Yet for many years, Parker’s comments on race had a certain balance: He criticized civil disobedience but also disdained the “pseudoscience” of racism. He foresaw a time when “assimilation” would remove racial conflicts. But as the 1960s progressed, any sense of balance fell away. Bill Parker had denied that blacks in Los Angeles experienced racism in any significant way. Now he actively played on white fears of black and brown violence to rally support for the police department.
“It is estimated that by 1970,” he told viewers of ABC’s
Given such comments, it is hardly surprising that Chief Parker’s relationship with his critics did not improve. Back in Los Angeles at a city council meeting in September, Councilman Bradley attempted to pin down Parker on the “shadowy organization” that Parker constantly (albeit elliptically) referred to in his talks about the Watts riots.
“Can you identify the organization?” Bradley asked the chief.
“I have my suspicions,” replied Parker. Then he turned the question around on Bradley. “Perhaps you can. You’re closer to those people.”
PARKER’S combative appearances belied his fragile health. That October, he returned to the Mayo Clinic, this time for heart surgery. In his absence, the department took a few small steps toward a less combative posture, assigning African American lieutenants to five critical divisions (Public Information, Newton, 77th Street, University, and Wilshire) to serve as community relations officers. But when rumors began to circulate that Parker might be about to retire, Yorty urged him to return to the job.
On December 2, 1965, the day before Parker was scheduled to return to Los Angeles, the Governor’s Commission on the Los Angeles Riots, which was known simply as the McCone Commission, issued its report. Written largely by commission vice chairman Warren Christopher, it attempted to tack between the two camps. The rioting was dismissed as the handiwork of a disgruntled few, not a mass uprising driven by legitimate concerns. As to whether the LAPD’s style of policing was to blame for the outbreak of violence, the McCone Commission report was coy. It reported “evidences [of] a deep and longstanding schism between a substantial portion of the Negro community and the Police Department,” and mentioned the frequent complaints of “police brutality” (a phrase the report placed in prophylactic quotation marks, lest the commission be accused of confirming that such things occurred). The report also noted that “generally speaking, the Negro community does not harbor the same angry feeling toward the Sheriff or his staff as it does toward the Los Angeles police.” Indeed, the McCone Commission correctly observed that “Chief of Police Parker appears to be the focal point of the criticism within the Negro community.”
“He is a man distrusted by most Negroes,” the report continued. “Many Negroes feel that he carries a deep hatred of the Negro community.”
But the commission raised these issues only to dismiss them. “Chief Parker’s statements to us and collateral evidence such as his record of fairness to Negro officers are inconsistent with his having such an attitude,” the commission declared. “Despite the depth of feeling against Chief Parker … he is recognized, even by many of his most vocal critics, as a capable Chief who directs an efficient police force that serves well this entire community.” This, of course, was precisely the proposition that many African Americans rejected. Christopher concluded the section on the policing with the Parkeresque declaration: “Our society is held together by respect for law.” The police, it continued, were “the thin thread” that bound our society together. “If police authority is destroyed… chaos might easily result.” The commission also echoed Parker’s rhetoric about the civil rights movement: “Throughout the nation unpunished violence and disobedience to law were widely reported and almost daily there were exhortations here and elsewhere to take the most extreme and illegal remedies to right a wide variety of wrongs, real and supposed.”