“We Will Not Comply”: Maryland Sheriffs Push Back Against New Migrant Protection Law
“No Politician Will Tell Me”: Maryland Sheriffs Ignite Open Revolt Against Governor Wes Moore’s New “Sanctuary” Law
In the halls of power in Annapolis, Maryland, a storm has been brewing for months, but on Tuesday, the clouds finally broke. Governor Wes Moore signed into law a controversial piece of legislation that effectively dismantles the long-standing 287(g) program within the state—a federal partnership that allowed local law enforcement to cooperate directly with Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). While the governor and state lawmakers hailed the move as a victory for “constitutional policing” and the protection of immigrant rights, the reaction from the front lines of law enforcement has been anything but celebratory. In fact, it has sparked what can only be described as an open revolt.
Across nine Maryland counties, local sheriffs are standing up and speaking out with a level of defiance rarely seen in modern governance. Their message to the governor is simple: “We will not comply.”
The abolition of the 287(g) program in Maryland means that local jail officials can no longer serve active administrative warrants on behalf of ICE, nor can they alert the agency when an undocumented immigrant with a deportation detainer is in their custody—even if that individual has been convicted of a violent crime. For the sheriffs who deal with these individuals daily, the new law is viewed as a catastrophic failure of leadership. “It is the biggest betrayal to law enforcement and public safety that I have ever seen,” one official stated during a heated press conference following the signing.
Sheriff Chuck Jenkins of Frederick County, whose department has operated one of the longest-standing 287(g) programs in the nation, was particularly blunt. He warned that the absence of formal cooperation will not make ICE disappear; instead, it will force the federal agency to “intensify their efforts” on the streets, leading to more, not less, immigration enforcement in local neighborhoods . Jenkins has even suggested taking the fight to the courtroom, signaling that a legal battle against the state mandate may be the next step in this high-stakes standoff .
The tension between local law enforcement and the state government is rooted in a fundamental disagreement over the definition of public safety. Governor Moore and his supporters argue that ending cooperation with ICE builds trust between immigrant communities and the police, ensuring that witnesses and victims of crimes feel safe coming forward. However, Sheriff Jim DeWees of Carroll County views the move as shortsighted and purely political. DeWees, who joined the program under the “warrant services officer” model as part of the Trump administration’s expansion of deportation efforts, says the legislature is “ramming it down everyone’s throats” without thinking through the consequences .
“No politician is going to tell me that I can’t communicate with another law enforcement agency on matters of public safety in my community,” DeWees declared, emphasizing that his primary oath is to protect his citizens, not to bend to the “political winds” of Annapolis .
The revolt is not just rhetorical. Sheriffs across the state are actively seeking workarounds and informal channels to maintain their partnerships with federal authorities. While the official Memorandums of Understanding (MOUs) may be banned, the sheriffs have made it clear that they will continue to work with their “federal partners” in ICE and Homeland Security Investigations (HSI) however they can . The Wicomico County Sheriff even predicted a “dramatic increase” in ICE’s presence in the state as a direct result of the law, suggesting that the “will of the Maryland people” to remain safe outweighs the directives of the statehouse .
For Governor Wes Moore, a rising star in the Democratic Party often discussed as a future presidential hopeful, this conflict represents a significant political gamble. Critics argue that by following the lead of other “blue” states like Minnesota and cities like Chicago, Moore is prioritizing ideological purity over the practical concerns of the men and women who wear the badge. The move has been described as “disappointing but not surprising,” as it fits into a larger national trend of reducing law enforcement cooperation with federal immigration agencies .
As Maryland moves into this new era of “sanctuary” policy, the residents are left in the middle of a constitutional tug-of-war. On one side stands a governor committed to a specific vision of civil rights; on the other stand sheriffs who believe they are being forced to release “people who will be missed”—individuals who pose a direct threat to the communities they serve .
The standoff in Maryland is more than just a local dispute; it is a microcosm of the intense national debate over immigration, public safety, and the limits of state versus local authority. With the sheriffs refusing to back down and the governor holding his ground, the “great state of Maryland” is indeed “going loco,” as local lawmen prepare to fight for what they believe is the safety and security of their homes, one jurisdiction at a time.
