In the grand theater of politics, Minneapolis has become the newest stage for a dramatic showdown. Enter Tom Homan, walking into the metaphorical lion’s den equipped with both experience and resolve. He’s not there to deliver a soliloquy on immigration; he’s looking for actual solutions, even if that means braving the frigid cold. Homan, the no-nonsense former I.C.E. director, is in Minneapolis to fix what he sees as a city in chaos, stirred up by what some are cheekily calling “Riot Inc.”

Homan predicted the unrest, not because he’s a harbinger of doom, but because he understands the volatile ingredients of the current political climate. With unwavering focus, he aims to restore order, working alongside local police chiefs to ensure that the law doesn’t become an optional menu item. His proposal is simple but potent; if local enforcement cooperates, I.C.E. can scale back its presence, and we wouldn’t need battalions of agents for every operation—just good old-fashioned coordination.

But the streets of Minneapolis seem to play host to a different kind of orchestration, one where so-called spontaneous protests come with logistics that would make any tactician proud. Trucks full of identical signs, ready protests conveniently squaring off against federal courthouses. The spectacle prompts musings on whether Minneapolis is the birthplace of a new revolution or just its latest attempted installment.

Local leaders are caught in a dichotomy. On one hand, Governor Tim Walz and Attorney General Keith Ellison play political chess, cooperating with I.C.E. in what appears a dance of compliance and rebellion. It seems Ellison will surreptitiously allow I.C.E. to take custody of criminals, suggesting a silent nod of agreement to public safety, despite loud dissent from the left-wing chorus.

Meanwhile, on the media front, figures like Alex Pretti are painted in saintly hues, the narratives so rose-tinted they might as well come with a disclaimer that reads “imagination at play.” It becomes apparent that the media cast him more as a victim and less the rebellious provocateur seen in unguarded footage, challenging the notion that actions speak louder than publicists’ spins.

So, as Minneapolis stands under the national microscope, Homan and his counterparts find themselves in a familiar script—upholding the law that past administrations endorsed but in an atmosphere humming with discord. In today’s theatrical climate, it seems I.C.E. is the central antagonist for a certain political crowd. Yet, as the law still stands, amid all the fireworks, it’s essential to ask whether the foundations of Western civilization will be a casualty or simply see their next act.