Trump’s New Order: Homan Moves In to Restore Calm Amidst Chaos
Paul Riverbank, 2/1/2026Unrest in Minneapolis exposed deep rifts in federal-local coordination and raised questions about protest organization. Leadership changes calmed tensions, but the episode underscores the vital need for balance, transparency, and trust in policing during crises. The nation watches, wary and waiting for genuine accountability.
Smoke continues to hang over the streets of Minneapolis, days after unrest took hold of the city. It’s a snapshot of America on edge—a metropolis wrestling not just with immediate tragedy but also, it seems, with something larger simmering beneath the surface. The scene is unmistakably tense: graffiti splashed across the courthouse, plywood hammered over shattered storefronts, anxious groups gathered at corners even as authorities strive to restore calm.
Observers accustomed to unrest are seeing familiar signs—but not all is as expected. Rick de la Torre, now retired from the CIA after years tracking insurgencies from Manila to Kabul, spotted patterns that, quite frankly, raised his eyebrow. “This isn’t just people who are angry in the moment,” de la Torre told Fox News in a clipped and direct assessment. “Look at the way they’re communicating—encrypted apps, zone control, these rolling medical squads. It’s not your run-of-the-mill protest.” He pointed out that behind the chants and slogans lies a subtle chain of command, visible only if you know where to look. He didn’t mince words: “It’s textbook—something I saw abroad. And someone’s funding this.”
His speculation hinted at a larger, possibly international, effort—a claim that, even without solid evidence in the public record, ratcheted up concern overnight. Elsewhere, Fox News zeroed in on further signs: whispers of organized propaganda, encrypted channels buzzing late into the night, and protest leaders who appeared able to pivot instantly in response to police movements. Military observers, unused to such playbooks on domestic soil, found themselves following the action with equal parts concern and curiosity.
Meanwhile, the shockwaves from Minneapolis reached as far as Los Angeles, where protests outside a federal building prompted Mayor Karen Bass to address growing unease. With a measured calm that came only after a rattling dusk-to-dawn standoff, Bass reminded reporters, “We have to remember the root. These protests wouldn’t have filled our streets if not for what happened in Minneapolis.” She paused, choosing her words. The conflict flared, then fizzled, contained for the time being, but the city braced for what tomorrow might bring.
Back in Minneapolis, the federal response fell somewhere between overwhelming and disjointed. Nearly 3,000 federal agents arrived—a wave of uniforms and armored vehicles, making a show of force but apparently not always the most coordinated front. Fumbled communication between local, state, and federal leaders led to confusion on the ground and left residents uncertain about who was actually in command. Matters took a sharp turn when Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem labeled the protesters “domestic terrorists” following the shooting of Pretti—a rhetorical escalation that drew condemnation not just from political opponents but from fellow Republicans who worried the government had lost its grip, and perhaps its perspective.
Amid the deepening discord, President Trump replaced his lead official—elevating Tom Homan, a figure familiar to both activists and officials, who swiftly called for a different approach. Homan, previously seen as uncompromising at the border, surprised many with his willingness to pick up the phone and open up conversations with Governor Tim Walz and Mayor Jacob Frey. A source close to the talks described the tone as “cautiously optimistic,” and, as days passed, the number of clashes started to dwindle.
But even as the city’s tensions began to ease, the scars left by weeks of unrest remained all too visible. Raids had stoked fresh bitterness; friends and neighbors grieved losses that played out, sometimes in real time, on national TV. Criticism poured in from both ends of the political spectrum. Senator Thom Tillis, a Republican from North Carolina, didn’t mince words in his rebuke: he openly called current federal leadership “incompetent,” highlighting a rare moment of bipartisan agreement—if not about solutions, then at least about the gravity of the mistakes made.
If there’s a lesson emerging from Minneapolis, it’s that policing in a crisis demands more than muscle or numbers—it demands humility, open ears, and a willingness to share control. “Show of force is not the same as maintaining order,” read one stinging local editorial. “Real leadership is quieter, more collaborative, less visible.” In short: it’s about partnership, not bravado.
Now, with Homan at the helm and new efforts toward communication underway, Minneapolis stands at a crossroads. Justice Department probes are anticipated—though, thus far, officials remain tight-lipped about any specific investigations into the deaths that originally set the city alight. People here are waiting, watching to see whether this fresh approach will really last or disappear at the first sign of tension. The answers will matter—not just for the city, but as a litmus test for a nation still figuring out how to guard both public safety and public trust in anxious times.
If nothing else, the events playing out in Minneapolis underscore a hard truth: In a democracy, keeping the peace is not only about force. It is—at its core—about earning, and keeping, the people’s trust. That remains the hardest job of all.