Reflections on Graffiti From the LA Anti-ICE Protests

Almost every major contemporary protest in the United States is accompanied by illegal graffiti and street art. The recent (June 2025) demonstrations against the presence and activities of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) officers in Los Angeles (not to mention the deployment of 700 National Guardsmen) are no different. The Trump administration has pointed to the defacement of federal property as justification for deploying federal agents, adding another layer of political consequence to the use of graffiti and street art.

Meanwhile, graffiti and street art is hardly a new phenomenon in Los Angeles. The city has a deeply rooted graffiti culture. Scholars like Susan A. Phillips, in her book The City Beneath: A Century of Los Angeles Graffiti, have chronicled its evolution over the past century, noting how this kind of public writing in the city has ranged from hobos to soldiers, to territorial tagging. Graffiti writers like Chaz Bojórquez, CISCO, Hex TGO, Slick, OG Slick, Risk, and Tempt One have become synonymous with LA’s graffiti legacy.

In general, when examining this kind of urban public art, several interrelated questions arise: What is the context? Who is creating it? What are their targets? What types of graffiti or street art are present? Where is it located? What messages does it convey? And how have audiences responded? Together, these questions can help us identify patterns and draw meaningful conclusions.

Keep in mind that not all of these questions can be answered immediately, especially in a blog post like this one. Depending on the significance of a case study, it’s often necessary to do a more formal street ethnography.

Who is doing this and against what entity is the graffiti directed?

Determining who specifically engages in graffiti and street art is challenging. In simplest terms, the perpetrators of graffiti (and occasional street art) in Los Angeles (and elsewhere), likely include protesters themselves, particularly those angered by the Trump administration’s renewed emphasis on immigration enforcement, the visual and visceral displays of police power, and federal law enforcement in sanctuary cities.

In addition to ICE, the content of the graffiti has been directed towards Mayor Karen Bass and President Trump.

Where has it been placed?

Predictably, the graffiti was geographically concentrated downtown, near the epicenter of the protest. This included federal buildings, civic landmarks, historic structures, and urban infrastructure. The majority of the graffiti could be seen on or close to the federal building where ICE detainees are located, the Edward Roybal Federal Building, and the Department of Homeland Security/ICE building.

Graffiti was applied not just to the prominent federal buildings, but it was also placed on the walls of Fletcher Bowron Square, the Los Angeles County Law Library, and the former Los Angeles Times building.

Highway overpasses were also marked with graffiti, and many small businesses were similarly hit. And, when plywood was installed over windows of buildings to prevent breakage, it inadvertently created fresh canvases for graffiti artists.

One of the more visually arresting images was the graffiti-laden Waymo cars that were also set on fire.

What was the content?

The graffiti was directed at several figures and institutions. Most of the pieces are what would be considered expletive-laden wall writing or sloganeering directed towards ICE, the Los Angeles Police Department, and Trump. In the first instance, there has been multiple Fuck ICE, and “Death 2 ICE.” visible on surfaces.

Other graffiti was aimed at President Trump, such as “Remove Trumps head!!” “Trump is scum” and predictably “Kill Trump.”

Meanwhile, some pro-migrant statements could be seen across downtown Los Angeles such as “Return the homies,” and “Immigrants rule the world.”

On social media, we saw photos of a whole train painted with the slogan “Fuck ICE” that was sitting untouched for days. While much of this graffiti leaned toward aggressive sloganeering, it reflects a broader language of confrontation rather than nuanced symbolism.

Interpreting the Visual Landscape

Besides the graffiti, the Anti-ICE protests in Los Angeles were highly visual. From the clothing worn by demonstrators, to the signs carried, to the burned-out Waymo autonomous vehicles. These elements contributed to an almost post-apocalyptic urban atmosphere that resembled a scene from Blade Runner.

While most of the graffiti was text-based, its form and materiality are relevant. The boldness of the lettering, where it was placed, and its juxtaposition against the concrete surfaces of downtown Los Angeles create a unique visceral aesthetic. These elements contributed to a confrontation with the symbols of power and authority used to govern.

If protest graffiti evolves in stages, then the June 2025 actions represent an early, expressive phase. For now, much of the visual language is text-heavy and emotionally charged, rather than graphically sophisticated. However, as the movement matures, we may witness an expansion in participants and locations, not to mention the form (i.e., more street art), styles, and strategy, incorporating unique iconography.

All in all, the visual landscape of the June 2025 protests demands a broader interpretation, as part of a longer continuum of visual resistance. From Covid-related graffiti to the anti-Russian invasion of Ukraine urban art, graffiti, and street art is a mix of urban expression, and a way to document contemporary history.

The graffiti that emerges during these urban protests is not simply defacement, it is an expression of resistance that is visible (often ephemerally) in spaces designed to suppress it.

It signals not just anger, but solidarity, and ideological positions to others. It is also territorial because it momentarily redefines ownership, purpose, and meaning in spaces of power.

Whether these markings will linger or be co-opted is unknown.

But what is clear is that this moment reflects and reinforces the importance of visual politics in urban public space, one in which protest graffiti is not marginal, but central.