Corruption “feels like a betrayal.” What motivates U.S. Attorney E. Martin Estrada to go after the bad guys

In mid-January, U.S. Attorney E. Martin Estrada stood before a cluster of microphones, followed by a phalanx of prosecutors. Their dark faces matched their boss’s, even though the group was celebrating.

A federal judge has sentenced former Los Angeles City Councilman Jose Huizar to 13 years in prison for his role in a vast corruption scheme that continues to taint Los Angeles politics.

To English-language media, Estrada — dressed in a smart gray suit with a U.S. Department of Justice pin attached to his lapel — criticized Huizar for abusing “his power to use City Hall as his personal ATM”. His remarks in Spanish were not as long, but harsher.

“José Huizar,” he said in a deep, deliberate voice, “traicionó a su propio pueblo» – betrayed his own people. Estrada had not used this phrase in English.

Since becoming U.S. Attorney for the Central District of California in fall 2022, Estrada, 46, has overseen one case after another that has made headlines. Convictions for civic corruption scandals in Los Angeles and Anaheim. A lawsuit against City National Bank that resulted in a $31 million settlement over allegations it avoided lending to buyers in black and Latino neighborhoods. Charges against white supremacists for inciting riots during protests. Investigations into illegal gambling rings, with the name of Los Angeles Dodgers superstar Shohei Ohtani recently surfacing. (Ohtani claims his former interpreter stole money transferred from his bank account to a bookmaker.)

Estrada leads the nation’s most populous federal judicial district, with more than 25 million residents spread across seven Southern California counties. He is the public face of American law in the region. Hearing him code-switch so easily – conveying the same message differently depending on the audience – struck me as bold but clever. What kind of food was hip enough to make that?

I caught up with Estrada shortly after the press conference to ask him why he decided to be more specific. in Spanish.

“This is extremely personal for the Latino community,” Estrada responded, as he rushed to speak at a UCLA Law School symposium on hate crimes. “We have seen this kind of behavior too often in our home countries. We fled this corruption, and see someone behave in this matter feels like a betrayal.

I reminded him of that conversation last month in his spacious 12th-floor office in the old federal courthouse in downtown Los Angeles. A bowl of Trader Joe’s dark chocolate cups sat in the center of the table where we sat; his standing desk was behind us. Newspaper and magazine articles on the walls chronicling his career as a federal prosecutor and private attorney competed for space with fine art prints, photos of heroes like Dolores Huerta, and shelves filled with commemorative mugs of the exhausting Baker stint in Vegas, which he managed until recently. .

“We’ve done great work for Southern California, important work for Southern California,” Estrada said, referring to Huizar’s conviction. He is of average height and his demeanor is as tense as his bleached, lacquered haircut. “Quite often the DOJ likes to operate in the dark. And there’s a lot of mystery within the Department of Justice, but it’s important that people know that we’re here to serve as a check.

He was born in Brooklyn to parents who fled poverty and a repressive government in Guatemala. The family regularly returned to the Central American country to visit relatives – and during one of those vacations, they were robbed at gunpoint.

“We immediately went to the police station, and they just laughed and laughed about the whole thing,” he recalls. “We don’t have a perfect system (in the United States). But we have law enforcement that cares and wants to protect people. And it was essential for me to see the difference (with) here.

The Estradas eventually moved to Costa Mesa. In seventh grade, Estrada watched Ken Burns’ Civil War documentary series for a school project, but got an F after a teacher accused him of plagiarism. At Mater Dei, a teacher wouldn’t let him take AP history despite his straight A’s, saying he wouldn’t pass.

“It gives you a little tap on the shoulder,” he admitted. “But every time you get these rejections, every time you question people, you see it as an opportunity to prove them wrong.”

Estrada turned to law while a student at UC Irvine, after volunteering for the Legal Aid Society and realizing that “you can help people in their most difficult times” in the courtroom. He didn’t even know what a U.S. attorney did until he landed a summer job in the office’s Santa Ana branch while he was studying at Stanford Law School. He helped prepare motions for a successful corruption case against former Santa Ana council member Ted Moreno and another case in which a Latino gang continued to block black people from using a park.

“I remember writing a memo on civil rights and thinking, ‘This is exactly the kind of work I should be doing,’” Estrada said.

Throughout his career, he oscillated between the U.S. Attorney’s Office and private practice, focusing on organized crime in the former and civil rights in the latter. His most important private matter involved the fight for Bruce’s Beach, a Manhattan Beach coastal property taken from a black couple more than a century ago.

As lead attorney for descendants of the original owners, Estrada helped defeat a lawsuit seeking to block Los Angeles County from returning the property to his clients. This groundbreaking case inspired actions across the United States to try to right similar historical wrongs.

While the Bruce’s Beach trial was going on, the Hispanic National Bar Assn. contacted Estrada in early 2022 to gauge his interest in serving as the region’s U.S. Attorney.

“And the first thing I thought,” Estrada said with a straight face and tone, “was kind of like the line from ‘Wayne’s World’: ‘I’m not worthy of this.'”

His lawyers suggested he withdraw from the Bruce’s Beach case because “it might upset people,” he recalled. “But I said, ‘This is too important to worry about politics.’ Let the chips fall where they may.'”

President Joe Biden nominated Estrada to lead the Central District of California in June 2022; the US Senate unanimously confirmed him three months later. Estrada is the first American lawyer of Guatemalan descent in the country.

He welcomes “the idea that there are additional responsibilities, there are additional obligations” as a Latino in such a powerful position. One of the first cases assigned to him as an assistant U.S. attorney was the extradition of suspects in the murder of Enrique “Kiki” Camarena, an undercover DEA agent tortured to death in Mexico in 1985.

“I was one of the few Latinos, one of the few (in the office) who could speak Spanish,” Estrada said. “What I also remember is that it is a sad commentary on the diversity of the legal profession. You know, the new guy is the one who’s there because they don’t know anyone else. So it’s an important point for me that our office more accurately reflects the beautiful diversity of Southern California.

Assistant Atty. Gen. Kristen Clarke, right, and U.S. Attorney. E. Martin Estrada announces proposed settlement of government’s lending discrimination lawsuit against City National Bank.

(Irfan Khan/Los Angeles Times)

We talked about his desire to double down on environmental crimes, consumer protection, civil rights and white supremacist groups in Southern California (“They’re so sophisticated, they use things like the dark web, s “attack children, manipulate children’s minds to get them on their side,” he said of white supremacists.)

But what interested me most was civic corruption. While emphasizing that he does not view Los Angeles as more corrupt than other cities, Estrada criticized what he sees as a political culture that has allowed elected officials to accumulate power “in a somewhat uncontrolled manner.” He mentioned Huizar and Mark Ridley-Thomas, the Los Angeles political heavyweight sentenced last summer to 3 1/2 years in prison for fraud and corruption. (Ridley-Thomas is appealing his conviction).

“If you let these kinds of things fester, they will grow and can destroy democracy,” Estrada said. “(The law) must apply to everyone. And if the powerful, whether politicians or business leaders, are able to do things that others cannot do, that creates cynicism.”

Are there any other political corruption cases pending in the Los Angeles area?

He started to answer, smiled then stopped. “We will continue to be vigilant in this area,” he finally replied.

I had to ask!

Does Estrada consider himself a crusader?

“I wouldn’t use that term,” he said, then thought for a moment. “I would say I’m a Southern California kid. It means a lot to me to do what is right for my people. And that’s why I do this work.

At the end of our hour, I asked what message he had for Southern Californians.

“I’m here for you.”

What about the bad guys?

“We are a very resourceful, organized and sophisticated office. We’re tracking down some of the most dangerous actors in this neighborhood. You may not know it, but we track it. We investigate quietly, but when we charge, we are aggressive and we ensure that all those responsible are held accountable. »

Let the chips fall where they may.