Editor's Note: Sun Taiyi is an associate professor of political science at Christopher Newport University in the United States. He is also the executive editor of the Global Forum of Chinese Political Scientists' main publication, Global China. The article reflects the author's opinions and not necessarily those of CGTN.

The unfolding crisis in Minnesota has turned what might once have been a localized immigration enforcement controversy into a national test of American governance. After weeks of unrest triggered by two fatal shootings of U.S. citizens by federal immigration officers, the Trump administration has begun signaling tactical restraint. Yet the latest move – dispatching the "Border Czar" Tom Homan to Minneapolis to promise a conditional reduction of federal personnel – reveals less a policy reversal than a deeper structural problem: an escalating struggle between federal authority and local autonomy, intensified by political polarization and eroding public trust.

Homan announced that federal teams are drafting a plan to reduce the number of federal officers stationed in Minneapolis. But this drawdown, he stressed, would be contingent on cooperation from state and local authorities – ranging from detention coordination to allowing federal access to state prisons – as well as a reduction in protest-related "obstruction." The message was unmistakable: federal restraint would be granted only in exchange for local compliance.

This conditional softening comes after weeks of turmoil sparked by the killings of Alex Pretti and Renee Good, both U.S. citizens shot by federal immigration personnel. The incidents ignited sustained protests in Minneapolis and beyond, drawing international attention and deepening scrutiny of federal enforcement practices. In Minnesota, local officials have refused to enter new cooperation agreements with federal agencies, while some have openly demanded an end to what they describe as "urban raid-style operations." The backlash has been so intense that at least one federal prosecutor reportedly resigned over dissatisfaction with how the Justice Department handled the investigations.

At the core of this confrontation lies a fundamental dispute over authority. Immigration enforcement is constitutionally a federal responsibility, but its execution increasingly relies on local cooperation – cooperation that is no longer assured. As federal agencies expand their operational footprint inside cities, local governments find themselves caught between legal obligations, political accountability to their residents, and concerns over public safety. Minnesota's resistance reflects a broader national pattern: cities and states questioning not only how immigration laws are enforced but whether federal agencies are overstepping their bounds.

The Trump administration's approach has amplified these tensions. Since returning to office, President Trump has significantly broadened the discretion and reach of federal immigration enforcement, granting agencies greater autonomy and cross-jurisdictional authority. This expansion has effectively weakened the traditional balance between federal and state power. In practice, it has produced overlapping claims to the legitimate use of force – an issue sociologist Max Weber famously identified as central to state authority. When local police forces, trained and accountable to state governments, encounter rapidly expanded federal units operating under different rules and incentives, friction is inevitable.

The Minnesota cases illustrate how quickly that friction can turn deadly. In the Pretti shooting, video evidence suggests officers mistook a cellphone for a firearm. Pretti, a nurse with a strong community reputation, appeared to be assisting a woman who had been pepper-sprayed and pushed to the ground. The killing of a legally armed citizen – Minnesota law allows permitted individuals to carry firearms even at protests – has proven especially destabilizing. It exposed not only operational failures but also the human costs of aggressive enforcement carried out by personnel whom critics say are insufficiently trained for complex urban environments.

Such incidents have profound consequences for public trust. Violence committed in the name of law enforcement erodes confidence not only in the agencies involved but in government more broadly. Protesters view federal actions as evidence of unaccountable power, while federal officials often interpret protests themselves as justification for further crackdowns. This mutually reinforcing dynamic benefits neither side. Instead, it produces a cycle in which confrontation becomes normalized and escalation politically useful.

The political implications are already visible. Polling suggests growing unease with the administration's immigration tactics, even among Republican voters who support stricter border control in principle. Many Americans appear willing to endorse tough policies but recoil at what they perceive as excessive or indiscriminate force. Within the Republican Party, the Minnesota shootings have sparked uncomfortable questions. How does a party committed to "law and order," limited government and gun rights reconcile those principles with the killing of citizens without trial, the expansion of federal power into local jurisdictions, and the fatal shooting of a lawful gun owner?

Beyond domestic politics, the fallout reaches America's international standing. For decades, the United States has cultivated an image as a defender of human rights and the rule of law. Images of heavily armed federal agents confronting protesters, and reports of citizens killed during enforcement actions, complicate that narrative. Allies and adversaries alike are quick to point out the contradiction between Washington's rhetoric abroad and its practices at home. Over time, such dissonance risks eroding U.S. soft power, weakening the moral authority that underpins its global influence.

Homan's conditional promise to reduce the federal presence may temporarily lower tensions in Minneapolis, but it does not resolve the underlying issues. By tying de-escalation to local compliance, the administration reinforces the perception that federal power is being used coercively rather than collaboratively. Whether the situation stabilizes or deteriorates will depend less on protest dynamics than on political calculations in Washington. If confrontation serves the administration's broader agenda, the friction will persist. If the political costs grow too high, restraint may follow – but only as a tactical pause.

Minnesota, then, is not an anomaly. It is a warning. The state has become a focal point for unresolved questions about federalism, legitimacy and the acceptable limits of state power. As immigration enforcement intensifies nationwide, similar conflicts are likely to emerge elsewhere. The real crisis is not simply about immigration but about governance in an era when the boundaries between federal authority and local consent are increasingly blurred.