On Friday, September 22, a group of several hundred people in Albuquerque peacefully marched downtown to protest police brutality against people of color in America. Though the event was planned well in advance, the timing couldn’t have been more appropriate. Just a few days earlier, yet another a white police officer was acquitted in the killing of a black motorist in St. Louis. When Black Lives Matter (BLM) activists protested the acquittal, St. Louis police in riot gear forcibly dispersed the protesters while mocking them with chants of, “Whose streets? Our streets!”—a co-opting of an iconic BLM slogan that emerged out the Ferguson protests three years earlier.

The Albuquerque Black Lives Matter protest was set to kick off at 6pm, with participants gathering downtown at 1^st and Central. The group planned to march down Central to 8^th Street and rally near Robinson Park. The organizers made it very clear that this would be a peaceful protest, and safety coordinators in fluorescent yellow vests stood ready to help deescalate any situations involving antagonistic bystanders or outside agitators.

During the protest, the Albuquerque Police Department (APD) did a good job of rerouting traffic away from the protesters and keeping a respectful distance to avoid any unnecessary conflicts with the protesters. However, the actions that the city took in preparation for the protest constituted a gross overreaction to a fairly routine political demonstration that promised no unusual risks. In advance of the protest, APD sent a letter to business owners and property managers near the demonstration’s route, which reportedly warned—without justification—that the protesters might break windows and damage property along the route. On her way to the protest, one of the speakers at the rally even overheard a police officer refer to the BLM event as a “riot.”

In a continuation of its alarmist stance towards the protest, the City shut down government offices at 3pm, all of which were several blocks away from the planned route of the march. One of the buildings shuttered was the City Clerk’s office which contained early voting location where municipal elections are currently underway. Shutting down an early voting location three hours before closing because of a peaceful political protest half a mile away is an overreaction that cost some citizens their opportunity to vote on Friday.

The ability to freely assemble and protest in public spaces is a cornerstone of our democracy. Indeed, it is difficult to imagine any of the social movements of the last 100 years succeeding without protest. Yes, the police should take reasonable actions to facilitate the protection of people and property during protests, but that typically does not entail shutting down the government or scaring restaurants into shuttering their businesses. (After all, protesters eat too!)

At the core of all this is an ugly assumption that a protest organized by black people would somehow be more prone to violence or vandalism. This racist stereotype, the idea that black people are more likely to be violent or commit crimes, is the reason police brutalize and kill black people at wildly disproportionate rates. Which of course was the very thing people were there to protest last week. This kind of implicit racism only serves to weaken an already fragile relationship between police and marginalized communities here in Albuquerque.

The past several years have seen a surge in the frequency and size of protests, and for good reason. In the dozens of protests that have been held in Albuquerque in that time, incidents of property damage or violence have been exceedingly rare and committed by just a few isolated agitators. The default assumption for police should be that—unless the organizers advertise differently—a protest will be a peaceful event. That did not happen last week, and one cannot help but think the color of the organizers’ skin affected the city’s posture.

In a democracy, one of the indispensable principles is the notion that no person is above the law. This precept is the great stabilizer of nations and provides the foundation for rule of law in the land. When all people are held accountable to the same set of rules, abuse and tyranny are minimized and even the least powerful among us have access to justice.

But with the pardoning of Sheriff Joe Arpaio on August 25th, President Trump trampled on this core principle and told the world in no uncertain terms that he believes some people in the United States are indeed above the law.

You are likely familiar with Arpaio, whose infamous tenure as Sheriff of Maricopa County, Arizona was defined by systematic racial discrimination, cruelty, and wanton disregard for the law. These pages are too few to provide a full accounting of his unlawful conduct, but here is a brief overview:

Arpaio ordered his deputies to target Latinos and other minorities in traffic stops, workplace raids, and neighborhood sweeps, often illegally detaining them without reasonable suspicion that they had violated any laws. These racially motivated, pretextual stops were used as a way to screen the immigration status of people who were perceived to be “foreign.”

In the Maricopa County Jail, Arpaio erected a tent city outdoors surrounded by an electric fence which he proudly compared to a “concentration camp” where he kept “all the Mexicans.” Temperatures inside the tents regularly exceeded 120 degrees during the summer, and inmates were forced to work in chain gangs reminiscent of the Jim Crow era.

He was so obsessed with targeting undocumented immigrants that he neglected to investigate sex crimes, including abuse against children.

In 2007, the ACLU filed a class action lawsuit against Arpaio alleging that he was using racially biased policing to illegally enforce federal immigration law. The ACLU prevailed and a federal court ordered Arpaio to cease these illegal activities in 2011. However, Arpaio deliberately allowed these practices to continue unabated, and even bragged to the media that he had no intention of changing his ways. This led to a civil contempt proceeding and ultimately a criminal conviction for contempt of court, carrying a sentence of up to six months in prison. His sentencing was set for October 6th this year.

And now, because of Trump’s pardon, the countless families tormented by this man’s 24 year reign of terror will not have justice. But even beyond that, Trump’s pardon of Arpaio sends a message loud and clear that if rogue law enforcement agencies wish to enforce federal immigration law, target people of color, or commit wholesale violations of constitutional rights, they may do so with impunity.

This has chilling implications for New Mexico and other border states. How many wannabe Arpaios lurking in the wings will be emboldened to follow his lead now that they see that racially discriminatory policing bears the presidential seal of approval?

Fortunately, the ACLU of New Mexico has spent the better part of a decade advocating against the unholy alliance of local police and the federal immigration law enforcement here in our state. Many of our largest communities have repudiated the Arpaio model of policing and enacted immigrant-friendly policies that build trust and cooperation between local police and immigrant communities. But that does not give us license to rest on our laurels.

It remains incumbent upon us all to remain vigilant and ensure that Arpaio’s brand of racist, authoritarian policing finds no purchase in our communities. If you hear about local law enforcement cooperating in federal immigration raids or checkpoints, be sure to alert us here at the ACLU of New Mexico. Because despite whatever Trump might say or do, we still believe that no person is above the law. And we intend to keep it that way.