PERSPECTIVE ON THE LATINO COMMUNITY : ‘This Was About Something to Eat’ : Latinos were both protagonists and victims of the riots, despite the media’s stress on black/white conflict.

Judging from television and print coverage, an outsider could easily conclude that the Los Angeles riots were part of a race war between whites and blacks. But as the smoke clears, it is evident that Latinos were involved as both protagonists and victims of the violence that raged virtually unchecked for nearly 72 hours.

At the corner of Olympic and Blaine in the Pico-Union District, there used to be a department store called La Curacao. On the second day of the riots, dozens of cars screeched to a halt in front of the store; looters carried away whatever they could of appliances, furniture, TVs and stereos, clothes and toys. Later, someone ran into the store with a gallon of gasoline.

“This had nothing to do with Rodney King,” said a young mother who had watched a convenience store being looted by gangbangers, mothers and toddlers alike. “This was about trying to get something to eat for our kids.”

Why the Latino involvement in the riots? “The reasons are simple,” said Carlos Vaquerano of the Central American Refugee Center, whose offices are located in Pico-Union. “Here, just as much as in South-Central and Watts, there is an incredible amount of poverty--lack of jobs, shortage of housing. Add to that a gang and drug problem and complete lack of response from the government, and you have the recipe for social unrest.”

The story of Pico-Union and other Latino neighborhoods has been scarcely noted in press accounts of the violence. Grim statistics tell the story: Nearly half of the dead, 25, were African-Americans, followed by 19 Latinos and 10 Anglos. More Latinos (2,764) were arrested for curfew violations, looting and arson than African-Americans (2,022).

Hundreds of stores in Pico-Union (some community leaders estimate up to 1,000) fell prey to looting and arson, despite the desperate attempts of owners, who spray-painted the walls with “LATIN OWNED” or stood guard with weapons.

In the midst of the riots, the Latino barrios only a few blocks west of the gleaming downtown skyscrapers resembled San Salvador at the height of a rebel offensive. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of jobs were lost at the restaurants, clothing stores, markets and other places destroyed.

“The LAPD and the Border Patrol have been arresting many people without cause,” said Carlos Vaquerano of the refugee center. “Our people knew persecution firsthand in their home countries, and now they’re finding it here.” “We came seeking justice in this country, and what we’ve found is more injustice.”

“The cops are always pulling us over, just because we’re brown and poor,” said Jesse Santoya, a 17-year-old associated with the Mexican 18 Street gang. While Santoya spoke to a reporter, an LAPD black-and-white pulled up to the curb and ordered Santoya and his colleagues to line up to be frisked. One of the youths was quickly arrested and charged with arson.

Pico-Union, like several communities of South Los Angeles that are home to a rapidly increasing number of Latino immigrants, is a world apart from traditional Mexican-American neighborhoods of the city’s East Side. The newer areas have more Central Americans (primarily Salvadorans and Guatemalans) than Mexican-Americans. Most arrived in the United States within the last decade, mainly as refugees from the civil wars in Central America and the Mexican economic crisis of the early 1980s. And perhaps most critically, these immigrants live in ethnically mixed neighborhoods (Latino-Asian-black), where apartment buildings and businesses in the area are owned by “outsiders.” East Los Angeles, by contrast, is culturally homogeneous--Mexican-American--and indigenous ownership of property is the rule.

While many see the root of the violence in the widening gap between rich and poor, the riot played itself out most often along ethnic lines. In Pico-Union, as in African-American neighborhoods, “outsider-owned” stores, particularly those run by Korean-Americans, were the primary targets.

“Some Latinos complain about being treated with a lack of respect by the Korean merchants--not all of them, but some,” said Vaquerano. Many Latinos use the term chino for Asians, regardless of whether they are Japanese, Chinese or Thai, and ethnic jokes abound.

In South Los Angeles, there is the added element of Latino-black tensions. There were several incidents between the two groups last year at South Los Angeles high schools. Rifts have become apparent among the groups that make up the city’s Latino community as well. Latino political leaders--exclusively Mexican-American--were mostly silent in the wake of the violence.

“Because most Central Americans in Pico-Union aren’t citizens yet and don’t vote, there was this attitude that we didn’t count,” said Oscar Andrade, the director of El Rescate, another Pico-Union refugee center.

“What we’ve discovered is that there’s a tremendous conflict among ourselves,” said Los Angeles County Supervisor Gloria Molina. “By commending the residents of East L.A. for their restraint, we were attacking the (people of Pico-Union).”

“There was an acute unawareness of what the Latino family is composed of,” said state Sen. Art Torres (D-Los Angeles). “It’s not just Mexicans any more.”