Imagine a world where fear keeps children from school and neighbors vanish without a trace— that's the harsh reality sparked by aggressive immigration policies, and Chicago's bold stand against it offers powerful lessons for anyone fighting back against injustice everywhere.
Back in early 2025, the Trump administration upended a long-standing agreement that protected sensitive places like schools, churches, and hospitals from Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) operations—think of ICE as the federal agency tasked with enforcing immigration laws, often through raids and detentions. This shift led to heartbreaking scenes: educators noticing up to a third of their students missing from class because terrified parents hesitated to let them out of sight. In response, community volunteers stepped up, escorting kids safely to and from school to ease those worries.
In Chicago's vibrant Rogers Park neighborhood, everyday residents have banded together to push back against these intimidating ICE raids. Their methods are often straightforward and peaceful, like deliberately slowing down agents by calmly stepping into their path. Just last month, for instance, around 50 locals hurried to a nearby church after hearing that ICE agents were lurking outside, trapping the worshippers inside—they formed a human barrier to shield the group. One of their most clever and inspiring strategies involves whistles: short, specific signals alert the community when a suspicious convoy might be ICE heading their way, with a different pattern confirming it's them for real. These alerts have saved countless undocumented immigrants from unwittingly driving straight into danger, which is incredibly motivating. Yet, the group also witnesses gut-wrenching moments daily: abandoned cars with doors ajar, untouched by thieves but emptied of their drivers; hardworking landscapers pulled from ladders mid-job and handcuffed. In fact, earlier this month, the Protect Rogers Park initiative fielded a staggering 1,500 calls in a single day from people seeking help or sharing sightings.
And this kind of community solidarity isn't unique to Chicago; folks worldwide rally when they see their neighbors being taken away against their will. For a deeper dive, check out this Guardian article on similar resistance in the UK (https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2022/jul/07/i-dont-want-to-live-in-a-society-where-people-are-kidnapped-from-their-homes-the-neighbours-fighting-immigration-raids). You can picture parallel efforts on Kenmore Street in Glasgow or in London's Peckham, where residents encircled government vans, refusing to budge until the detained individuals were freed and the vehicles drove off empty-handed.
I first learned about the Rogers Park efforts through an episode of the acclaimed true-crime podcast 'Criminal' (https://thisiscriminal.com/episode-339-rogers-park-11-7-2025/), which has been captivating listeners for over ten years with tales spanning the eerie to the downright odd. Each story kicks off with host Phoebe Judge's signature introduction—'I'm Phoebe Judge'—delivered with an almost theatrical flair that grabs you right away, like she's unveiling a magic trick. But in this particular episode, it begs the question: just who is the 'criminal' here?
From the outset, it's clear she's not pointing fingers at the whistleblowers or the protectors—yet it takes a moment for that realization to sink in. She's subtly framing the federal government itself as the perpetrator. But here's where it gets controversial: implying that the U.S. government is engaging in unlawful acts is a massive claim, especially given Trump's reputation for suing media outlets left and right. More profoundly, it's a chilling thought—what happens when the very authority meant to uphold the law starts breaking it? Does that erode trust in all laws? How do you even distinguish between participating in society and merely surviving it under such shadows? 'Criminal' handles these themes with meticulous detail and a calm demeanor, standing out in a media landscape where ICE stories often stick to cold stats—like arrest numbers or the grim conditions in detention centers—while glossing over the stark truth: these are essentially abductions happening in plain sight.
To unpack this further, let's turn to philosopher Hannah Arendt's concept of 'Gleichschaltung,' which literally means 'bringing into line' or 'synchronization.' Coined by Nazi official Franz Gürtner, it described how a totalitarian regime forces every corner of society—politics, culture, schools, even daily life—to align perfectly with its agenda. For beginners, think of it like a giant machine where all parts must spin in unison, or the whole thing grinds to a halt; it relies on ordinary people's quiet compliance, from ignoring red flags at work to rationalizing away obvious wrongs just to fit in with the crowd. And this is the part most people miss: such control doesn't come from outright force alone but from the everyday choices that keep the majority on board.
This dynamic traps many in the Democratic Party right now—they might share compelling charts (https://bsky.app/profile/chrismurphyct.bsky.social/post/3m6jzvcchjs24) proving that most people swept up in these raids aren't criminals at all, but they stop short of calling the mass detention of 65,000 individuals (https://cbsaustin.com/news/nation-world/record-65000-immigrants-detained-as-ice-ramps-up-daily-raids-across-us-cities-dhs-deporations-trump) what it is: a slide toward authoritarianism. Part of this hesitation stems from a gradual 'boiling frog' scenario, where changes happen so slowly they're hard to notice until it's too late. ICE itself was created in 2003 under President George W. Bush in the wake of 9/11 to bolster border security; even Barack Obama oversaw plenty of deportations during his terms. Sure, the current surge in detainees might shatter previous records, and the relentless ICE presence is exhausting communities across America, but when Trump entered office in January, there were already nearly 40,000 people in custody. No dramatic announcement signals when democracy starts morphing into something darker—it's more like a quiet drift.
But it's not just evasion; humans naturally gravitate toward the crowd for safety. Anthropologist Michael Maccoby, in his 2007 book 'The Leaders We Need,' referenced studies by psychologist Erich Fromm from Nazi-era Germany, noting starkly that only about 15% of people actively opposed the regime. It wasn't fervent loyalty or immediate terror that kept the rest in line at first—it was simply following the herd, a survival instinct that prioritizes blending in over rocking the boat.
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Now, the U.S. is pushing this tough-on-migrants stance abroad, as revealed in a peculiar New York Times report on memos from Senator Marco Rubio instructing U.S. diplomats in Europe to frequently press host countries on 'violent crimes linked to migrants' (https://www.nytimes.com/2025/11/26/us/politics/trump-rubio-mass-migration.html). Odd as that push feels, the real universal takeaway from Rogers Park—and the way Protect Rogers Park shares their stories—isn't tied to any one policy; it's a call that resonates globally.
Don't hold off on speaking out until your own community sees workers yanked from their jobs or children grabbed en route to class. Each time leaders spew xenophobic rhetoric or subtle racism and you pause to check public opinion polls before calling it out, you're helping swell that conforming majority—one that could drown out real resistance when the stakes are highest. As Olly Knowles from the activist group Led By Donkeys put it during an autumn event, 'The time to fight fascism isn't five minutes to midnight'—and he believes the UK isn't quite there yet. An audience member quipped, 'What time is it, then?' It landed as a laugh because it's such a subjective gauge, more art than science, without a precise clock. Yet, with every new anti-immigrant proposal, speech, or trial balloon, that's the vital question: How close are we? Waiting until five to midnight? That's cutting it way too close.
What do you think—have we already passed that point in your country, or is there still time to act? Share your views in the comments below; I'd love to hear if you agree that early resistance is key or if you see it differently.
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Zoe Williams is a Guardian columnist
