Jacksonville Mayor Donna Deegan took a calculated step into the national spotlight last week — not with a signature, but with a refusal to show leadership by either signing or vetoing immigration legislation.

In a moment that may well define her first term, Deegan chose not to veto or sign a sweeping immigration ordinance passed by the City Council. Her refusal to act allowed the legislation — the first of its kind in any U.S. city — to quietly become law, criminalizing the presence of undocumented immigrants within Jacksonville city limits. The new ordinance mandates jail time: 30 days for a first offense, 60 for repeat violations.

The decision has drawn sharp lines across Jacksonville’s political landscape. On one side: loud, progressive voices denouncing the law as redundant, dangerous, and legally dubious. On the other: a quieter, but likely more sizable majority of residents and officials who see the measure as a necessary step for public safety and local alignment with federal immigration enforcement.

A Mayor in the Crosshairs

Flanked by Democrat affiliated religious leaders, immigration attorneys, and community advocates, Deegan made her position clear: “I do not believe this bill is necessary. And I will not sign it.” She argued that Jacksonville already complies with federal and state immigration laws, and the ordinance merely duplicates those efforts while risking community trust and expensive litigation.

Yet she declined to veto the bill — a move she framed as strategic, not passive. With 12 council votes in support, a veto override wasn’t guaranteed, but Deegan said she saw no "clear path" to success and was unwilling to expend political capital on a battle she deemed symbolic.

“It’s not worth sacrificing all that we have left to do in this city,” she said.

To critics like Councilman Kevin Carrico, who sponsored the legislation, that explanation fell flat. “Punting and playing politics on an issue as critical as this is disappointing,” he said, calling the law’s passage “a win for the safety of Jacksonville families.” Florida Attorney General James Uthmeier was even more blunt: “It takes a lot of courage to hold a press conference and announce that you’re doing nothing.”

A Deepening Divide

The politics surrounding the bill reflect a broader national tension: vocal progressive activists versus a more reserved, but deeply concerned, electorate. While opponents have labeled the bill unconstitutional and discriminatory, council votes and public sentiment indicate quiet, widespread support for tighter immigration controls.

Even some Democrats have struggled with how to respond. Councilman Jimmy Peluso, a white Democrat representing Jacksonville’s diverse Downtown, Riverside, and Avondale neighborhoods, has been one of the most vocal critics of the bill. Though absent for the final vote, he later compared the ordinance to Jim Crow-era “sundown laws,” warning that it could lead to wrongful detention of law-abiding residents simply for existing in public spaces.

“This feels very much like a sundown law to me,” Peluso said during a local radio appearance. “It’s a disgusting stain on our city.”

He argued the ordinance would further strain Duval County’s aging jail system and erode trust between police and immigrant communities. “If we’re putting people in there who are just trying to live in our city, get a job, maybe drive their kid to school,” he said, “what we’re doing is putting our JSO officers in a position where they’re not going to get called into certain communities. People are afraid.”

On the other side, Councilman Nick Howland, an at-large Republican, defended the measure as a necessary tool for public safety. He cited data showing Jacksonville law enforcement detained 602 undocumented immigrants in 2024, with 334 transferred to ICE. “This law gives JSO another tool,” he said. “It empowers our officers to hold people until ICE can step in.”

Howland also pushed back against concerns over profiling: “It doesn’t implement stop-and-frisk. The only people this law affects are those who’ve already broken immigration laws.”

The Legal Storm Ahead

Immigration attorney Vilerka Bilbao warned the law is legally vulnerable and may draw constitutional challenges similar Jacksonville Mayor Donna Deegan took a calculated step into the national spotlight last week — not with a signature, but with a refusal to show leadership by either signing or vetoing immigration legislation.

In a moment that may well define her first term, Deegan chose not to veto or sign a sweeping immigration ordinance passed by the City Council. Her refusal to act allowed the legislation — the first of its kind in any U.S. city — to quietly become law, criminalizing the presence of undocumented immigrants within Jacksonville city limits. The new ordinance mandates jail time: 30 days for a first offense, 60 for repeat violations.

The decision has drawn sharp lines across Jacksonville’s political landscape. On one side: loud, progressive voices denouncing the law as redundant, dangerous, and legally dubious. On the other: a quieter, but likely more sizable majority of residents and officials who see the measure as a necessary step for public safety and local alignment with federal immigration enforcement.

A Mayor in the Crosshairs

Flanked by Democrat affiliated religious leaders, immigration attorneys, and community advocates, Deegan made her position clear: “I do not believe this bill is necessary. And I will not sign it.” She argued that Jacksonville already complies with federal and state immigration laws, and the ordinance merely duplicates those efforts while risking community trust and expensive litigation.

Yet she declined to veto the bill — a move she framed as strategic, not passive. With 12 council votes in support, a veto override wasn’t guaranteed, but Deegan said she saw no "clear path" to success and was unwilling to expend political capital on a battle she deemed symbolic.

“It’s not worth sacrificing all that we have left to do in this city,” she said.

To critics like Councilman Kevin Carrico, who sponsored the legislation, that explanation fell flat. “Punting and playing politics on an issue as critical as this is disappointing,” he said, calling the law’s passage “a win for the safety of Jacksonville families.” Florida Attorney General James Uthmeier was even more blunt: “It takes a lot of courage to hold a press conference and announce that you’re doing nothing.”

A Deepening Divide

The politics surrounding the bill reflect a broader national tension: vocal progressive activists versus a more reserved, but deeply concerned, electorate. While opponents have labeled the bill unconstitutional and discriminatory, council votes and public sentiment indicate quiet, widespread support for tighter immigration controls.

Even some Democrats have struggled with how to respond. Councilman Jimmy Peluso, a white Democrat representing Jacksonville’s diverse Downtown, Riverside, and Avondale neighborhoods, has been one of the most vocal critics of the bill. Though absent for the final vote, he later compared the ordinance to Jim Crow-era “sundown laws,” warning that it could lead to wrongful detention of law-abiding residents simply for existing in public spaces.

“This feels very much like a sundown law to me,” Peluso said during a local radio appearance. “It’s a disgusting stain on our city.”

He argued the ordinance would further strain Duval County’s aging jail system and erode trust between police and immigrant communities. “If we’re putting people in there who are just trying to live in our city, get a job, maybe drive their kid to school,” he said, “what we’re doing is putting our JSO officers in a position where they’re not going to get called into certain communities. People are afraid.”

On the other side, Councilman Nick Howland, an at-large Republican, defended the measure as a necessary tool for public safety. He cited data showing Jacksonville law enforcement detained 602 undocumented immigrants in 2024, with 334 transferred to ICE. “This law gives JSO another tool,” he said. “It empowers our officers to hold people until ICE can step in.”

Howland also pushed back against concerns over profiling: “It doesn’t implement stop-and-frisk. The only people this law affects are those who’ve already broken immigration laws.”

The Legal Storm Ahead

Immigration attorney Vilerka Bilbao warned the law is legally vulnerable and may draw constitutional challenges similar to those tied up in courts in Texas, Iowa, and Oklahoma. “This bill will very likely get challenged as unconstitutional,” she said, pointing to federal supremacy in immigration law.

Deegan echoed that concern, calling the ordinance an overreach into federal jurisdiction. “This bill puts our local government in a lane where it doesn’t belong,” she said, questioning the fiscal prudence of inviting litigation over a law that mirrors — and in some cases, weakens — already existing state penalties.

Still, supporters like Howland insist local leaders can’t legislate in fear. “The courts decide constitutionality,” he said. “Our job is to do what’s right for the city.”

What This Means for Deegan’s Future

Mayor Deegan’s choice to let the law take effect without her signature reflects an attempt to hold political center in an increasingly polarized city. Her approach — denouncing the bill while declining to block it — risks frustrating both sides: too cautious for progressives, too defiant for conservatives.

Critics see her move as indecision disguised as pragmatism, warning it could signal a broader unwillingness to fight hard battles. But her allies argue she avoided a likely futile veto fight and preserved her ability to govern without further dividing the city.

In a state where Republican power is firmly entrenched and in a city where the electorate is ideologically mixed, Deegan’s calculated silence may be the only way forward — but it won’t be the last time she’s asked to choose between principles and pragmatism.

The Bigger Question

What does Jacksonville’s immigration law really represent?

To its supporters, it’s a bold stand against federal inaction and a public declaration that the city will not become a sanctuary jurisdiction. To its opponents, it’s an unconstitutional overreach, rooted in fear rather than fact. To Mayor Donna Deegan, it may be something else entirely: a lesson in the limits of mayoral power — and the political cost of compromise in a deeply divided city.to those tied up in courts in Texas, Iowa, and Oklahoma. “This bill will very likely get challenged as unconstitutional,” she said, pointing to federal supremacy in immigration law.

Deegan echoed that concern, calling the ordinance an overreach into federal jurisdiction. “This bill puts our local government in a lane where it doesn’t belong,” she said, questioning the fiscal prudence of inviting litigation over a law that mirrors — and in some cases, weakens — already existing state penalties.

Still, supporters like Howland insist local leaders can’t legislate in fear. “The courts decide constitutionality,” he said. “Our job is to do what’s right for the city.”

What This Means for Deegan’s Future

Mayor Deegan’s choice to let the law take effect without her signature reflects an attempt to hold political center in an increasingly polarized city. Her approach — denouncing the bill while declining to block it — risks frustrating both sides: too cautious for progressives, too defiant for conservatives.

Critics see her move as indecision disguised as pragmatism, warning it could signal a broader unwillingness to fight hard battles. But her allies argue she avoided a likely futile veto fight and preserved her ability to govern without further dividing the city.

In a state where Republican power is firmly entrenched and in a city where the electorate is ideologically mixed, Deegan’s calculated silence may be the only way forward — but it won’t be the last time she’s asked to choose between principles and pragmatism.

The Bigger Question

What does Jacksonville’s immigration law really represent?

To its supporters, it’s a bold stand against federal inaction and a public declaration that the city will not become a sanctuary jurisdiction. To its opponents, it’s an unconstitutional overreach, rooted in fear rather than fact. To Mayor Donna Deegan, it may be something else entirely: a lesson in the limits of mayoral power — and the political cost of compromise in a deeply divided city.