Wayne Ford is the executive director of Wayne Ford Equity Impact Institute and co-Director of the Emmy Award winning Brown and Black Forums of America. He is a former member of the Iowa legislature and the founder and former executive director of Urban Dreams.
Washington, D.C. has always been more than just another city. It is the nation’s capital, a symbol of democracy, and a unique jurisdiction caught between local self-governance and federal control. Today, it has also become the latest flashpoint in America’s ongoing debate about crime, politics, and presidential power.
Mayor Muriel Bowser recently acknowledged that the federal surge of law enforcement—including the deployment of the National Guard ordered by President Donald Trump—has coincided with a sharp drop in crime. Carjackings fell by 87 percent. Overall violent crime was cut nearly in half. And, in a milestone for the city, Washington went twelve consecutive days without a single homicide.
The numbers are dramatic. Headlines on cable news have trumpeted them as proof that federal power works. Bowser herself admitted that the crackdown “brought results,” even though she expressed concerns about the heavy presence of federal officers in local neighborhoods.
But here is the crucial point: these statistics represent only a few weeks of data. They are not proof of a long-term trend. Just as crime patterns fluctuate with seasons, neighborhoods, and economic cycles, a short-term dip can reflect immediate deterrence without changing the deeper conditions that drive violence. That distinction matters if we are to think seriously about Washington, D.C. and its future.
A LOOK BACK AT HISTORY
This is not the first time a president has been faced with the question of whether to send the National Guard into Washington, D.C. History shows that federal involvement has always been complicated, often producing unintended consequences.
In 1993, Mayor Sharon Pratt Kelly formally requested National Guard assistance to deal with drugs and violence on the streets. President Bill Clinton refused. He argued that it was not legally permissible and instead offered federal support in different forms, while keeping the Guard out of the city. Clinton’s choice reflected caution—a recognition that deploying soldiers in a civilian context could do more harm than good.
President Ronald Reagan’s Department of Justice took a different approach in the 1980s. The administration pushed a “tough on crime” agenda meant to stem drug violence. While these measures were politically popular at the time, they produced harsh sentencing disparities between crack and powder cocaine. Those disparities devastated Black communities for decades, filling prisons with young men whose lives and families were torn apart by laws that treated the same drug differently depending on who was using it.
Wayne Ford in front of the White House
Go back further, and you will find additional examples of tension between local leaders and federal authorities. At different moments in history, presidents have either resisted or embraced the use of federal power in the capital. What is consistent is the struggle over who truly governs Washington: its mayor and residents, or the federal government that looms over it.
WHY D.C. IS DIFFERENT
To understand the current debate, one must first understand D.C.’s uniqueness. Washington is not a state, and it is not a fully independent city. It is a federal district, created by the Constitution, overseen by Congress, and heavily shaped by national politics.
Residents of Washington pay federal taxes, fight in wars, and vote in presidential elections, yet they have no voting representation in Congress. They raise billions in local revenue, but Congress has final authority over how that money is spent. Today, the city is facing a $1 billion budget deficit—a reality that makes it even more dependent on congressional approval.
That imbalance leaves the mayor with far less leverage than leaders in Chicago, Los Angeles, or Houston. In those cities, mayors can negotiate with governors and local legislatures to shape policy. In Washington, D.C., the mayor must constantly navigate a dual reality: accountable to local residents on one hand, and bound by federal authority on the other.
The Anacostia neighborhood in southeast Washington, D.C., where Wayne Ford grew up
This is why Trump could invoke Section 740 of the Home Rule Act to federalize the city’s police and deploy the Guard. It is a power that would be far harder to exercise in any state-run city. Washington, D.C. is uniquely positioned—or trapped—under the authority of the federal government.
LEGAL QUESTIONS AROUND THE GUARD
Beyond politics and headlines, there is a deeper question that deserves attention: what happens when the National Guard is used for civilian policing?
The Guard is trained and equipped as a military force. Its primary mission is to fight wars and respond to national emergencies, not to patrol neighborhoods or police city streets. When Guard personnel are deployed in an urban setting, legal and practical challenges immediately surface.
• Rules of Engagement: In most civilian missions, the Guard operates under strict rules of engagement that limit when weapons can be carried or used. But those rules vary, and they are not always clear to the public.
• Liability: If a Guard member injures or kills a civilian during a mission like this, who is legally responsible — the federal government, the D.C. government, or the individual soldier? Few residents know the answer, and even lawmakers often struggle to untangle the web of military law and civilian liability.
• Posse Comitatus: There are longstanding federal restrictions on the use of the military for domestic law enforcement, known as the Posse Comitatus Act. The National Guard, when under state control, has more flexibility — but once federalized by the President, its authority becomes more complicated.
These questions matter, because the use of the Guard in Washington is not just about statistics. It is about putting soldiers in roles they were never primarily designed for. As military leaders themselves often remind us, the Guard’s job is to defend the nation in war or respond to disasters—not to replace police officers on the streets of America’s capital.
FROM D.C. STREETS TO STATE LEGISLATION
I write about Washington, D.C. not only as a former lawmaker but as someone who grew up in its streets. As a young man, I was caught up in the juvenile justice system myself. I know firsthand what it means when opportunity is scarce and crime seems like the only path forward.
Years later, after moving to Iowa and being elected to the legislature, I worked to change that system. In 2008, I authored the minority impact statement legislation—the first of its kind in the nation. I pushed that bill because at the time, Iowa had the highest rate of incarceration for Black men in America. And ironically, Washington, D.C.—the city where I was born and raised—ranked number two.
That law required Iowa policymakers to measure how new sentencing and criminal justice proposals would affect minority communities. Under Iowa Code Section 8.11, the definition was explicit: “Minority persons includes individuals who are women, persons with a disability, African Americans, Latinos, Asians or Pacific Islanders.”
It was a simple idea, but it helped Iowa confront disparities that had plagued its system for decades. The result? Iowa is no longer number one in Black incarceration—progress documented by both Governing magazine and Axios.
The law’s influence did not stop there. It became a national model. Today, approximately three-quarters of U.S. states have either enacted or drafted similar legislation. In Congress, Representative Ritchie Torres of New York has even introduced federal legislation modeled on the Iowa law—in my name. That means an idea born in one of the whitest states in America is now being debated at the federal level, with potential consequences for the very city we are talking about today: Washington, D.C.
State Senator Izaah Knox (left) with former State Representative Wayne Ford at the state capitol
The lesson is clear: laws of equity and fair play can do more to improve public safety than short-term crackdowns. When we change the rules of the system itself, we not only reduce incarceration but also rebuild trust in the justice system. That is as important to safety as any patrol or checkpoint.
THE CRIME NUMBERS IN D.C.
There is no denying the recent improvement in D.C.’s crime statistics.
Carjackings fell by 87 percent. Homicides dropped nearly 40 percent. Robberies and burglaries both fell by double digits. Federal agents reported more guns seized and more arrests made.
These figures, repeated across television networks and newspapers, have fueled claims that the National Guard was the missing piece in restoring safety to Washington’s streets. Supporters of the crackdown argue that the Guard’s presence provided the kind of forceful deterrence needed to restore order in neighborhoods long plagued by violence.
Yet the broader context matters. Crime in D.C. was already trending downward before the Guard arrived. The city had been experiencing declines from earlier spikes, and 2024 marked a thirty-year low in violent crime overall. The federal surge accelerated a process that was already underway, but it did not create the conditions for improvement.
Short-term deterrence is not the same as long-term reform. Flooding neighborhoods with armed personnel may reduce immediate incidents, but it does not change the deeper issues of poverty, inequality, lack of opportunity, and distrust in law enforcement that fuel crime in the first place. True public safety requires schools that work, jobs that pay, and housing that is stable. Numbers can shift in weeks; institutions take decades to change.
THE POLITICAL SPIN
The political stakes of the D.C. crackdown are obvious.
Some will say the drop in crime proves that a strong “law and order” approach works, and that the president was right to use his authority. For Republicans, the images of federal troops and falling crime rates serve as powerful talking points, reinforcing their narrative of strength and control.
Others will point out that many of the nation’s highest crime rates are in Republican-led states and cities. Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, and Missouri consistently rank near the top in violent crime rates per capita, despite having full control over their budgets and police forces. For Democrats, this contrast undercuts the claim that “law and order” can simply be imposed from above.
The debate is less about crime itself than about which story will dominate in the 2026 and 2028 elections. Republicans will use D.C. as a showcase for federal power. Democrats will highlight that the capital’s circumstances are unique, shaped by its deficit, its lack of representation, and its unusual vulnerability to presidential control.
The truth, however, lies somewhere in between. Short-term results do not equal long-term solutions. And political spin does not solve the daily challenges faced by residents who live in neighborhoods where trust, opportunity, and safety are fragile.
THE BOTTOM LINE
Washington, D.C. is not Chicago, Los Angeles, or Houston. It is not a city that can simply be compared to others when it comes to policing, governance, or federal intervention. It is a federal city — a place without full sovereignty, where the mayor governs under the shadow of Congress and the President.
The latest crackdown has produced immediate results, but the long-term implications are uncertain. Will crime stay down when the Guard leaves? Will residents rebuild trust with federal officers? Will Congress address the structural imbalance that leaves the city in deficit while denying it full representation?
Some will say the D.C. experiment proves “law and order” works. Others will point to higher crime in Republican-led states and argue that the nation’s capital is being unfairly singled out. Both claims miss the deeper reality: Washington, D.C. is a city caught between local residents and national politics.
What happens in the capital should not be treated as a blueprint for the rest of the country. It is a unique case—one that reveals the limits of federal power, the fragility of local democracy, and the dangers of reducing complex challenges to partisan talking points.
The future of Washington will not be determined by soldiers on the streets but by whether America is willing to give its capital what every other city already has: the dignity of self-government, the resources to balance its budget, and the trust that safety is built not by short-term crackdowns but by long-term investment in people.
References
1. The Sentencing Project. Report: Racial Impact Statements (2022).
2. Congressional Research Service. The Posse Comitatus Act and Related Matters (2018).
3. Iowa Code § 8.11 (2023).
4. Governing Magazine; Axios (2021–2022) reporting on Iowa’s racial disparity progress.
5. The Sentencing Project (2022); Early Success Collaborative (2022). Reports showing ~¾ of states have introduced or enacted racial/minority impact legislation.
6. U.S. Representative Ritchie Torres. Racial Impact Statement Act of 2022.
Top image: Members of the National Guard stand by at Union Station, Washington, DC, on August 29, 2025. Photo by Philip Yabut, available via Shutterstock.