Washington, D.C., has filed suit to block President Trump’s bid to assert control over the Metropolitan Police Department (MPD), hours after U.S. Attorney General Pam Bondi named Drug Enforcement Administration chief Terry (Terrance) Cole the city’s “emergency police commissioner” and directed that MPD leadership obtain his approval before issuing further directives. Bondi simultaneously moved to rescind MPD immigration-related policies she characterized as “sanctuary” protections that limited cooperation with federal authorities. D.C. officials, including Attorney General Brian Schwalb and Mayor Muriel Bowser, denounced the move as an unlawful “hostile takeover” that would upend the city’s chain of command and violate its limited home rule.

The administration counters that it is acting under Section 740 of the D.C. Home Rule Act, which allows the President to direct the mayor to provide MPD “for federal purposes” during “special conditions of an emergency nature.” That authority is time-limited: absent congressional action, it expires after 30 days (with additional notice requirements after the first 48 hours), though the White House has signaled it may seek an extension. Critics argue that while Section 740 permits federal direction of MPD services for federal needs, it does not authorize replacing the police chief or transferring the department’s personnel authority to a federal appointee. They also note that D.C. crime indicators have been trending lower than the 2023 spike, undermining the claim of a continuing citywide “crime emergency.”

The Administration’s Case

Legal Authority Under the Home Rule Act

Section 740 of the D.C. Home Rule Act (codified at D.C. Code § 1-207.40) is the statute the administration points to. It allows the President—upon determining “special conditions of an emergency nature”—to direct the mayor to provide “such services of the Metropolitan Police” for federal purposes as the President deems necessary and appropriate. The provision builds in procedural guardrails: the White House must notify the chairs and ranking members of the Senate and House D.C. committees within 48 hours; any federal use of MPD services ends when the emergency ends or after 30 days unless Congress enacts a joint resolution authorizing an extension (with a special timing rule if Congress is adjourned).

To operationalize that authority, the President issued an executive order on August 11, 2025, formally declaring a “crime emergency,” delegating his Section 740 power to the Attorney General under 3 U.S.C. § 301, and directing that the mayor provide the MPD’s services for federal purposes (e.g., protecting federal buildings and ensuring the orderly functioning of the federal government). Delegation to the Attorney General is a routine mechanism the statute permits via Title 3; the order expressly cites both Section 740 and 3 U.S.C. § 301.

The legal dispute turns on scope. The administration contends that Section 740’s broad phrasing—“such services…as the President may deem necessary and appropriate”—allows consolidating operational control to avoid conflicting commands during an emergency, which is why the Attorney General named DEA Administrator Terry Cole as “emergency police commissioner” and required MPD leadership to route directives through him. City officials answer that 740 compels the mayor to provide police services for federal needs, but it does not authorize reassigning the department’s chain of command or vesting the Chief’s personnel and policy powers in a federal appointee. Press accounts and legal explainers also note that using 740 in this way appears without historical precedent, which is why both sides expect a court to be writing largely on a blank slate.

Procedurally, extensions beyond the baseline window require affirmative congressional authorization, and the White House has indicated it will seek such an extension—another step that will crystallize statutory limits in real time. If Congress does not act, Section 740’s text terminates federal use of MPD services at 30 days (earlier if the emergency ends).

In short, the statute clearly permits short-term federal use of MPD “for federal purposes” during an emergency and clearly limits duration and notice. What the courts must decide is whether those words also allow the creation of a federally controlled command structure inside MPD—including appointing an “emergency police commissioner”—or whether that goes beyond providing “services” and into powers the Home Rule Act reserves to D.C.’s own leadership.

Public Safety and Immigration Enforcement

Administration officials frame the move as a straightforward public-safety surge in a uniquely federal city. With federal buildings, courts, and protest activity concentrated in D.C., they say overlapping jurisdictions can produce fragmented responses and “mixed signals” on the street. The remedy, in their telling, is a tightly coordinated posture: federal agents working alongside MPD on visible patrols, traffic checkpoints, and targeted operations around federal assets and busy corridors. In recent days, unarmed National Guard troops have been stationed at high-traffic sites for visibility and infrastructure support while agents from multiple departments (including FBI, DEA, ICE, ATF, and the U.S. Marshals Service) augment patrols and task forces.

A central plank is immigration enforcement. Attorney General Pam Bondi argues that prior MPD rules walled off cooperation with federal authorities, allowing people with federal detainers or administrative warrants to cycle through the system. Her directive suspended MPD guidance that (1) restricted officers from checking databases to determine immigration status absent a criminal warrant; (2) barred arrests on administrative immigration warrants signed by ICE; and (3) limited assistance to federal agents during such arrests. Bondi also rescinded earlier MPD orders that curbed status inquiries and cooperation with immigration authorities, saying these amounted to sanctuary-style protections.

Beyond immigration, Bondi told MPD to enforce public-space and crowding/obstruction laws “to the maximum extent possible,” a reference to D.C.’s long-used “crowding, obstructing, or incommoding” statute (D.C. Code § 22-1307), which police and Capitol Police have historically invoked during sit-ins and building blockades. Civil-liberties groups have criticized that law’s past use; the administration counters that clear, predictable enforcement around sidewalks, entrances, and transit hubs is vital when demonstrations and federal operations overlap.

On the ground, that approach has translated into joint checkpoints and patrols—for example, MPD officers alongside Homeland Security Investigations personnel in Northwest D.C.—aimed at traffic violations, warrants, and leads tied to federal cases. These actions have prompted protests and questions about how immigration screening intersects with routine stops; officials say the integrated posture is intended to catch fugitives, disrupt trafficking networks, and deter violent offenders who move between local and federal systems.

Supporters of the surge emphasize speed and coordination: a single operational picture, more bodies on the street, and fewer gaps between federal intelligence and local policing. Skeptics warn that aggressive immigration cooperation and broad enforcement of public-space rules could chill reporting in immigrant communities and divert officers from violent-crime work. Those debates are now playing out in court and on D.C.’s streets as the multi-agency deployment continues.

Precedent for Stepped-up Federal Presence

Washington, D.C. lives with a built-in federal overlay even on quiet days. Multiple federal police forces operate alongside MPD with their own mandates: the U.S. Park Police (Interior) patrol the National Mall and federal parklands; the Secret Service Uniformed Division (Homeland Security) secures the White House complex and foreign missions; and the U.S. Capitol Police (Legislative Branch) protect Congress and the Capitol campus. Those agencies regularly coordinate with MPD but answer to different chains of command.

There are also formal frameworks for temporary federal lead roles during high-risk events. When the Department of Homeland Security designates a National Special Security Event (NSSE)—such as a presidential inauguration or State of the Union—the Secret Service leads security operations, the FBI leads intelligence and counterterrorism, and FEMA handles consequence management, with MPD embedded through a unified command structure. These NSSE playbooks bring substantial federal manpower to the streets without permanently displacing local control.

Historically, periods of civil unrest or heightened threat have prompted extraordinary federal surges in the capital. After the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. in April 1968, federal troops and the D.C. National Guard were deployed to restore order in the city. More recently, during the late-May/early-June 2020 protest period around Lafayette Square, federal agencies—including the Park Police—played significant on-the-ground roles, later examined in inspector-general reviews. And following the January 6, 2021 attack on the U.S. Capitol, more than 25,000 National Guard personnel were mobilized in Washington to secure the subsequent presidential inauguration.

One reason these surges can scale quickly is D.C.’s unique National Guard structure: unlike the 54 state and territorial Guards, the D.C. National Guard reports to the President (delegated through the Secretary of the Army), not the mayor. Congress and D.C.’s delegate have periodically proposed shifting that authority to the mayor, but under current law the President retains command, which has shaped federal responses during major security events.

Against that backdrop, the administration casts the present move as another time-limited security surge to protect federal functions and property, a posture that has well-worn precedents in D.C. practice. What is less common, and now central to the litigation, is the added step of inserting a federally appointed “emergency police commissioner” into MPD’s internal command, going beyond customary joint operations or NSSE-style coordination and into the mechanics of who gives orders inside the local department.

The City’s Case

Overreach Beyond Section 740

D.C.’s lawsuit zeroes in on what Section 740 does not allow. Attorney General Brian Schwalb argues that, even in an emergency, the statute authorizes the President only to direct the mayor to provide “services” of MPD for federal purposes; it does not permit the federal government to replace the chief, alter MPD’s chain of command, rescind MPD directives, or demand services directly from the department. In a written opinion to Chief Pamela Smith, Schwalb called U.S. Attorney General Pam Bondi’s late-night order “ultra vires,” listing each of those limits and instructing MPD to continue taking orders from the Mayor and the Chief, not from a federal appointee.

The complaint also contends that Bondi’s order—installing DEA Administrator Terry Cole as “emergency police commissioner” with “all the powers of the police chief”—usurps local personnel authority that the D.C. Charter places with the Mayor and the Chief, not the Attorney General. City filings say nothing in Section 740 authorizes federal reassignment of internal MPD powers or the suspension of local policies wholesale; at most, it permits temporary use of MPD for federal needs. D.C. is seeking a declaratory judgment and immediate injunctive relief to keep the existing command structure in place.

Operationally, the District warns that dueling directives from “two Chief Pams”—Pam Bondi at DOJ and Chief Pam Smith at MPD—would “wreak operational havoc,” producing uncertainty on everything from patrol orders to incident command at protests. That theme appears throughout the city’s court papers and public statements, which argue that public safety is harmed, not helped, when officers face conflicting chains of command in real time.

Beyond the Home Rule Act, D.C. layers on additional legal theories. The suit alleges violations of the Administrative Procedure Act (as arbitrary, capricious, and contrary to law) and non-statutory ultra vires principles, given the lack of clear statutory authority for a federal “commissioner” to supplant the Chief. It also frames the move as inconsistent with the District’s home-rule structure, which preserves local control over day-to-day policing even as federal agencies operate in the capital. Coverage of the complaint and Schwalb’s opinion letter underscores that these claims are aimed at drawing a bright line between temporary federal use of MPD and a federal takeover of MPD.

Finally, city officials stress the lack of historical precedent for appointing a federal “police commissioner” inside MPD. While D.C. regularly operates with robust federal partners, they argue, no administration has previously claimed the power to sideline the Chief and rewrite MPD’s internal command, which is why the District is asking the court to restore the status quo quickly.

No True Emergency

City leaders say the numbers don’t meet any plain-English definition of an “emergency.” They point to MPD’s own dashboard showing violent crime down 35% in 2024 vs. 2023, and down another 26% year-to-date in 2025 (as of August 15). Homicides are -32% year over year (2024 vs. 2023) and -11% so far in 2025; robberies and assaults show similar declines. MPDC Independent analysis from the Council on Criminal Justice likewise finds a sharp drop from the 2023 peaks in homicide, gun assaults, robbery, and carjacking through June 2025—consistent with national trends—though overall violence in D.C. remains higher than the sample average.

On that record, the District argues the federal declaration is untethered to current conditions, not a sudden surge or breakdown in public safety. Police Chief Pamela Smith warns that the federal directive itself jeopardizes safety by upending day-to-day operations; the Attorney General’s lawsuit echoes that the move would create chaos rather than order. Press accounts of the filing summarize Smith’s sworn statement as stressing a “grave threat to public safety” if MPD’s internal command is displaced.

Operationally, the District’s case leans on widely accepted incident-management doctrine: unity of command. Under FEMA’s National Incident Management System—and MPD’s own Incident Command System (ICS) policy—each responder should report to one boss to avoid conflicting orders during fast-moving events. The city says inserting a separate, federally appointed commander over MPD violates that principle, risking confusion over who sets perimeters, authorizes arrests, assigns crowd-control teams, and clears radio traffic during protests or critical incidents.

D.C. also argues that Washington has already seen the costs of muddled multi-agency command during large demonstrations. Inspector-general and GAO reviews of the June 2020 Lafayette Square response documented coordination and communication problems among overlapping federal units, an experience the city cites as a cautionary tale against split or improvised chains of command inside the capital.

Bottom line on the District’s “no emergency” claim: with crime trending downward and unity of command viewed as essential to safe policing, city officials say the federal move is a solution in search of a crisis that would degrade, not improve, public safety.

Civil Liberties and Community Trust

Advocacy groups, immigrant organizations, and some clergy warn that sweeping away D.C.’s “don’t-ask/don’t-assist” rules risks a chilling effect: victims and witnesses—especially undocumented residents—may stop calling 911, reporting abusers, or cooperating as witnesses if routine police encounters can trigger immigration checks. Local reporting already describes heightened fear since the new directives and overnight ICE arrests, with service providers saying trust is eroding.

They point to tools Congress created precisely to encourage reporting, like the U-visa (for crime victims who aid investigations) and T-visa (for trafficking victims). Those programs depend on police certifications and are widely used by prosecutors to flip witnesses; federal guidance frames them as public-safety tools, not “loopholes.” At the same time, critics note vulnerabilities—recent federal indictments in Louisiana allege crooked officials fabricated police reports to churn out U-visa certifications—arguing that any surge strategy must protect good-faith victims while policing fraud.

Research on the “chilling effect” is mixed. Some studies and front-line accounts link stricter immigration enforcement to drops in domestic-violence and sexual-assault reporting among Latinos; others, analyzing national crime-victim data, find no systematic evidence that immigrants report crimes at lower rates or that cooperation collapses where local police work with ICE. Policymakers are using the same patchwork to argue opposite conclusions about how enforcement posture shapes trust.

Another flashpoint is protest policing. D.C. law codifies robust protections for “First Amendment assemblies,” requiring MPD to favor de-escalation, document arrests, and keep officers identifiable—even in riot gear—while permitting content-neutral, time-place-manner limits to protect safety. MPD’s current crowd-management order (updated January 14, 2025) bakes in checklists, reporting, and limits on less-lethal tools at demonstrations. Civil-liberties groups worry that inserting federal commanders and agents—who are not governed by D.C. statutes—could produce inconsistent standards on the same block, undermining the city’s carefully built guardrails.

The city’s “crowding, obstructing, or incommoding” law sits at the center of these debates. The D.C. Circuit has upheld the statute against a vagueness challenge, and it’s a common charge for sit-ins and corridor blockades; Capitol Police and MPD cite it often. But D.C.’s Police Complaints Board has flagged harassment concerns tied to its enforcement, and rights groups argue it invites selective arrests unless warnings and dispersal orders are carefully documented. With federal surge teams emphasizing stricter public-space enforcement, opponents fear broader use of the law could chill peaceful protest. Supporters counter that clear, evenly applied rules let demonstrators be “seen and heard” and keep entrances and transit flowing.

Finally, community-trust advocates note that DHS’s prior guidance limiting immigration arrests in “protected areas” (like shelters or places of worship) has been rescinded or revised since 2021, creating uncertainty about where enforcement will occur. They argue that clarity on “no-enforcement” zones, paired with active promotion of U/T-visa options, is essential if immigrant victims are to keep coming forward while the federal surge is in place.

What the Law Actually Says (and Doesn’t)

Section 740 of the D.C. Home Rule Act is short but loaded. Its operative clause lets the President—upon finding “special conditions of an emergency nature”—direct the mayor to provide “such services of the Metropolitan Police force…as the President may deem necessary and appropriate,” specifically for federal purposes. The statute also hard-caps the availability of those services and builds in a congressional check via joint resolution.

From that sparse text flow the core legal questions now before the court:

• “Services” vs. “command.” Nothing in § 1-207.40 explicitly authorizes redesigning MPD’s internal hierarchy; it speaks in terms of making police “services” available to the federal government through the mayor. D.C. argues that “services” means assignments or deployments for federal needs, not the power to supplant the Chief or rewrite MPD policy. The administration replies that “such services…as the President may deem necessary and appropriate,” prefaced by a “notwithstanding any other provision of law” clause, is broad enough to encompass centralized operational control during the emergency. That interpretive gap is precisely what the lawsuit asks the judge to resolve.
• Who holds personnel power during an emergency. Outside emergencies, D.C. law vests MPD personnel authority in the mayor and makes the Chief of Police a mayoral appointee, with removal and promotion levers set by District statutes. The city says nothing in Section 740 transfers those levers to a federal official; DOJ’s reading is that the “notwithstanding” clause temporarily displaces conflicting local limits. This is largely untested territory.
• “Federal purposes” and scope. Everyone agrees that protecting federal buildings, courts, and operations qualifies. The novel questions are whether sweeping rescission of MPD policies (e.g., immigration-cooperation limits or demonstration rules) is necessary to furnish federal-purpose services, and whether citywide directions unrelated to discrete federal assets exceed the statute’s reach. Contemporary reporting underscores that courts have not previously blessed a federal appointee inside MPD’s chain of command, which is why analysts describe the move as unprecedented.
• Congress as referee. Section 740 is unusual in giving Congress a live role: federal use of MPD services ends at the statutory time limit unless Congress enacts an extension, and Congress can also terminate earlier by joint resolution. Members have already circulated draft resolutions aimed at cutting the emergency short, illustrating how the statute channels disputes back to the legislature.
• Context with other emergency tools. Unlike the Insurrection Act, which authorizes use of the armed forces (subject to separate constraints), Section 740 is a District-specific tool about borrowing MPD capacity. The government may cite the broader emergency backdrop, but the court’s task is statutory: does this particular law allow the particular steps taken here? That comparative frame matters when assessing the limits of “services” versus a takeover.

Bottom line on the state of the law: Section 740 clearly enables time-limited federal use of MPD for federal purposes, and it clearly installs Congress as a check. What it doesn’t clearly answer is whether that authority stretches to reassigning MPD’s internal command and personnel powers to a federal “emergency commissioner.” That’s why even neutral summaries (and the city’s complaint) characterize the case as cutting on largely new legal ground.

Where Both Sides Have a Point (and Where They Don’t)

Let’s be honest: both camps aren’t crazy; they’re just starting from different priorities.

What the Administration Gets Right

D.C. isn’t Peoria. It’s jam-packed with embassies, federal courthouses, cabinet buildings, and protests on any given Tuesday. When trouble pops, the public expects the federal family to act like, well, a family: same playbook, same clock, no turf wars. A short, tightly coordinated surge can make sense around high-value targets and big events, especially if it plugs local gaps with specialized tools (think intel, warrants, and cross-jurisdiction cases).

Where the Administration Overreaches

There’s a difference between coordination and control. Swapping in a new command structure—however temporary—doesn’t just move boxes on an org chart; it messes with relationships, culture, and accountability. It also invites a precedent that future administrations could stretch. And if the message sounds like “crisis, crisis, crisis” while residents are seeing slow improvements, that gap breeds skepticism and, potentially, courtroom headaches.

What the City Gets Right

Day-to-day policing lives or dies on local trust. Beat cops know the shop owners and the pastors; they’ve trained under policies the community recognizes. Keeping those lines intact matters when you’re asking witnesses to talk, victims to come forward, and officers to use discretion in tense moments. Home rule isn’t just a slogan; it’s a way to keep the people who give orders answerable to the people who live with the results.

Where the City Steps on Rakes

Washington’s rulebook can be… layered. Multiple directives, MOUs, and carve-outs sometimes make quick decisions harder, and quality-of-life problems (open-air dealing, chronic disorder) can linger even when big crime numbers are trending the right way. When city leaders sound dismissive of those lived frustrations—or when cooperation with federal partners looks grudging—credibility takes a hit.

Common Ground Hiding in Plain Sight

Both sides say they want the same three things: safer streets, protected rights, and clear lines of accountability. That suggests some obvious, non-dramatic fixes: a written, public operations plan (who does what, where, for how long), narrowly scoped joint missions (violent offenders, trafficking, fugitives), and exit criteria so everyone knows when the surge winds down. Regular data drops—simple dashboards residents can read—would also reduce the spin wars.

What to Watch Next

Optics and execution will matter as much as legal briefs. If federal teams add value without stepping on local toes, the temperature drops. If residents see whiplash on the street—mixed signals, duplicative stops, or heavy-handed tactics—expect backlash and a judge with a sharp pencil. In other words: both sides have a case; the winner may be the one that looks more focused, measured, and transparent in practice.

Ordered Liberty in the Capital

We don’t have to choose between safety and freedom. Scripture gives us both guardrails: government “beareth not the sword in vain” (Romans 13:4), and we’re still called “to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God” (Micah 6:8). In other words, keep the sword sharp but keep the scales honest.

Here’s how that translates, practically and plainly:

1) Use the emergency lever like a fire extinguisher, not a sprinkler system.
If there’s a genuine, defined threat to federal functions, President Trump can pull a narrow emergency handle. But it needs a written mission (what, where, by whom), measurable targets (e.g., specific threat nodes or hotspots), and a hard 30-day sunset unless Congress—out in the open—extends it. No drifting mandates. No “we’ll know it when we feel it.”

2) Put muscle where the harm is worst.
Aim the surge at repeat violent offenders, gun trafficking, and organized crews that slip between local and federal systems. That’s where federal tools—intel, warrants, interstate cases—actually change outcomes. Don’t turn every patrol stop into an immigration seminar. Big rocks first.

3) Protect speech while policing space.
The First Amendment isn’t a nuisance to be managed; it’s a duty to be honored. Keep protest rules content-neutral, give clear warnings, document every use of force, and publish after-action reports. “The wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God” (James 1:20). Firm hands, cool heads, bright lights.

4) Fix the pipes, not just the faucet.
Surges are flashy; capacity wins the long game. Fill prosecutor and judge vacancies, clear case backlogs, and make consequences swifter for chronic violent crime. That’s boring, which is exactly why it works.

5) Tell the truth.

• White House: If major crime is easing off the 2023 spike, say so. Then explain, with data, why a targeted federal assist still helps. Don’t sell fear.
• D.C. leadership: Home rule isn’t a hall pass. If certain policies blunt cooperation on serious offenders, fix them and show residents the results in plain numbers.

6) Accountability people can see.
Stand up a joint public dashboard (weekly stats on arrests, warrants, seizures, protests handled, complaints resolved), a clear chain-of-command card every officer carries, and a single community liaison per ward so pastors, shopkeepers, and victims know who answers the phone.

7) Guardrails for the precedent.
Write down—now—that this model doesn’t let any administration permanently tinker with MPD’s internal command. If a federal “emergency commissioner” exists, limit it to coordination, not replacement, and require Mayor sign-off on any citywide directive unrelated to discrete federal targets. Today’s workaround can become tomorrow’s habit; tie it down.

Bottom line: Ordered liberty beats both chaos and central planning. A tightly scoped, time-limited federal assist aimed at real threats is legitimate; a roaming, open-ended command swap is not. The best outcome is court-bounded and practical: joint missions against violent crime and trafficking, a firm 30-day cap unless Congress extends, transparent metrics, and civil-liberties guardrails. That’s Romans 13 without forgetting Micah 6:8, and for good measure, “A false balance is abomination to the LORD: but a just weight is his delight” (Proverbs 11:1). Give the city a just weight, give the feds a sharp sword, and give the public a clear clock.