Trump Blasts Minneapolis Mayor: ‘Playing With Fire’ Over Immigration Showdown

Paul Riverbank, 1/29/2026Minneapolis faces crisis as Trump and local leaders clash over immigration raids and community trust.

Not long after that, Tom Homan—dubbed the "Border Czar" by DC insiders—flew in, hoping to defuse what he called "a growing misunderstanding between local and federal agencies." Behind closed doors, Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey and Homan reportedly traded assurances, but the public-facing result was anything but conciliatory. “Our officers aren’t here to enforce federal immigration laws. End of story. We’re here for public safety,” Frey wrote on social media with a clarity that left no room for loopholes.

President Trump charged back with force, posting a rebuke on Truth Social before most reporters had even digested Frey’s statement: “Surprisingly, Mayor Jacob Frey just stated that, ‘Minneapolis does not, and will not, enforce Federal Immigration Laws.’ … this statement is a very serious violation of the Law, and that he is PLAYING WITH FIRE!” The differences between the two leaders—one trying to calm a frightened immigrant community, the other determined to push federal authority—had never been so stark and so public.

Frey doubled down in response, accusing federal priorities of being out of sync with the actual needs of residents. “It’s simple— our police officers should be preventing carjackings and homicides, not tracking down a landscaper who missed a court date in Ecuador. Even Rudy Giuliani understood that when running New York,” Frey retorted during a tense afternoon news scrum at City Hall. You could see the frustration in his posture; he left the lectern before the last question hung in the air.

Meanwhile, the state’s highest office didn’t mince words. After Pretti’s death, Governor Tim Walz vented on live television. “They started this fire,” he told a CNN anchor, “and we’re not interested in letting them claim credit for putting it out.” The Governor described the city’s atmosphere as “a siege in every sense,” alluding to the stories filtering out—elderly residents huddled in hallways, families torn apart, children asking why ICE agents were lining the sidewalks near their favorite playground.

President Trump, for his part, insisted afterward that talks with Frey and Walz were “very respectful, very nice calls.” Whether this was diplomacy or damage control would probably depend on which room you were sitting in.

Elsewhere, mayors from across the nation convened in D.C., their summit now framed by questions about Minneapolis. Even those who had previously felt untouched by the controversy weighed in. Elizabeth Kautz, a Republican mayor from nearby Burnsville, admitted that regular errands left her feeling uneasy. “ICE doesn’t know which of us they’re stopping, and suddenly, I’m thinking maybe I need to show ID just to buy groceries.” Her worry wasn’t theoretical—other city leaders confirmed getting calls from fearful constituents, unsure of where local authority ended and federal prerogative began.

The concern isn’t just about optics. David Holt, who currently heads the U.S. Conference of Mayors, laid into the issue with the sort of frankness rarely seen on cable news. “The truth is, what happens on the streets in Minnesota has every other mayor watching,” he told a reporter near the conference entrance. “If trust disappears from our communities, policing becomes riskier for everyone—it’s not just about immigration anymore.” Lincoln, Nebraska’s chief executive, Leirion Gaylor Baird, put it less diplomatically: “We need to know our folks can call 911 without having to worry if it’ll lead to deportation.”

There’s no neat resolution. Mayors in states as far away as California and Oklahoma echoed concern that locals view their police with suspicion when federal sweeps descend unannounced. Jerry Dryer, who went straight from police chief to mayor in Fresno, summarized the municipal dilemma simply: “Cities don’t ask for these operations. We can’t just send ICE packing. But every time our officers enter these neighborhoods, if we look like an occupying force, we lose.”

Back in Minneapolis, Frey hasn’t budged from his stance, despite White House warnings that assistance—resources, funding, even partnerships—might be on the table or off, depending on city compliance. And so, as politicians argue over policy, the sense on the street is of a city braced for what comes next, praying for a morning where headlines offer something less fraught. For now, as the sun sets over the Mississippi, residents in neighborhoods once considered ordinary lock doors and keep watch, as the debate over how laws are enforced rages louder than ever in memory.

Tension in Minneapolis has been almost physical since federal immigration agents started showing up across the city—something you could feel on the street even before you read the headlines or saw the cordoned-off intersections. After the shooting of Alex Pretti during an Immigration and Customs Enforcement raid, the city’s political climate veered into something nobody could ignore, not politicians, not community leaders, not the families who keep their blinds drawn a little tighter now.Not long after that, Tom Homan—dubbed the "Border Czar" by DC insiders—flew in, hoping to defuse what he called "a growing misunderstanding between local and federal agencies." Behind closed doors, Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey and Homan reportedly traded assurances, but the public-facing result was anything but conciliatory. “Our officers aren’t here to enforce federal immigration laws. End of story. We’re here for public safety,” Frey wrote on social media with a clarity that left no room for loopholes.President Trump charged back with force, posting a rebuke on Truth Social before most reporters had even digested Frey’s statement: “Surprisingly, Mayor Jacob Frey just stated that, ‘Minneapolis does not, and will not, enforce Federal Immigration Laws.’ … this statement is a very serious violation of the Law, and that he is PLAYING WITH FIRE!” The differences between the two leaders—one trying to calm a frightened immigrant community, the other determined to push federal authority—had never been so stark and so public.Frey doubled down in response, accusing federal priorities of being out of sync with the actual needs of residents. “It’s simple— our police officers should be preventing carjackings and homicides, not tracking down a landscaper who missed a court date in Ecuador. Even Rudy Giuliani understood that when running New York,” Frey retorted during a tense afternoon news scrum at City Hall. You could see the frustration in his posture; he left the lectern before the last question hung in the air.Meanwhile, the state’s highest office didn’t mince words. After Pretti’s death, Governor Tim Walz vented on live television. “They started this fire,” he told a CNN anchor, “and we’re not interested in letting them claim credit for putting it out.” The Governor described the city’s atmosphere as “a siege in every sense,” alluding to the stories filtering out—elderly residents huddled in hallways, families torn apart, children asking why ICE agents were lining the sidewalks near their favorite playground.President Trump, for his part, insisted afterward that talks with Frey and Walz were “very respectful, very nice calls.” Whether this was diplomacy or damage control would probably depend on which room you were sitting in.Elsewhere, mayors from across the nation convened in D.C., their summit now framed by questions about Minneapolis. Even those who had previously felt untouched by the controversy weighed in. Elizabeth Kautz, a Republican mayor from nearby Burnsville, admitted that regular errands left her feeling uneasy. “ICE doesn’t know which of us they’re stopping, and suddenly, I’m thinking maybe I need to show ID just to buy groceries.” Her worry wasn’t theoretical—other city leaders confirmed getting calls from fearful constituents, unsure of where local authority ended and federal prerogative began.The concern isn’t just about optics. David Holt, who currently heads the U.S. Conference of Mayors, laid into the issue with the sort of frankness rarely seen on cable news. “The truth is, what happens on the streets in Minnesota has every other mayor watching,” he told a reporter near the conference entrance. “If trust disappears from our communities, policing becomes riskier for everyone—it’s not just about immigration anymore.” Lincoln, Nebraska’s chief executive, Leirion Gaylor Baird, put it less diplomatically: “We need to know our folks can call 911 without having to worry if it’ll lead to deportation.”There’s no neat resolution. Mayors in states as far away as California and Oklahoma echoed concern that locals view their police with suspicion when federal sweeps descend unannounced. Jerry Dryer, who went straight from police chief to mayor in Fresno, summarized the municipal dilemma simply: “Cities don’t ask for these operations. We can’t just send ICE packing. But every time our officers enter these neighborhoods, if we look like an occupying force, we lose.”Back in Minneapolis, Frey hasn’t budged from his stance, despite White House warnings that assistance—resources, funding, even partnerships—might be on the table or off, depending on city compliance. And so, as politicians argue over policy, the sense on the street is of a city braced for what comes next, praying for a morning where headlines offer something less fraught. For now, as the sun sets over the Mississippi, residents in neighborhoods once considered ordinary lock doors and keep watch, as the debate over how laws are enforced rages louder than ever in memory.