New York City’s decision this week to end its $220 million contract with the Pakistan-owned Roosevelt Hotel has handed President Donald J. Trump an early triumph in his push to curb immigration and redirect public spending. Since May 2023, the midtown Manhattan property, owned by Pakistan International Airlines, had served as a migrant shelter, housing arrivals at roughly $200 per night across its 1,025 rooms. With the deal now set to expire by June, the question looming in Washington is what Mr. Trump will do next to capitalize on this shift—a move that could ripple beyond the city’s borders.
The administration’s role in dismantling the arrangement has been unmistakable. For months, Mr. Trump and his allies criticized the contract as a misuse of taxpayer money, funneling funds to a foreign entity while addressing a migrant influx they have vowed to stop. Earlier this month, Kristi Noem, the homeland security secretary, seized $80 million in Federal Emergency Management Agency funds earmarked for New York’s migrant programs, pointing to alleged criminal activity at the hotel—including unverified ties to gang activity. Mayor Eric Adams responded with a lawsuit to recover the money, deepening a standoff that underscores the president’s influence.
What comes next may hinge on Mr. Trump’s broader goals. One possibility, suggested by administration insiders, is a nationwide review of public contracts with foreign-owned properties. The Roosevelt’s role as a revenue stream for Pakistan, a nation grappling with economic woes, has fueled calls from Vivek Ramaswamy—co-leader of the new Department of Government Efficiency with Elon Musk—to audit similar deals. Cities like Chicago and Los Angeles, burdened by migrant housing costs, could find themselves in the crosshairs of such an effort, aligning with Mr. Trump’s pledge to prioritize American resources.
Immigration enforcement offers another path. With migrant arrivals in New York dropping sharply—to 350 per week from a peak of 4,000 in 2023, a decline the administration credits to its policies—the Department of Homeland Security has floated plans to deport individuals processed through the Roosevelt. Such a move would test New York’s sanctuary city status, potentially igniting a legal battle with national implications. Political analysts note it could also energize Mr. Trump’s supporters as the 2026 midterms approach, framing Democrats as defenders of porous borders.
A less confrontational option might involve diplomacy. Pakistan stands to lose a financial lifeline tied to its $1.1 billion International Monetary Fund bailout, and the White House could use this leverage to extract concessions—perhaps on security cooperation or trade terms. While no negotiations have surfaced publicly, this tactic would echo Mr. Trump’s past blending of domestic wins with international pressure.
Revisiting the Roosevelt as a personal venture seems unlikely. In 2020, Mr. Trump reportedly considered buying the property, but his current focus appears fixed on policy, not real estate. For now, the hotel’s closure shifts New York’s migrant services elsewhere, a practical outcome of a broader ideological fight. Whether Mr. Trump pursues audits, deportations, or diplomatic gains, his administration views the Roosevelt’s end as a springboard—one that could redefine the intersection of immigration, spending, and federal power in the months ahead.