san francisco

WASHINGTON — When President Trump ordered immigration raids in Los Angeles last June, only a handful of those arrested were violent criminals. The sweeps split families, cost businesses millions of dollars and drove many undocumented residents into hiding.

Activists protested the Immigration and Customs Enforcement actions, prompting the president to deploy thousands of federal troops in what he called a security operation. A federal judge called it unlawful and said the deployment caused “greater harm” to the city.

Now, Trump wants a redo.

At a Cabinet meeting Thursday, he called on the mayors and governors of several blue cities and states to allow troops to “come in and stop the crime,” pointing to purported successes in Washington, Memphis and New Orleans.

“Crime is down 75% in a short period of time,” Trump told his top advisors. “We could do that for L.A. and we could do that for, frankly, San Francisco.”

The president framed the deployments as both a crime-fighting and immigration enforcement tool, saying that federal authorities can remove people from cities in ways local officials cannot.

“We can do it much more effectively, because [local leaders] can’t do what we do,” Trump said. “All the time, people come up to me … and they say ‘thank you so much.’ I know immediately what they’re talking about. They’re able to walk to work.”

Trump also said this week that he would consider deploying the National Guard at airports to assist with mounting security delays amid a 40-day partial government shutdown.

The renewed call comes after a series of controversial federal interventions in cities across the country. In Washington, Trump has repeatedly touted a visible security presence near federal buildings, crediting it with improving public safety, though local officials and analysts have debated how much of any decline in crime can be attributed to his order.

U.S. Marines stationed outside the federal detention center in downtown Los Angeles in June.

(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)

In January, Trump threatened to invoke the Insurrection Act to deploy troops to Minneapolis during the civil unrest that followed the fatal shooting of Renee Good by a federal immigration agent. The Pentagon prepared active-duty troops for a possible deployment, but they were ordered to stand down following the shooting of a second Minneapolis civilian, Alex Pretti, the same month.

Immigration sweeps in Los Angeles targeted workplaces, neighborhoods and churches, stirring widespread panic and forcing many undocumented residents — including those with long-term residency and native-born children — into hiding. As a result, businesses reported sharp declines in revenue and customer traffic. A county analysis found that 82% of surveyed businesses experienced negative impacts, with some losing more than half their income amid workforce shortages and traffic reductions.

During the fallout, Mayor Karen Bass condemned Trump’s deployment of some 4,000 California National Guardsmen and 700 U.S. Marines.

“Deploying federalized troops on the heels of these raids is a chaotic escalation,” she said. “The fear people are feeling in our city right now is very real — it’s felt in our communities and within our families, and it puts our neighborhoods at risk. This is the last thing that our city needs.”

The president called the occupation off after U.S. District Judge Charles Breyer ruled that control of the California National Guard should be returned to the governor, rejecting the federal government’s authority to maintain control indefinitely. A similar Supreme Court ruling effectively ended federalized deployments throughout the country.

“The judges are really hurting this country,” Trump said Thursday. “Frankly, the justices — the Supreme Court — has really hurt our country, too.”

At the meeting, Trump also narrowed his comments on San Francisco and its mayor, Daniel Lurie.

“San Francisco was a great city, could quickly become a great city again,” Trump said. “But we can do it much more effectively.”

Last year, Trump considered carrying out similar federal law enforcement operations in the city. He backed off after a somewhat conciliatory phone call with Lurie, in which Trump said the mayor asked him “very nicely” to call off the deployment. Afterward, he agreed to give the newly elected mayor “a chance” to address crime in the city.

“In San Francisco, crime is down 30%, encampments are at record lows, and our city is on the rise,” Lurie said in a statement Thursday. “Public safety is my number one priority, and we are going to stay laser focused on keeping our streets safe and clean.”

A spokesperson for Lurie’s office said the two have not spoken since that October conversation, indicating Trump’s latest remarks do not reflect any new request or ongoing negotiations. Even so, the president struck a measured tone toward the San Francisco mayor on Thursday. He said Lurie is “trying very hard” but insisted federal intervention would get the job done faster.

Whether any Democrat-led city will take Trump up on that offer remains to be seen. City leaders have previously resisted federal deployments, arguing they undermine local control and risk inflaming already tense situations.

The White House did not respond to questions about whether any current plans exist to redeploy federalized troops to California cities.

Times staff writer Melissa Gomez in Los Angeles contributed to this report.

If David Nihill was a philosopher, his credo might be “I digress, therefore I am.”

Instead, Nihill is a comedian. Kind of. “I don’t know if I think of myself in those terms,” says Nihill, whose “Cultural Appreciation” special has 2.5 million views on YouTube. “I wouldn’t even call mine comedy specials.”

Nihill is a conversational storyteller who rarely even moves on stage. “I don’t know how to do performance,” he says, “but I do know how to talk.”

His current show, “Taking Tangents,” which takes him to Irvine, Pasadena and Los Angeles from March 13 to 17, is a wide-ranging collection of tales, with some material shifting from show to show. We’ll come back to it, but first, a few tangents.

Growing up in Ireland, Nihill, 47, struggled to learn, hampered by dyslexia — “I came in the lowest five percentile in the whole country of Ireland for spelling, and I didn’t even spell my name right on the test” — and an aversion to math. He was made to feel inferior because of his difficulties. “I was 100% in the ‘I am a moron’ category,” he says.

Nihill was shoved into a vocational program and most of his friends dropped out of school. He stayed in, but even when his father offered to buy him a Super Nintendo for certain math scores, Nihill fell short. His father bought it for him anyway, he says, “but I sold it and bought myself a motorcycle even though I was 15 and not legally old enough to drive.”

He finished high school and became a poorly paid, overworked apprentice electrician. That was enough to motivate him to go to college; there, he figured out how his brain worked and how to learn. He even developed a passion for reading: His last show, “Shelf Life,” wove in dozens of book recommendations.

During our conversation via video after a New York show, I’d ask one question, then follow Nihill as he ambled through his personal history. He started with a story about jumping off a cliff in Greece and shattering his leg — a part of “Tangents” — then going to Australia, before he stumbled into a master’s degree studying business back in Ireland (despite botching his application). A new friend there took him to his first-ever comedy show in Glasgow — there are even tangents within his digressions — before getting him a job with Enterprise Ireland, the government’s investment fund to boost Irish business overseas. That landed him in San Francisco, part of the “Cultural Appreciation” special. He left to pursue business opportunities in Mexico but, due to a hurricane, somehow ended up in Chile, spent a year wandering north toward America, and then scored an internship in Colombia.

Nihill is a conversational storyteller who rarely even moves on stage. “I don’t know how to do performance,” he says, “but I do know how to talk.”

(Jim McCambridge)

Eventually, Nihill’s story works its way to his current career, which began by accident. “It was never a dream or a goal,” he says. A friend in San Francisco had suffered a spinal cord injury and Nihill wanted to run a fundraiser, but dreaded public speaking.

That leads to a minor diversion, back to a college public speaking course in which Nihill was so terrified that he got drunk before his presentation and introduced himself “as an exchange student from Southern Yemen.”

In San Francisco, he started doing live comedy to overcome that fear. Meanwhile, his business background led him to see an opportunity and he created FunnyBizz, a company and conference where comedians help teach business leaders, like Kevin Harrington of “As Seen on TV,” how to use humor to communicate. The business bankrolled Nihill’s early days in comedy.

While Nihill has lived in America for years, most recently in Los Angeles, he remains passionately Irish, which shapes his shows in several ways.

In Ireland, “your nature is to just default to funny stories.”

He says American stand-up is about taking a topic and making it funny, aspiring for a five-minute joke-filled late night TV spot. Irish comedians say, “This thing happened to me and I think that’s funny. Let me just repeat it.”

The new show is named after “tangents” so that Nihill can go down different rabbit holes each night if he wants. “My head is always doing 60 different things,” he says, and he loves keeping his storytelling “free form and unfiltered,” whether he’s in a pub or on stage (or, apparently, in an interview).

The new show’s subjects will be familiar to Nihill’s fans: his parents, his foolish behavior (there are drunken college-age antics in a story that somehow eventually weaves in White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt) and Irish culture. “There are few countries that punch above their weight in social justice and social impact,” he says, and he always looks to draw connections with other cultures around the world. But the observations and connections he draws are new.

In New York, he added a bit about how 35% of Jamaicans have some Irish roots, quipping “imagine how fast they’d be without that” (in a nod to legendary sprinters like Usain Bolt). But for Nihill, that joke only works if it’s couched within the larger context of the cross-cultural connections, including the fact that Jamaican-born political activist Marcus Garvey drew upon the Irish independence movement for inspiration.

“There has to be some social value to doing it,” he says, although he’s quick to add his comedy isn’t overtly political. “My dad’s a teacher and that lives inside of me. Humor can be the ultimate tool for social activism. I am deliberately getting people to expand their minds in understanding these connections. I want comedy that makes everyone feel good and maybe learn something.”

Nihill on stage at Hollywood Improv.

(Jim McCambridge)

That “feel good” part is central: While he discusses his mother’s death from cancer last year, he leaves out a beautiful but poignant part of their final days together. “I’m deliberately avoiding that,” he says, because he wants to maintain an upbeat mood.

He digresses to tell me the story, however, and it’s literally longer than this entire article’s word count. “A very long answer to a very short question,” he admits, before swerving into a tale about back when his father had overstayed his visa in New York — it involves his dad being interviewed on CNN, getting into a bar fight and avoiding deportation because the immigration officer hailed from County Cork and Nihill’s dad burst into a song from there, earning him a six-month visa extension. The humanity of that scene “in contrast to a 5-year-old being dragged off to a detention center” may end up in a future Nihill show.

Nihill loves sharing the stories that come from observing and listening to people but says he doesn’t love the spotlight, which, he admits, makes comedy an odd career choice. He says he prefers telling stories to just a few people.

“With comedy, the best part for me is that before a show I eat half a chocolate bar and I leave the other half in the hotel room,” he says. “After the show, I get to finish it. That’s true happiness.”