BOSTON — Boston had a full-blown meltdown last week after ICE arrested a man in Roslindale, complete with neighbors panicking, activists screaming “abduction,” and a city councilor rushing to the nearest camera like it was a five-alarm fire.

The scene itself was chaotic enough. ICE agents pulled a driver out of his car on a busy street, left the vehicle idling in traffic, and a nearby business owner stepped in to move it so the road wouldn’t stay blocked. That’s the moment social media seized on: ICE chaos, dangerous streets, people just trying to live their lives.

Then came the hysteria.

Wu ally Enrique Pepén publicly described the arrest as an “abduction,” warning that neighbors shouldn’t have to fear running errands and casting the whole thing as some kind of human-rights crisis unfolding outside a Family Dollar.

That narrative quickly unraveled.

Federal officials pushed back forcefully. “ICE did NOT abduct anyone,” said Tricia McLaughlin, adding that the man arrested is a ‘criminal illegal alien’ charged with trafficking cocaine and fentanyl and living under a stolen identity, according to federal authorities.

That detail landed with a dull thud — because it didn’t fit the script.

This is the part Boston’s loudest voices never seem prepared for. The second ICE is involved, context evaporates. It doesn’t matter who the person is, what they’re accused of, or why federal agents are there. The reflex is always the same: panic first, facts later — if ever.

And that’s how you end up with elected officials bending over backward to defend the wrong people.

No one is saying ICE handled the optics perfectly. Leaving a car in the middle of the street is sloppy. Neighbors being confused is understandable. But turning a routine federal arrest into a citywide moral emergency — while downplaying serious drug trafficking allegations — is how trust gets burned.

Boston residents are right to care about their community. They should care about fentanyl ripping through neighborhoods. They should care about stolen identities. They should care about public safety more than viral outrage.

Instead, too many of the city’s “woke” activists and politicians seem far more comfortable yelling at ICE than asking why a criminal accused of moving cocaine and fentanyl was living and operating here in the first place.

Mayor Michelle Wu didn’t personally label this arrest an abduction, but this episode sits squarely inside the political culture she’s helped create — one where City Hall treats federal immigration enforcement as the enemy, no matter the facts. Yes, Massachusetts’ legal landscape makes detainers messy. Yes, the courts have tied local hands. But pretending those constraints justify performative outrage is just lazy leadership.

If Boston leaders stopped trying to score points by pandering — and started being honest about who ICE is actually arresting — maybe every enforcement action wouldn’t trigger a neighborhood panic attack.

Because here’s the uncomfortable truth: when officials rush to defend criminals accused of fentanyl trafficking, they’re not protecting the community.

They’re embarrassing it.