Dangerous Anti-ICE Rhetoric from Mayor Frey & Gov Walz Fuels Chaos

When the rhetoric of elected officials prioritizes political posturing over public safety, communities don’t become safer—they become powder kegs waiting to ignite, and Minneapolis just proved it.

Story Snapshot

Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey and Governor Tim Walz launched lawsuits and demanded ICE withdrawal after January 2026 federal raids, escalating tensions rather than calming them.
Over 15,000 protesters flooded Minneapolis streets amid deadly subzero temperatures following a fatal ICE shooting, leading to riots, business shutdowns, and church invasions.
More than 700 businesses closed on January 23 in an “economic blackout,” crippling the local Somali economy while clergy and attorneys faced arrests during protests.
The chaos delivered no reduction in deportations or federal enforcement, only millions in economic losses and strained federal-local relations.

The Fatal Spark That Lit the Fuse

January 7, 2026, transformed Minneapolis into a war zone after an ICE agent fatally shot Renee Good in her vehicle. Video footage circulated rapidly, drawing hundreds of protesters within hours. A week later, another shooting occurred when a man allegedly assaulted an agent, resulting in tear gas deployment near a family vehicle. These incidents became rallying cries for activists, but the real accelerant was what came next: elected leaders chose confrontation over de-escalation, filing lawsuits against federal agencies while publicly condemning enforcement operations as unlawful racial profiling.

Leadership Rhetoric Poured Gasoline on the Fire

Frey and Walz positioned themselves as defenders of immigrant communities, launching legal action demanding temporary restraining orders against ICE for alleged excessive force and profiling at sensitive locations. Walz voiced public outrage over the shootings and called for federal removal from Minnesota entirely. Frey estimated protest crowds at 15,000 and framed ICE operations as making the city less safe. Their messaging gave moral cover to increasingly aggressive demonstrations, including church invasions that law enforcement experts condemned as illegal intimidation tactics disguised as peaceful protest.

The January 23 peak saw coordinated chaos: over 700 businesses shuttered in solidarity, clergy members arrested at the airport, and daily marches continuing despite wind chills plummeting to minus 40 degrees Fahrenheit. Activist Kate Havelin from Indivisible Twin Cities compared ICE enforcement to a “snow emergency,” justifying the economic blackout. Faith leaders like Bishop Royster demanded “ICE out” for federal overreach. These actions paralyzed commerce, closed schools and universities, and exposed protesters to hypothermia risks, all while federal deportation operations continued unabated.

The Chaos Delivered Zero Protection

What did Minneapolis residents gain from this theatrical resistance? Not safety. Not reduced enforcement. Federal agents continued raids targeting gang members and sex offenders as part of the Trump administration’s second-term crackdown on illegal immigrant criminals. The lawsuit seeking body cameras and operational restrictions remained unresolved while immigrant communities retreated into self-isolation, fueling black markets and eroding trust in all law enforcement. Families like the Jacksons endured tear gas exposure during confrontations. Somali-owned businesses absorbed devastating revenue losses. The only measurable outcome was chaos: riots, clashes, arrests, and millions in economic damage.

When Sanctuary Policies Meet Reality

Minneapolis’s sanctuary city status, meant to protect vulnerable populations, instead became a liability when local leaders weaponized it against federal authority. The scale of protests—15,000 strong in brutal winter conditions—distinguished Minneapolis from other cities facing similar ICE operations. But the violence and disruption weren’t unique; Los Angeles had already deployed the National Guard during June 2025 riots. What made Minneapolis noteworthy was the public cheerleading from Frey and Walz, whose anti-ICE lawsuit partnered the city, St. Paul, and the state against federal enforcers, creating a blueprint for sanctuary cities nationwide to escalate rather than cooperate.

Law enforcement experts analyzing the protests identified critical failures in crowd control and leadership, noting that allowing church invasions and intimidation tactics set dangerous precedents. The message sent wasn’t about compassion or justice—it was about power, with elected officials leveraging immigrant fears to score political points while federal operations proceeded unchecked. The conservative critique rings true here: rhetoric that prioritizes resistance theater over practical solutions doesn’t protect anyone. It manufactures chaos, then asks citizens to clean up the wreckage while leaders claim moral victories from behind podiums.

The Bill Comes Due

Short-term consequences already stack high: hundreds of arrests, shuttered businesses, families traumatized by tear gas and gunfire, schools closed, and communities fractured along ideological lines. Long-term damage looms larger. Federal-local relations remain poisoned by the lawsuit, potentially inviting National Guard deployment if protests reignite. Immigrant communities now distrust both ICE and local authorities who promised protection but delivered only confrontation. The economic toll—millions lost during the January 23 blackout alone—compounds existing pressures on minority-owned businesses already struggling post-pandemic. Meanwhile, the Trump administration’s enforcement narrative gains validation every time sanctuary cities descend into disorder, weakening progressive credibility nationwide.

The fundamental question persists: did Frey and Walz’s anti-ICE crusade make Minneapolis safer, or did it simply trade one form of instability for another? The evidence suggests the latter. Federal deportations continued. Criminal enforcement operations proceeded. But Minneapolis gained riots, economic devastation, and a national reputation as a city where elected leaders chose symbolic resistance over competent governance. That’s not protection—it’s political malpractice dressed up as compassion, and the residents paying the price deserve leaders who prioritize their actual safety over applause lines at activist rallies.