LOS ANGELES — Carlos Aranibar is a former Downey public works commissioner and remains involved in local Democratic politics. But until a few weeks ago, the son of Bolivian and Mexican immigrants hadn't joined any actions against the immigration raids that have overwhelmed Southern California.

Life always seemed to get in the way. Downey hadn't been hit as hard as other cities in Southeast L.A. County, where elected officials and local leaders urged residents to resist and helped them organize. Besides, we're talking about Downey, a city that advocates and detractors alike hyperbolically call the "Mexican Beverly Hills" for its middle-class Latino life and conservative streak.

Voters recalled a council member in 2023 for being too wokosa, and the council decided the next year to block the Pride flag from flying on city property. A few months later, Donald Trump received an 18.8% increase in voters compared to 2020 — part of a historic shift by Latino voters toward the Republican Party.

That's now going up in flames. But it took a while for Aranibar to full-on join the anti-migra movement — and people like him are shaping up to be a real threat to President Trump and the GOP in the coming midterms and beyond.

On Jan. 27, Aranibar saw a Customs and Border Protection truck on the way home from work. That jolted Aranibar, an electrician with the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers' Local 11, into action.

"It's not something like that I was in a bubble and I was finally mad — I've been mad," the 46-year-old said. "But seeing [immigration patrols] so close to my city, I thought 'That's not cool.'"

He Googled and called around to see how best to join others and resist. Someone eventually told him about a meeting that evening in a downtown Downey music venue. It was happening just a few days after Border Patrol agents shot and killed Minneapolis resident Alex Pretti after he tried to shield a fellow protester from pepper spray, and a few weeks after immigration agents tried to detain two Downey gardeners with legal status before residents hounded them away and recorded the encounter.

Aranibar joined more than 200 people standing shoulder to shoulder for the launch of a Downey ICE Watch group. They learned how to spot and track immigration agents and signed up for email updates. A box of whistles was passed around so people could alert their neighbors if la migra was around.

"Who here has been a member of a patrol?" an organizer asked from the stage.

Only a few people raised their hands.

"I saw familiar faces and new faces, energized — it was really nice," Aranibar said afterward. "I got the sense that people in Downey have been fired up to do something, and now it was happening."

A similarly unexpected political awakening seemed to be happening just down the street at Downey City Hall, on the other side of the political aisle.

Mayor Claudia Frometa set tongues wagging across town after video emerged of her whooping it up with other Latino Trump supporters the night he won his reelection bid. Activists since have demanded she speak out against the president's deportation deluge, protesting in front of City Hall and speaking out during council meetings when they didn't buy her rationale that local government officials couldn't do much about federal actions.

"Mayor Frometa is not a good Californian right now," councilmember Mario Trujillo told me before the Jan. 27 council meeting. During the previous meeting, Frometa cut off his mic and called for a recess after Trujillo challenged Frometa to talk to "her president" and stop what's going on. "It's not a time to deflect, it's not a time to hedge — it's a time to stand up. She's giving us a bulls—t narrative."

That night, Frometa listened to critics like Trujillo slam her anew while wearing a wearied smile. When it was her turn to speak at the end of the night, she looked down at her desk as if reading from prepared remarks — but her voice and gesticulations felt like she was speaking from somewhere deeper.

"This issue [of deportations] which we have been seeing unfold and morph into something very ugly — it's not about politics anymore," Frometa said. "It's about government actions not aligning with our Constitution, not aligning with our law and basic standards of fairness and humanity."

As she repeatedly put on and removed her glasses, Frometa encouraged people to film immigration agents and noted the council had just approved extra funding for city-sponsored know-your-rights and legal aid workshops.

"This is beyond party affiliation," the mayor concluded, "and we will stand together as a community."

Suddenly, the so-called "Mexican Beverly Hills" was blasting Trump from the left and the right. Among Latinos, such a shift is blazing around the country like memes about Bad Bunny's Super Bowl halftime show. Trump's support among former voters has collapsed to the point that Florida state senator Ileana Garcia, co-founder of Latinas for Trump, told the New York Times that the president "will lose the midterms" because of his scorched-earth approach to immigrants.

Former Assembly member Hector de la Torre said he's not surprised by what's happening in a place like Downey.

"When it hits home like that, it's not hypothetical anymore — it's real," he said. De La Torre was at the Downey ICE Watch meeting and works with Fromenta in his role as executive director of the Gateway Cities Council of Governments, which advocates for 27 cities stretching from Montebello to Long Beach to Cerritos and all the southeast L.A. cities.

"People are coming out the way they maybe didn't in the past " he continued. "It's that realization that [raids] can even happen here."

Mario Guerra is a longtime chaplain for the Downey police department and former mayor who remains influential in local politics — he helped the entire council win their elections. While he seemed skeptical of the people who attended the Downey ICE Watch — "How many of then were actual residents?" — he noted "frustration" among fellow Latino Republicans over Trump and his raids.

"I didn't vote for masked men picking people up at random," Guerra said before mentioning the migra encounter with the gardeners in January. "If that doesn't weigh on your heart, then you've got some issues. All this will definitely weigh on the midterms."

Even before Frometa's short speech, I had a hint of what was to to come. Before the council meeting, I met with the termed-out mayor in her office.

The 51-year-old former Democrat is considered a rising GOP star as one of the few Republican Latino elected officials in Los Angeles and the first California Republican to head the nonpartisan National Assn. of Latino Elected and Appointed Officials. Her family moved to Downey from Juarez, Mexico when she was 12. Whites made up the majority of the suburban city back then, and it was most famous in those days as the land that birthed the Carpenters and the Space Shuttle.

Now, Downey is about 75% Latino, and four of its five council members are Latino.

So what did Frometa expect of Trump in his second term?

"I was expecting him to enforce our laws," she replied. "To close our border so that we didn't have hundreds of thousands coming in unchecked. I was expecting him to be tough on crime. But the way it's being played out with that enforcement and the tactics is not what we voted for. No. No."

Over our 45-minute talk, Frometa described Trump's wanton deportation policy as "heartbreaking," "racial profiling," "problematic," "devastating" and "not what America stands for." The mayor said Republicans she knows feel "terrible" about it: "You cannot say you are pro-humanity and be OK with what's happening."

Asked if she was carrying a passport like many Latinos are — myself included — she said she was "almost" at that point.

Frometa defended her relative silence compared to other Latino elected officials over the matter.

"We live in a time that is so polarizing that people want their elected officials to come out fighting," she said. "And I think much more can be accomplished through different means."

Part of that is talking with other Southern California Republicans "at different levels within the party" about how best to tell the Trump administration to "change course and change fast," although she declined to offer details or names of other GOP members involved.

I concluded our interview by asking if she would vote for Trump again if she had the chance.

"It's a very hard — It's a hard question to answer," Frometa said with a sigh. "We want our communities to be treated fairly, and we want our communities to be treated humanely. Are they being treated that way right now? They're not. And I'm not OK with that."

So right now you don't know?

"Mm-hmm."

You better believe there's a lot more right-of-center Latinos right now thinking the same.

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