Roland Mehrez Beainy, the 28-year-old Lebanese co-owner of Texas’s Trump Burger chain, has found himself thrust into the national spotlight for reasons far beyond his viral MAGA-themed menu. According to Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), Beainy now faces deportation after allegedly overstaying his visa and, in a twist that’s drawn even more attention, orchestrating what federal officials call a “sham” marriage to obtain legal residency. His case, unfolding against the backdrop of a politically charged immigration climate, has ignited debate over the intersection of business, politics, and the law.
Beainy’s journey began in 2019, when he entered the United States on a non-immigrant visitor visa. Under the terms of his admission, he was required to leave by February 12, 2024. As ICE confirmed to The Hill and Houston Public Media, Beainy failed to depart as required. On May 16, 2025, ICE officers arrested him, placing him into immigration proceedings. An immigration judge later granted him bond on June 13, 2025, allowing him to await the outcome of his case outside detention.
ICE officials have made their stance clear. In a statement to The Daily Beast, a spokesperson said, “Despite false claims to the contrary, Roland Mehrez Beainy does not have any immigration benefits that prevented his arrest or removal from the United States. Beainy is a 28-year-old illegal alien from Lebanon who entered the United States in 2019 as a non-immigrant visitor, but he failed to depart by Feb. 12, 2024, as required under the terms of his admission.” The agency emphasized, “Under the current administration, ICE is committed to restore integrity to our nation’s immigration system by holding all individuals accountable who illegally enter the country or overstay the terms of their admission. This is true regardless of what restaurant you own or political beliefs you might have.”
But Beainy’s legal troubles don’t stop at immigration. The Department of Homeland Security has accused him of staging a sham marriage in an attempt to secure a green card. According to a DHS spokesperson, “USCIS revoked the petition after evidence, including admissions from the petitioner’s own family, exposed his marriage as a sham designed to game the system. This person has no green card, a history of illegal marriages, and an assault charge. DHS is actively pursuing all legal avenues to address this flagrant abuse of our immigration laws.”
Beainy, for his part, has pushed back. Speaking to Chron, he asserted, “90 percent of the s--t they’re saying is not true.” He declined to elaborate further, citing the advice of his attorney. Beainy’s legal representative has also declined to comment publicly.
Beyond the courtroom, Beainy is embroiled in multiple civil disputes tied to his burger empire. One ongoing lawsuit pits him against his business partner, Iyad Abuelhawa (also known as Eddie Hawa), over the sale of a 50 percent stake in the business. Beainy claims he purchased his share for $65,000, while Hawa contends there was no written agreement and is seeking $1 million in damages. Meanwhile, Beainy is suing the landlord of the Kemah Trump Burger location, Archie Patterson, for allegedly commandeering the restaurant after a dispute over a liquor license. In response, Patterson has rebranded the Kemah outpost as MAGA Burger USA and countersued Beainy and his associates for unpaid fees.
Despite these legal headwinds, the Trump Burger chain has rapidly expanded since its founding in 2020. The first location opened in Bellville, Texas, with subsequent franchises popping up in Flatonia, Houston, and Bay City. The Houston grand opening took place on April 19, 2025, at 3410 Chimney Rock Road, marking the fourth location in the area. The restaurants are instantly recognizable: American flags hang from the walls, buns are stamped with the word “TRUMP,” and a Trump impersonator sometimes mingles with customers. The menu leans heavily into the political theme, offering items like the 8-ounce Trump Burger—touted as “a burger so great, so tremendous, it should have its own skyscraper!”—and the Trump Tower, a 16-ounce behemoth with double cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, pickles, and the house “Trump Sauce.” There are also menu nods to former First Lady Melania Trump and Barron Trump, as well as a joke “Biden Burger,” described by Eater as featuring “a 1 oz patty with old tomato and the oldest buns available due to cheating and inflation.”
Not everyone has been impressed. Eater described the burgers as “thick but bland,” with “waxy cheese,” though the fries earned a more favorable review as “crisp.” The restaurant’s décor, loaded with life-size Trump posters, flags, and MAGA merchandise, has been described as blurring the line between eatery and political rally.
Interestingly, while Beainy’s business has capitalized on the Trump name, it hasn’t always sat well with the former president’s own company. In February 2025, The Trump Organization sent Trump Burger a cease-and-desist letter, accusing the restaurant of “flagrantly infringing upon the Trump Organization’s valuable and well-established intellectual property right” by using the Trump name and brand. The Trump Organization has not publicly commented further, and the White House has declined to weigh in on Beainy’s arrest and deportation proceedings.
Beainy’s story has struck a nerve in a state where immigration and politics are perennial hot topics. Supporters of stricter immigration enforcement argue that Beainy’s case is a textbook example of why visa overstays must be addressed firmly, regardless of the individual’s business profile or political leanings. “ICE is committed to restore integrity to our nation’s immigration system,” the agency reiterated, underscoring a policy of equal enforcement.
Others, however, see the situation as a cautionary tale about the complexities and pitfalls of America’s immigration labyrinth—especially as it intersects with entrepreneurial ambition. The fact that Beainy’s restaurants have become a cultural touchstone for some Trump supporters, while simultaneously drawing legal fire from both the federal government and Trump’s own company, adds a layer of irony that hasn’t gone unnoticed by observers across the political spectrum.
For now, Roland Mehrez Beainy remains out on bond, awaiting the next chapter in his legal saga. With his fate—and the future of the Trump Burger brand—hanging in the balance, the story continues to unfold at the intersection of law, politics, and the American fast-food dream.