How Trump Targets Sheriff Kennedy.
Dubuque County, Iowa – a rural district on the border of Wisconsin and Illinois, nearly 100,000 residents, a sheriff with backbone – and a president on a revenge mission. Joe Kennedy, a Democrat and the county's top law enforcement officer, could have taken the easy route. He could have simply signed it. The so-called 287(g) agreement, named after a section of the U.S. immigration law, allows local police agencies to act like federal officers – detaining, arresting, deporting migrants. That is what Donald Trump wants. But Kennedy said no.
Not out of defiance. Not for ideological reasons. But, as he says, out of responsibility. "When we partner with federal agencies, they usually take more than they give." This is not about politics. It's about funding. About staffing. About an overcrowded jail with 181 beds. And about making sure his officers remain police officers – not extensions of a government that operates through lists rather than solutions.
And that's exactly what's now looming: a list. A new one. One that, according to Trump's April directive, will name every state and district that refuses to participate in the enforcement of immigration law. A "sanctuary list." A list of public shaming.
Kennedy speaks openly about his concerns: that his county, his staff, he himself – will be put on display. That it is no longer about cooperation, but about obedience. Anyone who defies the president is marked. Publicly. Politically. Personally. Yet Kennedy made clear: he is "more than happy to assist ICE agents in our area" – just not through a binding contract that drains his resources and erodes his independence.
The reality: Iowa has only one agency that has signed a 287(g) agreement – the Department of Public Safety. No other district is listed. While Florida has 255 such agreements, in the Midwest they are still rare. And yet, pressure is mounting.
In the background is Jonathan Thompson, head of the National Sheriffs’ Association. In a letter to his more than 3,000 members, including Kennedy, he warned: the list might be published before May 28. Those wanting to join had better hurry. The logic: if you don’t fall in line, you become a problem.
But this isn’t just about lists. It’s about a principle: the separation of local and federal authority. About whether a sheriff like Kennedy can still decide what serves his county – or whether federal power will rule unchecked. Kennedy, celebrated by some in the county and criticized by others, remained calm: "We have been and will remain partners with ICE – but a binding agreement must not come at the expense of our core law enforcement duties."
he response from an ICE official in Cedar Rapids? Curt: "No worries, sir. I completely understand. Thank you for your time."
But for how much longer? Iowa’s Republican attorney general is already suing a neighboring county sheriff for a Facebook post that allegedly discouraged cooperation with ICE – a statement that immediately triggered threats of state funding cuts. The Trump administration has also sued cities like Chicago, Denver, and Rochester for refusing to hand over migrants without a judge’s order.
What remains is a climate of intimidation. The language of lists. A return to authoritarian disciplining through public shaming. And a sheriff who rightly asks: who does this really serve?
As Thompson himself, a Trump supporter, put it: "Every sheriff needs another federal mandate like they need a hole in the head."
Still, Joe Kennedy made his decision. Against the hole. And for his people. For his citizens. For what little remains of local autonomy in a country increasingly governed by lists instead of trust.
English 
German 
