assembly in 1990; and then, two years later, to succeed Roybal, who was retiring after 30 years in Congress.

Roybal endorsed Becerra, whose victory in the heavily Latino district that included Central and Eastside Los Angeles communities, was seen as a passing of the torch to the next generation.

Frank Villalobos, the founder and president of Barrio Architects, was among the leaders in East L.A. who encouraged Becerra to run for political office, and he said he was impressed early on by Becerra’s genuine commitment to the community and his ability to unite the area’s sometimes divided political factions.

“I thought if we kept this going, someday he’ll become the governor,” Villalobos said.

Becerra was part of a wave of young Latino lawmakers entering Congress, and his growing power within Democratic ranks helped him escape Roybal’s long shadow. Soon after Becerra’s barrier-breaking appointment to the Ways and Means Committee — which writes tax legislation — Becerra became chair of the Congressional Hispanic Caucus, a position he held from 1997 to 1999.

An early test

He put his growing stature to the test a few years later when he decided to enter the L.A. mayor’s race in 2001.

It didn’t go well.

Former state Assembly Speaker Antonio Villaraigosa was also running, and Becerra — who had slept on Villaraigosa’s couch when he first ran for Congress — faced criticism for potentially splitting the Latino vote.

Becerra performed poorly, winning only 6% of the vote in the Democratic primary. His nice-guy reputation took a hit when his campaign was found to have been behind automated phone calls attacking Villaraigosa by a woman who falsely gave the impression that she was county Supervisor Gloria Molina, whose endorsement had been crucial in Becerra’s first run for Congress.

Becerra also faced criticism for his role in contacting White House staffers as part of an effort to push for the release of convicted L.A. cocaine dealer Carlos Vignali, whose father was a political contributor to Becerra. Vignali’s sentence was commuted by President Clinton on his last day in office; Becerra acknowledged calling the White House several times to discuss the possibility of Vignali’s release. Villaraigosa also wrote a letter on Vignali’s behalf.

Becerra told The Times in 2001 that he wasn’t lobbying for Vignali’s release, but merely asking White House officials to review the details of the conviction on behalf of the family.

“If I was going to try to put pressure on, I would have tried to call the president,” Becerra said at the time.

Villaraigosa fared better than Becerra but ultimately lost the 2001 election to City Atty. James Hahn, then rebounded to win the first of two terms as mayor in 2005.

Becerra got the better of Villaraigosa in their rematch this year in the Democratic gubernatorial primary, and won Villaraigosa’s support after.

“We’ve been friends a long time and, yes, we’ve been adversaries as well, but most of the time we’ve been friends,” Villaraigosa told The Times. “He’s got the experience and the wherewithal to lead this state.”

As for Becerra as a house guest during his first run for Congress?

“He makes his bed. He was neat,” said Villaraigosa. “He was pretty inconspicuous.”

Capitol Hill climbing

After his mayoral defeat, Becerra’s focus returned to Washington, where an alliance with another powerful Californian was a boon to his career on Capitol Hill.

Becerra was a close ally of former House Speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-San Francisco), serving as assistant to the speaker from 2007 to 2009.

John Lawrence, Pelosi’s former chief of staff, said that Becerra’s standing within the California delegation and particularly among Latino lawmakers was a big part of his appeal.

“Speaker Pelosi had set a goal of elevating minorities and women who had historically been excluded from leadership,” he said.

Their relationship took a hit after Becerra told progressive lawmakers in 2009 that he believed party leadership gave up too easily on including a public option in the Affordable Care Act, which was signed into law the following year.

“I understand I have tire tracks on my back because Xavier threw me under the bus,” Pelosi said during a Democratic Party leadership meeting in 2009, Politico reported.

And Pelosi would later question Becerra’s appointment in 2021 to be secretary of Health and Human Services. She has not endorsed Becerra in the gubernatorial race.

But any bad blood between the two didn’t stop Becerra from continuing to advance within the party ranks.

He became chair of the House Democratic Caucus in 2012, leading weekly meetings of all Democrats in the House and uniting the party’s members.

Former Wisconsin Democratic Rep. Ron Kind said Becerra was an excellent listener and skilled at building consensus.

“He could get in the room with anyone and find common ground,” Kind said.

Becerra joined several high-stakes negotiations, notably a 2013 bipartisan effort to pass comprehensive immigration reform, in the wake of the “Gang of Eight” deal struck in the Senate.

John Yarmuth, a Democratic congressman from Kentucky who was also part of the House negotiation, said Becerra was “an amazing positive force” in the process.

“I think he, more than anyone else, was focused on fixing the problem,” Yarmuth said.

Xavier Becerra bumps elbows with U.S. Sen. Dianne Feinstein (D-Calif.) before his Senate committee confirmation hearing for Health and Human Services secretary in 2021.

(Greg Nash / Associated Press)

The group was able to achieve a compromise, but it never saw the light of day.

Then-House Speaker John Boehner, an Ohio Republican, later blamed then-President Obama, whom he accused of “poisoning the well” on an immigration compromise. Yarmuth said Republicans were spooked about potential blowback.

Several potential off-ramps appeared during Becerra’s time in Washington. He was considered by Obama for U.S. trade representative in 2008, but Becerra declined the offer. After flirting with the idea of running for outgoing U.S. Sen. Barbara Boxer’s seat, Becerra declined to enter the race, ultimately won by then-California Atty. Gen. Kamala Harris. He was briefly floated as a potential running mate for Hillary Clinton in the 2016 presidential election, but that didn’t materialize either.

In late 2016, Becerra found himself at a crossroads.

After more than a decade on the Ways and Means Committee, he faced the possibility of becoming the top Democrat on the committee and had the endorsement of the outgoing top Democrat, Rep. Sander Levin of Michigan.

But Harris’ victory in the 2016 Senate race created a vacancy for state attorney general.

Becerra decided to return home to Sacramento to take the role and spent the next four years as the state’s top law enforcement official, serving as “defender-in-chief” of the state, as USC’s Grose put it, against the Trump administration.

Fraught second act in D.C.

Becerra returned to Washington in 2021 for a second act that would prove to be far more controversial than his first.

Despite having no background in healthcare, Becerra was nominated to be the secretary of Health and Human Services and confirmed, over significant opposition by Republicans.

He took the reins of the healthcare agency as the country was still grappling with the COVID-19 pandemic and struggled to establish a clear role for himself in a response effort that was centered in the White House.

In his first year in office, he was called out by reporters for failing to hold regular press briefings.

And he faced criticism when health officials under his purview offered contradictory information in late 2021 about reduced quarantine requirements for people testing positive for COVID-19.

He continued to face criticism for the disappearance of thousands of unaccompanied migrant children who were supposed to be monitored by the agency’s Office of Refugee Resettlement after entering the country.

And Becerra’s chief of staff at Health and Human Services and longtime advisor, Sean McCluskie, pleaded guilty last year to participating in a scheme to use campaign funds from a dormant Becerra state political committee to pay for McCluskie’s frequent travel between Washington and California.

Dana Williamson, a longtime political consultant for Becerra and former chief of staff to Gov. Gavin Newsom, pleaded guilty earlier this year for her role in the scheme. McCluskie and Williamson are scheduled to be sentenced in December. Neither Becerra nor Newsom were accused of wrongdoing.

Democratic operative Xochitl Hinojosa, who served as the spokesperson for the Department of Justice in the Biden administration, earlier this year offered a blunt assessment of Becerra’s performance.

“He was not effective in government, and I think that a lot of people in the Biden administration are talking about this because they realize that he was not an effective HHS secretary,” Hinojosa said on CNN in May.

While other members of the Biden administration have defended Becerra’s performance, his time at the helm highlighted an issue that even allies concede has bedeviled Becerra in the past, his tendency to sometimes recede into the background.

Loretta Sanchez, a former Democratic congresswoman from Orange County who credits Becerra with encouraging her to run for Congress, put it simply.

“Will Xavier be bold?” she said. “I hope he takes those bold moves, because California needs it.”

My maternal grandmother, Marcela Miranda, was born in Arizona’s copper country in 1914 and lived in the United States until she was about 7.

She was part of a generation whose parents were from the rancho of El Cargadero, Zacatecas, and started families in el Norte while waiting out the Mexican Revolution in the 1910s and the Cristero Revolt in the 1920s. Many returned to their home village when things calmed down.

After growing up in Mexico, my grandmother moved to California with my grandfather and their children in the 1960s. Only the American government considered her a native-born U.S. citizen, while society dismissed her as a Mexican. We grandchildren always considered our Mama Chela a doña — a grand Mexican dame who never wore pants and frequently covered her hair with a veil out of modesty. All she remembered from her early childhood in Arizona were snippets of the nursery rhymes “Did You Ever See a Lassie?” and “The Bear Went Over the Mountain.”

The El Cargadero diaspora, which mostly settled in Anaheim, saw our forebears’ American birth as a stroke of provenance allowing them to legally enter the U.S. and give their progeny a head start that other Mexicans could only dream of. It’s a story I’ve repeatedly told over my decades-long journalism career, and no one has yet challenged my description of my grandmother as an immigrant.

If they did, I’d think they had too much time on their hands, or maybe that they were a wackjob contrarian.

Cue Steve Hilton.

The Republican candidate for California governor is trying to make a scandal out of his Democratic opponent, Xavier Becerra, portraying himself as the son of Mexican immigrants. Twice last week during their CNN debate, Becerra said his parents came to California “with $12.” In previous interviews during his decades in the political spotlight, Becerra has shared that his father, Manuel, was born in Sacramento in 1928 and moved to Mexico as a child during the Great Depression, eventually returning to the land of his birth.

Hilton, who has been endorsed by President Trump, has as much a chance of becoming the Golden State’s next governor as Stephen Miller. But he and his supporters have latched on to Becerra’s statement like it was the borderlands version of stolen valor. Critics combed through Becerra’s family genealogy like Indiana Jones searching for the Holy Grail, then posted their findings online — Becerra’s dad grew up in Tijuana before coming back to California, then married in Guadalajara before returning in the 1950s to Sacramento, where Xavier was born — to claim that Becerra is one giant, pandering fraudster.

“Unlike Xavier Becerra, I am an immigrant,” the British-born son of Hungarian refugees harrumphed on social media. He followed up by declaring that Becerra is “LYING” about his family’s American experience “in order to score identity points.”

What more proof do California voters need that Hilton is laughably out of touch with how we live? Many Mexican Americans, including my cousins and me, consider family members raised in Mexico to be immigrants, even if they were born in the U.S. Growing up down south forever shapes your language, work ethic, appreciation for how hard life can be and so much more. When they return to the U.S., such people often find themselves ostracized as paisa — country — and must learn the mores of American life, just like those born abroad.

To argue that calling them immigrants is technically wrong is like getting angry at people who don’t pronounce Los Feliz the Spanish way. For Becerra’s critics to claim he’s stretching his immigrant roots to appeal to Latino voters is an insult to Latinos. We know a cultural faker when we see one, and the Becerra family story isn’t an anomaly; it’s our lives.

Gubernatorial candidate Steve Hilton addresses patrons at Victorio’s Ristorante in North Hollywood in September.

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

“It’s a weird gotcha,” said Cal State Fullerton Chicano studies professor Alexandro José Gradilla, whose wife’s grandmother was born in California and raised in Mexico, then bounced between the two countries for the rest of her life. “What’s the dis? Where’s the dunk? It’s so normative, especially of that generation. We cannot have the 2026 definition of immigration, the border and policy apply to a completely different landscape.”

Becerra’s critics subscribe to “this very American bias that an immigrant only moves once to the U.S., the land of opportunity, of hope — all that mythology,” Gradilla continued. During the Ellis Island era, he noted, European immigrants returned to their home countries with their U.S.-born children, and then those children faced many of the same hardships as first-time arrivals when they came back to the U.S. as adults.

“‘We don’t call those people expats or returnees — ‘immigrant’ is the only intelligible label we understand,” the profe concluded. “Until we come up with a better label, Becerra’s dad is an immigrant.”

There are many legitimate reasons to bash Becerra, from his refusal to participate in more debates to his paltry number of public rallies to a platform that sounds like more of what created California’s current woes. His family history isn’t it.

Hilton’s fixation on Becerra’s immigrant bona fides shows how desperate he is to gain some traction, any traction, with Latino voters. He at least has picked up on Latinos’ regard for immigrant success stories. But after bragging about being the candidate of legal immigrants, for Hilton to hold being born here against someone who went back and forth between the U.S. and Mexico is a weak salsa pendejada.

Hilton would have been better off with his conservative base if he had labeled Becerra the son of an anchor baby.

At a press conference with elected officials to oppose Proposition 39, which would mandate voter identification, my colleague Nicole Nixon asked Becerra about Hilton’s attacks on his dad. Becerra finally unlocked the inner cholo so many of us have been waiting to see, instead of the Chicano Ned Flanders he’s been projecting for decades.

“So this is what happens when people who don’t understand immigration start to pontificate,” he responded, summarizing his family story once again and pointing out the discrimination his father faced as someone of Mexican heritage, birthright citizenship be damned.

“Steve Hilton may not know that [Mexican American history] because he’s not from the U.S.,” Becerra said. “Steve Hilton may not know that because even though he’s an immigrant, he hasn’t taken the time to research.”

Wow, the brown Democratic candidate calling the white Republican candidate a dumb immigrant — California politics sure have changed!

But Becerra’s smackdown had a point. Conservatives deeply misunderstand what it is to be Mexican American. We’ve never fit into the American assimilation story and so have created our own narrative, one that people like Hilton refuse to accept at their own peril.

Hilton needs to take a Chicano studies class, where discussions about the fluidity of Mexican identity inevitably come up.

And, wouldn’t you know it, Gradilla planned to bring up that very subject with his students this week — he didn’t even know about Hilton’s attacks against Becerra until I told him.

The profe has had to update his lectures about the forced removal of upward of a million Mexican Americans south of the border during the Great Depression. He relates that history to the present, when many undocumented Latinos are returning to the countries of their birth with their U.S.-born children, either because they’ve been deported or to avoid being arrested and locked up under Trump’s hellfire immigration enforcement regime.

“For Hilton, anyone of Mexican heritage in this country needs to be grateful, you need to be loyal, and you need to be here,” Gradilla said. “Who would ever want to leave the U.S.? Well, some people have to.”

Democrat Xavier Becerra, the frontrunner to become the state’s next governor, often invokes the story of his parents’ humble beginnings as immigrants from Mexico who, through hard work, built happy and productive lives in California.

“My parents came to California with $12 in their pocket. They lived the California dream,” Becerra said during last week’s gubernatorial debate with Republican rival Steve Hilton, aired nationally on CNN.

Becerra for years has described himself as the “son of immigrants” when talking about his upbringing, but that claim has come under scrutiny by Hilton and other critics who accuse Becerra of embellishing his family history. Becerra’s mother is from Guadalajara, Mexico, but his father was born in Sacramento and raised in Tijuana — making him a U.S. citizen and not a legal immigrant.

“Unlike Xavier Becerra, I am an immigrant. Unlike Xavier Becerra, my father was an immigrant. My stepfather too. My whole family,” Hilton wrote in a post on X.

Hilton is an immigrant from the United Kingdom and is the son of Hungarian immigrants who fled their homeland during a revolution in 1956.

Richard Grenell, a former Trump administration official, accused news outlets of letting a lie “continue for decades” throughout Becerra’s tenure as California attorney general and then as a Cabinet official in the Biden administration.

Becerra has openly discussed the details of his parents’ story, which unfolded on both sides of the border and in many ways reflects Mexican immigrant trajectories during the historical period of the 1920s and 1930s.

During speeches and in interviews Becerra has described how his father, Manuel, was born in Sacramento in 1928 and taken back to Tijuana as a young boy, with few jobs for Americans during the Great Depression, and even fewer jobs for Mexicans working in the U.S. His father traveled between the two countries often, and, as an older child, he would look for work in the U.S.

Becerra on Tuesday accused Hilton of “casting lies” about his family’s background, saying that the Republican failed to understand the struggle that many Mexican immigrants and Mexican Americans faced in this county decades ago. He said his dad would tell of the days when he couldn’t walk into some establishments that had posted signs that read “No dog, Negros or Mexicans allowed.”

“This is what happens when people who don’t understand immigration start to pontificate,” Becerra said Tuesday after a morning rally against Proposition 39, a voter identification measure, at Guelaguetza, a Oaxacan restaurant in Los Angeles’ Pico-Union neighborhood.

“I am very proud of my parents, and I consider them immigrants because even though my dad was born in the U.S. — in a country that wouldn’t treat him the way it would treat other U.S. citizens — my dad was a proud immigrant,” Becerra said. “I am proud that I am their son. I am the son of immigrants.”

G. Cristina Mora, a UC Berkeley professor of sociology studying attitudes toward immigration, said Becerra’s critics misunderstand a common phenomenon at the time, when immigrants moved back and forth across a southern border that was much more porous — very different from the militarized border of today.

Beyond the dwindling jobs and precarious economics of the 1930s serving as a push factor for many Mexican families, a wave of xenophobia also helped send hundreds of thousands back to Mexico. A wave of mass deportations across the Southwest states resulted in more than 1 million Mexicans and their descendants being forced out of their homes and loaded on trains out. More than 60% were U.S. citizens.

Mora, who also serves as co-director of the UC Berkeley’s Institute of Governmental Studies, said “it was a time of very great anti-Mexican fervor.” Many sought to later return. Some were deported multiple times.

“There are many types of immigrants. There’s so much nuance,” Mora said. “To think there’s only one immigrant story would just be to not know California.”

Becerra’s campaign spokesperson Jonathan Underland in a statement accused Hilton of hypocritically attempting to capitalize on an immigrant narrative.

“Steve Hilton doesn’t seem to have a problem with immigrants who look like him — but openly attacks immigrants who look like Xavier Becerra,” Underland said. “Trump ignited a deep anti-immigrant animus among MAGA voters, and Hilton is tapping into that as he scrambles to distract from his bizarre ad campaign that alienated some of his closest allies.” Last week, Hilton’s campaign put out a provocative, sexually suggestive ad that drew criticism from his fellow Republicans.

Becerra, both on Tuesday and throughout his long political career, has often described his parents’ upbringing.

He said his father’s family moved back to Tijuana during the Great Depression. His father, he said, was the eldest child and was forced to leave school after the sixth grade to help support the family. He began working as a preteen, bouncing back and forth between the U.S. and Tijuana. He would tell stories about being a shoe shiner, at times of celebrities and movie stars. He also worked in the farm fields with his dad and sometimes with his uncles.

In the early 1950s he married Becerra’s mother, Maria Teresa, who lived in Guadalajara.

“When they decided to make a go of it outside of Guadalajara, they went to Tijuana. They didn’t have great success, so that’s when they decided to come to the U.S.,” Becerra said on Tuesday. “So when I say my parents came to California with $12 in their pocket, it’s because, Steve Hilton, my parents came to California with $12 in their pocket.”

Becerra’s father later began a construction career that lasted 30 years, while his mother worked as a clerical worker and later purchased rental properties.

Times researcher Cary Schneider contributed to this report.