Trump's Immigration Crackdown Hits a Wall of Local Resistance

3,000 federal agents flooded into Minnesota, but local officials are refusing to cooperate. What was supposed to be a showcase of Trump's mass deportation strategy has instead exposed the limits of federal power when states and cities push back.

The Charm Offensive That Isn't Working

Tom Homan, Trump's "border czar," arrived in Minnesota this week with a markedly different tone than his predecessor. Gone was the militaristic approach; in came talk of "commonsense cooperation" and promises to draw down the massive federal presence if locals would just work with him.

The meetings were cordial. Both sides called them productive. But beneath the diplomatic pleasantries lies a chasm of distrust that may be impossible to bridge.

The deaths of Renee Good and Alex Pretti at the hands of federal agents changed everything. What followed—Trump administration attempts to denigrate the victims and obstruct local investigations—shattered whatever goodwill remained between federal and local authorities.

Paul Schnell, Minnesota's corrections commissioner, didn't mince words: "One of the things that was exceedingly frustrating was the fact that they were putting out information that was just utterly and completely untrue."

When Numbers Don't Add Up

The Department of Homeland Security claimed Minnesota was routinely releasing violent criminals onto the streets, justifying the deployment of thousands of agents. But Schnell's department was forced to create a webpage titled "Combatting DHS Misinformation" to set the record straight.

The math simply doesn't work. DHS claimed there were over 1,360 inmates with ICE detainers in Minnesota. Yet Schnell says the entire state prison system houses only about 270 noncitizen inmates—less than 3 percent of the total 8,000 prisoners.

"You're talking about the worst of the worst; and then you send your 3,000 agents into schools and hospitals and churches and small businesses?" Schnell asked. "Is that really where the worst of the worst are at?"

The question cuts to the heart of the operation's credibility problem. Federal agents have swept up refugees, children, and U.S. citizens with no criminal records—hardly the "worst of the worst" Trump promised to target.

Trust, Once Broken

Lucy Gerold, who served as a Minneapolis police officer for more than 30 years, found herself witnessing a federal immigration operation firsthand. What she saw stunned her: agents arriving in six unmarked cars who failed to secure the scene or control traffic flow, creating chaos as protesters, moving vehicles, and armed agents mixed together.

"Trust has been breached, and I don't think you can get that back," she told reporters. Her assessment reflects a broader sentiment among local law enforcement officials who question whether they want to be associated with operations that appear "disjointed, unprofessional, and hostile."

Minneapolis Police Chief Brian O'Hara put it bluntly: it's "potentially damaging to the legitimacy of law enforcement" for his officers to be seen cooperating with a federal operation that many residents view as an invasion.

The Wall of Local Resistance

Minneapolis recently strengthened its "separation ordinance," which requires the city to "vigorously oppose" any efforts to support federal immigration enforcement. The ordinance specifically prohibits cooperation with federal agents who "lack clear agency identification" or are "masked or otherwise concealing their identities."

The language isn't subtle: such enforcement would be "contrary to the values of the city and harmful to the trust and public safety of city residents."

Mayor Jacob Frey and Governor Tim Walz may have had "productive" meetings with Homan, but they're not budging on policy. Walz accused federal agents of "unconstitutional profiling" and told reporters, "I'm not sure I can do much more."

Keith Ellison, the state attorney general, was even more direct. Hours after Homan suggested Ellison had agreed to more cooperation, the AG released a statement declaring: "We will not make any concessions or compromises to undermine our state sovereignty."

The President's Mixed Messages

Just hours after Homan promised a "significant reduction" of federal forces if locals cooperated, Trump undercut his own border czar. Asked at a movie premiere whether he planned to pull back in Minnesota, the president was unequivocal: "No, no, not at all."

The contradiction reveals the administration's strategic confusion. Trump wants the optics of mass deportation numbers, but also wants local cooperation that would make operations smoother and less controversial. You can't have both when your approach has alienated the very partners you need.

The Broader Stakes

This standoff isn't just about immigration—it's about the fundamental balance of power in American federalism. Trump's poll numbers are sliding, and dysfunction plagues his deportation team. Some Minnesota residents see cutting a deal now as an "ill-timed surrender."

Mary Moriarty, the Hennepin County attorney, framed it starkly: "The only time this situation will de-escalate is when the federal occupying force ends its siege. They are the escalating factor, and they have been this entire time."

Meanwhile, federal agents continue arresting journalists and protesters, further inflaming tensions. The Justice Department has opened an investigation into Pretti's death, but local officials remain frustrated by DHS's unwillingness to cooperate with their own investigations.