Trump Blocks Low-Income Housing in Wealthy LA—Vows to Protect Property Values

Paul Riverbank, 1/30/2026Trump blocks low-income housing in Pacific Palisades, fueling a fierce federal-state post-wildfire standoff.

“Not on my watch,” Trump insisted during a meeting that, by all accounts, turned tense when the prospect of affordable housing near multimillion-dollar homes came up. The president—known for plain talk and, as he reminded everyone, a background in real estate—didn’t hold back. “I’m not going to let these people destroy the value of their houses,” he said, gesturing at his gathered officials. “We’re not going to be the reason property values collapse.”

For Trump, it's all about keeping prices buoyant for current homeowners—a view he repeats often. As he put it: “If you own property, you’ve worked hard for it. You don’t want the bottom to fall out because of a government experiment.” He even claimed a bit of moral authority, noting, “I’ve built low-income housing myself and done well at it,” before drawing a hard boundary: not here, not now.

The orders that followed were swift. President Trump told his team to fast-track rebuilding generally for areas hit by wildfires, but instructed both the EPA and Treasury to steer clear of supporting any subsidized developments in the Palisades. To some, that’s classic Trump—muscle the red tape aside, but on his terms.

California Governor Gavin Newsom wasted no time pushing back, releasing an unusually pointed statement. The state’s $101 million in recovery funds, Newsom’s office said, are earmarked to help all disaster victims, not simply wealthy neighborhoods reluctant to change. “Aid is going where families need it, from Altadena to Malibu,” the statement read in part, emphasizing that affordable rental units, built to survive the next fire, are at the center of the state’s plans.

Pacific Palisades was hard-hit when wildfires swept through. The flames destroyed thousands of homes and forced as many families to scatter, some landing in temporary rentals, motels, or with relatives miles away. Many of those homes weren’t luxury mansions, but places owned for decades by regular folks. “We owe it to them to help,” Newsom stressed, alluding to families clinging to hope of returning.

But here’s where the clash becomes more than policy—it’s politics and perception. Trump accuses the state of dragging its feet with permitting and paperwork, while state officials say Washington is the real holdup. A lengthy post from Newsom’s team even claimed, “The Feds need to release funding—not micromanage which projects get green-lit.” They pointed to billions needed for rebuilding, money they say is getting mired in politics.

As is often the case, both sides are talking past each other. Trump believes what he’s doing is protecting “hard-working homeowners,” and he doesn’t apologize for favoring policies that keep the upscale Palisades just the way it is. In private, he’s reportedly told aides not to be shy about taking credit if federal recovery dollars speed things up—though he’s convinced local officials will try to grab the spotlight at the ribbon-cutting anyway.

Newsom, meanwhile, sees no way around the region’s housing crisis without building back in a way that is affordable to everybody touched by the fires, not just the wealthy. His strategy, as described by his staff, leans toward multi-family construction and long-term affordability guarantees, a model with supporters and detractors alike.

Stand outside the burned foundations in the Palisades this week, and echoes of that debate hang in the air. Longtime residents worry about what comes next—some clutching copies of rebuilding plans, others voicing concern at local meetings about “changing the character” of the area.

The path forward remains tangled in both emotion and bureaucracy. Rebuilding after disaster is never straightforward. New houses, whether affordable or high-end, mean different things to different segments of the community. Federal and state officials are largely in agreement on speed—where they part ways is on who gets to move back in, and how soon.

For now, the standoff continues—each side armed with facts, figures, and a sense they are defending those most in need. And as the sun sets over the still-charred hills, that core question lingers: Whose recovery will the next round of construction truly serve?

Few things rile up a Los Angeles neighborhood quite like talk of new development. This week, it was President Donald Trump who set off a fresh round of debate, making clear in front of his Cabinet that he wants no part of federal dollars being spent on low-income housing in Pacific Palisades. That’s one of L.A.’s storied enclaves, still carrying scars from last year’s devastating wildfires, and now the front line in a deeper fight about what rebuilding should look like.“Not on my watch,” Trump insisted during a meeting that, by all accounts, turned tense when the prospect of affordable housing near multimillion-dollar homes came up. The president—known for plain talk and, as he reminded everyone, a background in real estate—didn’t hold back. “I’m not going to let these people destroy the value of their houses,” he said, gesturing at his gathered officials. “We’re not going to be the reason property values collapse.”For Trump, it's all about keeping prices buoyant for current homeowners—a view he repeats often. As he put it: “If you own property, you’ve worked hard for it. You don’t want the bottom to fall out because of a government experiment.” He even claimed a bit of moral authority, noting, “I’ve built low-income housing myself and done well at it,” before drawing a hard boundary: not here, not now.The orders that followed were swift. President Trump told his team to fast-track rebuilding generally for areas hit by wildfires, but instructed both the EPA and Treasury to steer clear of supporting any subsidized developments in the Palisades. To some, that’s classic Trump—muscle the red tape aside, but on his terms.California Governor Gavin Newsom wasted no time pushing back, releasing an unusually pointed statement. The state’s $101 million in recovery funds, Newsom’s office said, are earmarked to help all disaster victims, not simply wealthy neighborhoods reluctant to change. “Aid is going where families need it, from Altadena to Malibu,” the statement read in part, emphasizing that affordable rental units, built to survive the next fire, are at the center of the state’s plans.Pacific Palisades was hard-hit when wildfires swept through. The flames destroyed thousands of homes and forced as many families to scatter, some landing in temporary rentals, motels, or with relatives miles away. Many of those homes weren’t luxury mansions, but places owned for decades by regular folks. “We owe it to them to help,” Newsom stressed, alluding to families clinging to hope of returning.But here’s where the clash becomes more than policy—it’s politics and perception. Trump accuses the state of dragging its feet with permitting and paperwork, while state officials say Washington is the real holdup. A lengthy post from Newsom’s team even claimed, “The Feds need to release funding—not micromanage which projects get green-lit.” They pointed to billions needed for rebuilding, money they say is getting mired in politics.As is often the case, both sides are talking past each other. Trump believes what he’s doing is protecting “hard-working homeowners,” and he doesn’t apologize for favoring policies that keep the upscale Palisades just the way it is. In private, he’s reportedly told aides not to be shy about taking credit if federal recovery dollars speed things up—though he’s convinced local officials will try to grab the spotlight at the ribbon-cutting anyway.Newsom, meanwhile, sees no way around the region’s housing crisis without building back in a way that is affordable to everybody touched by the fires, not just the wealthy. His strategy, as described by his staff, leans toward multi-family construction and long-term affordability guarantees, a model with supporters and detractors alike.Stand outside the burned foundations in the Palisades this week, and echoes of that debate hang in the air. Longtime residents worry about what comes next—some clutching copies of rebuilding plans, others voicing concern at local meetings about “changing the character” of the area.The path forward remains tangled in both emotion and bureaucracy. Rebuilding after disaster is never straightforward. New houses, whether affordable or high-end, mean different things to different segments of the community. Federal and state officials are largely in agreement on speed—where they part ways is on who gets to move back in, and how soon.For now, the standoff continues—each side armed with facts, figures, and a sense they are defending those most in need. And as the sun sets over the still-charred hills, that core question lingers: Whose recovery will the next round of construction truly serve?