myth

Covered marquees. Downed statues. Painted-over murals. A canceled holiday.

California has effectively exorcised César Chávez from the public sphere just weeks after a New York Times investigation found two women who said the legendary labor leader sexually assaulted them when they were teenage girls in the 1970s. Just as explosive was the revelation by his longtime lieutenant, Dolores Huerta, that he raped her in the 1960s.

My prediction for the next place we’ll see a Chávez purge: books about him, which number into the dozens and span from academic treatises to children’s tales. But before critics relegate those texts to the banned section, folks should read some of them to see how writers helped establish the Chávez myth and propagated it for decades.

The books that created the Chávez legend

The tendency to elevate him above other activists was there from the start. In 1967, John Gregory Dunne published “Delano: The Story of the California Grape Strike,” which saw the author (and husband to Joan Didion) capture the essence of el movimiento in its earliest days through on-the-ground reporting and interviews with Chávez, whom Dunne described in the introduction as “the right man at the right place at what was, sadly, both the right and the wrong time.”

Famed writer Peter Matthiessen cemented Chávez’s image as a humble hero fighting a lone, brave battle against philistine farmers with a two-part New Yorker profile that became the basis for 1969s “Sal Si Puedes: Cesar Chavez and the New American Revolution.” That narrative continued with Jacques Levy’s 1975 release “Cesar Chavez: Autobiography of La Causa.” Talk about getting too close to the subject: The author’s archived papers disclosed he served as Chávez’s literal notetaker during the 1970 negotiations that ended the grape strike and led to the UFW’s first union contracts.

Chávez came under strong scrutiny

Rose-tinted biographies tellingly stopped around the time Chávez created a commune in what’s now currently the César E. Chávez National Monument in Keene and began to target perceived enemies within the UFW. Critics instead appeared in the media — one of the first was a 1979 Reason article that alleged he was misusing federal funds and contained the prescient line, “Many people will be reluctant to believe anything that could cast a shadow over this man.”

Other critical dispatches included pieces in the L.A. Times, Village Voice and one in the Sacramento Bee so damning in its indictment of how Chávez had, on his own, sabotaged the movement so many associated with him that its author, Marcos Breton, recently wrote how Chávez was left “hostile and angry” by his simple questions.

In the wake of Chávez’s decline and eventual death in 1993, authors created a new genre: Saint César. Titles like “Cesar Chavez and the Common Sense of Nonviolence,” “Conquering Goliath: Cesar Chavez at the Beginning” (by his mentor, Fred Ross Sr., the most important California organizer you’ve never heard of) and “The Rhetorical Career of César Chávez” pushed forth the gospel of their subject as a plainspoken prophet out of the Good Book.

Chávez inspired millions — but those books will now forever read as hollow and sadly myopic.

Rethinking the Chávez myth

True reappraisals of Chávez and his work wouldn’t start until after former Times editor and reporter Miriam Pawel published a 2006 series for this paper that showed the ugly, domineering side of Chávez and the UFW’s decline. Six years later, longtime activist Frank Bardacke simultaneously praised and damned Chávez in his “Trampling Out the Vintage: Cesar Chavez and the Two Souls of the United Farm Workers.” Though a good read, it pales in importance and poignant lyricism to two double whammies that dropped in 2014: “From the Jaws of Victory The Triumph and Tragedy of Cesar Chavez and the Farm Worker Movement” by Dartmouth College professor (and my distant cousin!) Matthew Garcia and Pawel’s own “The Crusades of Cesar Chavez: A Biography.”

Garcia and Pawel are now making media appearances and writing essays to opine on where they think Chávez went wrong. Expect updates to all of these books and so many others in the months and years to come — if they’re ever published again.

Today’s top stories

Red diamond rattlesnakes are among species in the Golden State. One reptile expert who relocates snakes says her phone has been “ringing off the hook.”

(Christina House/Los Angeles Times)

Weird rattlesnake season

• Unseasonably warm March weather triggered an unusually active rattlesnake season in California, with experts fielding record calls about sightings statewide.
• Two fatal bites in Southern California in March and 77 Poison Control calls in three months far exceed typical annual patterns.

Life after California

• A new UC Berkeley study found that people who moved out of California dramatically improved their financial conditions.
• Those former Californians said the move saved them almost $700 in monthly housing costs, and they became 48% more likely to own a home in their new state.

Minimal snow in California mountains

More big stories

Commentary and opinions

This morning’s must read

Other great reads

For your downtime

(Stella Kalinina / For The Times; Bill Addison / Los Angeles Times; Stephanie Breijo / Los Angeles Times; Kayla Bartkowski / Los Angeles Times)

Going out

Staying in

A question for you: How are you celebrating Easter this year?

Email us at essentialcalifornia@latimes.com, and your response might appear in the newsletter this week.

And finally … the photo of the day

Dodgers pitcher Shohei Ohtani delivers during the second inning of a 4-1 win over the Cleveland Guardians at Dodger Stadium on Tuesday night.

(Ronaldo Bolaños/Los Angeles Times)

Today’s great photo is from Times photographer Ronaldo Bolaños at Tuesday night’s Dodgers’ game. Shohei Ohtani battled through the rain to throw a one-hit gem in the Dodgers’ 4-1 win over the Cleveland Guardians.

Have a great day, from the Essential California team

Jim Rainey, staff reporter
Hugo Martín, assistant editor
Kevinisha Walker, multiplatform editor
Andrew Campa, weekend reporter
Karim Doumar, head of newsletters

How can we make this newsletter more useful? Send comments to essentialcalifornia@latimes.com.

An eerie silence had settled.

As word evidently reached activists in the last few weeks that disturbing allegations of sexual abuse against Chicano civil rights icon Cesar Chavez were forthcoming, things started to happen without much explanation.

Groups began to cancel long-planned parades, dinners, lectures and fundraisers scheduled for Chavez’s birthday on March 31. People who I’ve known for years suddenly weren’t returning calls or texts about what was going on. Longtime defenders of Chavez — who stood by their hero even as revelations in this paper and in biographies over the past generation showed there was a dark side to the man — suddenly became hard to reach.

When the United Farm Workers and the Cesar Chavez Foundation put out statements Tuesday morning that “troubling allegations” against their patriarch were considered credible enough for them to offer help to his victims, the silence transformed into dread. There was a discomfort similar to waiting for a tsunami — that whatever was coming would change lives, shake institutions and make people question values and principles that they had long held dear.

And like a natural disaster, what emerged about Chavez was far worse than anyone could’ve expected.

Wednesday morning, the New York Times published a story where two women whose families marched alongside Chavez in the fields of California during the 1960s and 1970s disclosed that he sexually abused them for years when they were girls. Just as shocking was the revelation by Dolores Huerta, Chavez’s longtime compatriot and a civil rights legend, that he had once raped her at a time when their leadership in the fight to bring dignity to grape pickers earned national acclaim and amounted to a modern-day Via Dolorosa.

The silence has transformed into screams. Politicians and organizations that long commemorated Chavez and urged others to follow his ways are releasing statements by the minute. My social media feed is now a torrent of friends and strangers expressing empathy for Chavez’s victims and outrage, disgust and — above all — disappointment that someone considered a secular saint by many for decades turned out to be a human more terrible than anyone could’ve imagined.

There will be questions and soul-searching about these horrifying disclosures in the weeks, months and years to come. We will see a push for the renaming of the dozens of schools, parks and streets that bear Chavez’s name across the country and even the rebranding of Cesar Chavez Day, a California state holiday since 2000 devoted to urging people to give back to their communities and the least among us.

The reckoning is only right. Much of the Latino civil rights, political and educational ecosystem will have to grapple with why they held up Chavez as a paragon of virtue for too long above others just as deserving and, as it turns out, nowhere near as compromised.

In any event, the myth has been punctured.

A portrait of Cesar Chavez on a mural on Farmacia Ramirez, 2403 Cesar E Chavez Ave. in East Los Angeles.

(James Carbone / Los Angeles Times)

Chavez’s biography always reads like an entry in the “Lives of the Saints” genre of books that Catholics used to read about the holy men of their faith. The son of farmworkers who became a Mexican American Moses trying to lead his people to the promised land of equity and political power. An internationally famous leader who lived a mendicant’s life. Who devoted decades to some of the most exploited people in the American economy. Honored with awards, plays, posters. Murals, movies and monuments. President Biden even kept a bust of Chavez at his Oval Office desk.

It was a beatific reputation that largely persisted even as the union he helped to create lost its influence in the fields of California and a new generation of activists looked down on Chavez for his long-standing opposition to immigrants who came to this country to work without legal status. Admirers kept him on a pedestal even as former UFW members alleged over the last two decades that the boss they once idolized purged too many good people in the name of absolute control. The hagiography continued even as a new generation of Latinos came of age not knowing anything about him other than an occasional school lesson or television segment.

I was one of those neophytes. I first heard his name at Anaheim High School in the mid-1990s and thought my teacher was talking about Julio Cesar Chavez, the famous Mexican boxer. I was thrilled to discover that someone had bravely fought for the rights of campesinos like my mom and her sisters, who toiled in the garlic fields of Gilroy and strawberry patches of Orange County as teenage girls in the 1960s, the same time that Chavez and the UFW were enjoying their historic wins.

“Who’s Cesar Chavez?” my Mami responded when I asked if his efforts ever made her work easier.

My admiration for Chavez continued even as I learned about some of his faults. I was able to separate Chavez the man from the movement for which he was a figurehead. Long-maligned communities seek heroes to emulate, to draw hope from, to hang on their walls and share their quotes on social media. We create them even as we ignore that they’re flesh and blood just like us.

Chavez seemed like the right man at the right moment as Mexican Americans rose up like never before to battle discrimination and segregation. Now, Latinos and others who admired Chavez have to grapple with his moral failings of the worst possible magnitude at the worst possible time: when there’s an administration doing everything possible to crush Latinos and we’re looking for people to look up to like never before.

He remains one of the few Latino civil rights leaders known nationwide — and Chavez is nowhere near as known as acolytes make him out to be. Some people will argue that it’s unfair he will likely get wiped away from the public sphere while other predatory men from the past and present largely maintain their riches and reputations.

But that’s looking at the abuse revelations the wrong way. For now, I will follow what those most directly affected by Chavez’s actions are telling us to do.

The UFW and Cesar Chavez Foundation were wise to not try to defend the indefensible in their statements and instead consider any victims first before deciding how to decide what’s next for them.

The Chavez family put out a news release that states “we honor the voices of those who feel unheard and who report sexual abuse.”

Huerta wrote in an online essay: “Cesar’s actions do not reflect the values of our community and our movement. The farmworker movement has always been bigger and far more important than any one individual.”

Another of his victims told the New York Times of Chavez’s legacy: “It makes you rethink in history all those heroes. The movement — that’s the hero.”

The fountain in the Memorial Garden surrounds the gravesite of Cesar Chavez and his wife Helen Chavez at Cesar E. Chavez National Monument in Keene, Calif.

(Francine Orr)

The face of that movimiento brought inspiration to millions and improved the lives of hundreds of thousands. That’s why we shouldn’t cancel the good that Chavez fought for alongside so many; we should direct the adulation he once attracted and the anger he’ll now rightfully receive toward the work that still needs to be done.

To quote an old UFW slogan that Chavez transformed into a mantra, la lucha sigue — the fight continues. It’s a statement that’s more pertinent than ever, damn its imperfect messenger.