The Coalition Behind Minnesota’s ICE Resistance: Labor, Faith, Immigrants
When 50,000 people march through minus-20-degree weather—cold enough to cause frostbite in minutes—you’re witnessing something beyond ordinary protest. That’s what happened in Minneapolis on January 23, 2026, when labor unions, religious leaders, and immigrant communities shut down the Twin Cities in response to a massive federal immigration raid, the largest ever deployed to a single metropolitan area.
Within six weeks, this coalition forced federal officials to pull back their forces. The campaign mobilized an estimated 50,000 to 75,000 people in subzero temperatures, closed hundreds of businesses across the Twin Cities, resulted in over 100 religious leaders arrested during civil disobedience, and kept up daily direct action for more than six weeks.
Two Deaths and a Surge
Operation Metro Surge began in December 2025 when the Department of Homeland Security deployed approximately 3,000 ICE officers and 1,000 Customs and Border Protection officers throughout Minnesota. Tom Homan, the White House official in charge of border enforcement, said the operation targeted public safety threats among the undocumented population.
The operation generated immediate opposition based on reports of racial profiling, constitutional violations, and raids in schools, hospitals, and churches—places ICE had usually avoided.
The trigger for mass mobilization came on January 7, 2026, when ICE agent Jonathan Ross fatally shot Renée Nicole Good, a 37-year-old American citizen watching and recording ICE operations from her vehicle in Minneapolis. The medical examiner ruled the shooting a homicide, yet federal authorities said only federal officials could investigate and wouldn’t let Minnesota officials see the evidence.
Sixteen days later, organizers called for a statewide “Day of Truth & Freedom” featuring a coordinated “no work, no school, no shopping” general strike. The main march went from US Bank Stadium to the Target Center in temperatures reaching minus 20 to minus 21 degrees Fahrenheit. Hundreds of businesses, cultural institutions, restaurants, and retail establishments across the Twin Cities closed in solidarity.
Then, one day after nearly 100 clergy members were arrested at Minneapolis-Saint Paul International Airport protesting ICE deportation flights, federal agents fatally shot Alex Pretti, a 37-year-old intensive care nurse and union member at the Department of Veterans Affairs hospital. Pretti was shot multiple times by Border Patrol agents during a federal raid in the Whittier neighborhood. A physician present at the scene reported that agents prevented him from providing medical care to Pretti while the officers “appeared to be counting bullet holes rather than providing first aid.”
These two fatal shootings of American citizens—one engaged in legal observation, the other a healthcare worker—changed the movement from opposing federal overreach into a campaign centered on accountability for loss of life.
Who Showed Up
The resistance campaign represented an alliance of labor unions representing hundreds of thousands of workers, faith institutions with centuries of organizing experience, immigrant rights organizations with deep community roots, emerging student movements, and neighborhood-based community organizations.
Labor’s Coordination
Service Employees International Union (SEIU) Local 26, representing over 8,000 janitors, security officers, and window cleaners across the Twin Cities, served as a core organizing force. Union president Greg Nammacher reported that 95 percent of members indicated intention to participate in the January 23 action. The union documented that more than 20 members had been detained or deported by ICE without due process.
UNITE HERE Local 17, representing more than 6,000 hospitality workers, reported that approximately 16 members had been detained. ICE targeted the Minneapolis-Saint Paul International Airport where the union had significant membership in hotel and airport services.
The Minnesota AFL-CIO, the statewide federation representing over 300,000 workers across more than 1,000 unions, voted on January 20 to support the January 23 action, signaling unified labor support.
Union organizers employed strategies to get around rules in their union contracts prohibiting strikes. SEIU Local 26 encouraged members to use sick days and personal days, while some unions raised safety concerns to justify member absences. Minneapolis schools closed for weather, which gave legal cover for educator participation.
Religious Leaders Risk Arrest
The most dramatic act of civil disobedience occurred on January 23 at Minneapolis-Saint Paul International Airport, where approximately 99 to 100 religious leaders from multiple faith traditions gathered to protest ICE deportation flights. Kneeling on the roadway in the extreme cold, the clergy members conducted a prayer vigil for detained immigrants.
Among those arrested were Reverend Mariah Tollgaard of the United Methodist Church, Rabbi Emma Kippley-Ogman, and dozens of other clergy representing Lutheran, Catholic, Jewish, Episcopal, Muslim, and other faith communities. Police treated the arrested clergy differently compared to ICE interactions—local law enforcement transported the clergy on warm buses and treated them with courtesy and respect, a fact that religious leaders emphasized in contrasting it with ICE agents’ conduct.
ISAIAH Minnesota, an interfaith community organizing network, coordinated religious leader participation. The group included religious diversity reflecting Minnesota’s large Lutheran population and historical connection to the 1980s Sanctuary Movement with Central American refugees.
Immigrant Rights Infrastructure
CTUL (Centro de Trabajadores Unidos en la Lucha—Center for Workers United in the Struggle), a worker center founded on the principle of “workers organizing, educating and empowering each other to fight for a voice in their workplaces and communities,” mobilized immigrant workers as key participants and leaders.
Legal organizations including the ACLU of Minnesota, Immigrant Law Center of Minnesota, and Mid-Minnesota Legal Aid provided legal observers at enforcement sites and filed lawsuits documenting violations of rights. The ACLU’s amended complaint included over 80 declarations from Minnesotans describing ICE violence, intimidation, and constitutional violations, creating evidence that changed both the court cases and public narrative.
Students Spread the Model Nationally
Student movements provided ongoing organizing power through the University of Minnesota’s graduate and undergraduate organizations. The UMN Graduate Labor Union, the Black Student Union, AFSCME Local 3800, and the university’s Student Government coordinated the January 30 national day of action that extended the Minnesota model to all 50 states.
Student movements contributed youth energy and campus organizing networks while highlighting the operation’s impact on young people—schools had transitioned to remote learning due to ICE operations, and organizers documented psychological trauma in school-age children.
The Economic Pressure Campaign
Polling by Blue Rose Research found that approximately one in four Minnesota voters either participated in the January 23 actions or had a close family member who did, with 38 percent of participants reporting that they stayed off work that day.
Hennepin County Government’s assessment found that Operation Metro Surge cost the region $203.1 million in January alone: $47 million in lost wages for workers afraid to leave home, $81 million in lost revenue for restaurants and small businesses, $4.7 million in hotel cancellations extending through summer, $15.7 million in emergency rental assistance for 35,000 low-income households, and $2.4 million in weekly spending increases on food assistance.
The Federal Retreat
On February 12, 2026, Tom Homan announced that Operation Metro Surge would conclude, with a significant pullback of personnel beginning immediately. Homan described the decision as evidence of success, stating that the operation had achieved its objectives. He said better cooperation with state and local officials, combined with operational changes including giving body cameras to all DHS law enforcement, had changed the situation on the ground.
The announcement stated that approximately 700 of the 4,000 deployed agents would be withdrawn, leaving roughly 3,300 federal officers in Minnesota for an undefined transition period.
The movement’s response reflected skepticism. Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey questioned whether the chaos caused by the operation justified its continuation, asking: “Was it worth it?”
Minneapolis City Council Member Jason Chavez, a key voice in the resistance movement, issued a statement rejecting the idea that the federal government had achieved its objectives: “This isn’t because elected leaders gave in. This victory is yours,” he said, addressing the community resistance movement, but also warning: “I am still asking the community to remain cautious and vigilant until we can confirm what this means.”
What Made This Coalition Work
The resistance in Minnesota succeeded where many movements fail because it combined several things that rarely come together.
First, it had organizational power. Labor unions brought resources, communication networks, and the ability to mobilize tens of thousands of workers on short notice. Religious institutions provided moral authority and meeting spaces.
Second, it kept up the pressure. The coalition maintained daily direct action and observation for more than six weeks, making it continuously difficult for federal enforcement to operate.
Third, it documented everything. Legal organizations filed lawsuits with over 80 declarations documenting constitutional violations. Economic impact was quantified at $203 million. The deaths of Renée Good and Alex Pretti were investigated and ruled homicides.
Fourth, it combined multiple tactics. Mass marches, business closures, religious civil disobedience, legal challenges, and neighborhood observation networks all created different kinds of pressure at the same time. Federal officials couldn’t address one tactic without facing pressure from another direction.
Fifth, it had clear demands. Organizers demanded the end of Operation Metro Surge—a specific, achievable goal that could be measured. When Homan announced the pullback, the coalition could claim victory even while staying skeptical about implementation.
The Limitations and Unfinished Business
The campaign’s success came with significant limitations. The outcome—an announced reduction of federal enforcement personnel—didn’t change federal immigration policy or authority. The federal government retained the legal power to redeploy enforcement resources to Minnesota or other locations.
As of mid-February, no charges had been filed against ICE agent Jonathan Ross for the killing of Renée Good or the federal agent involved in Alex Pretti’s death. Antonio Romanucci, the attorney representing Renée Good’s family, stated that “the agents’ departure from Minnesota doesn’t change the need for accountability for their actions during Operation Metro Surge.”
The campaign’s most ambitious goal—fundamental transformation of ICE or movement toward its abolition—remained a demand rather than reality. Minnesota state officials couldn’t abolish a federal agency, and the Trump administration was determined to expand immigration enforcement rather than shrinking it.
The economic damage, while symbolically powerful, hurt immigrant business owners and workers disproportionately—the communities the campaign aimed to protect. Workers and businesses that participated in the January 23 closure lost a day’s revenue, and small business owners reported struggling to stay in business in the months following the operation.
Historical Echoes
This campaign followed a long history of American resistance to federal immigration enforcement. The 2006 immigrant rights mega-marches are the closest comparison. Beginning with protests against HR 4437 in March 2006, immigrant rights organizations coordinated national demonstrations that culminated in the May 1 “Day Without an Immigrant” general strike and economic boycott.
These demonstrations achieved scale, with the Los Angeles march alone drawing between 500,000 and 1.3 million participants. The 2006 movement employed economic pressure tactics through business closures and work stoppages, showing immigrants’ economic contributions while creating both political pressure and public backlash.
The difference: the 2006 movement emerged in response to a proposed law and stopped it from passing the harshest parts, but organizers couldn’t keep pushing toward permanent legalization or structural immigration reform. The movement peaked when Congress was voting and declined when the specific threat went away.
This campaign inherited both the tactics and strategic weaknesses of the 2006 movement. Like 2006, the 2026 campaign used economic disruption to demonstrate immigrants’ contributions. However, the 2026 campaign faced a different situation: rather than opposing a specific piece of legislation, the campaign opposed ongoing federal raids. This made it clearer when they’d won.
The religious sanctuary movement of the 1980s and 1990s provides another precedent. The Sanctuary Movement emerged in response to Central American civil conflicts and asylum-seekers, with over 500 congregations nationwide—including significant Minnesota participation from Lutheran and Catholic churches—declaring themselves sanctuaries and offering shelter, legal support, and material assistance to Central American refugees.
The movement combined public moral stands, institutional protection, and civil disobedience, with clergy prosecutions becoming chances to publicize the movement’s moral claims. Unlike political movements with defined legislative endpoints, the Sanctuary Movement created lasting networks—church networks that lasted for decades.
The 2026 campaign in Minnesota revived this sanctuary network and religious tradition. The arrests of over 100 religious leaders at MSP Airport copied civil rights-era tactics while reviving the Sanctuary Movement’s tactic of religious institutions claiming moral authority over federal law enforcement.
The Birmingham Campaign of 1963 offers useful comparisons. Like Minnesota, the Birmingham Campaign used a coordinated strategy combining boycotts that damaged downtown business economics, mass marches that made the city impossible to control, clergy leadership that provided moral authority, and civil disobedience that filled jails and turned court cases into organizing opportunities.
The Birmingham Campaign’s success in forcing city officials and businesses to agree to desegregation demands happened through the combination of economic damage (downtown business declined by as much as 40 percent during boycotts) and the federal government’s concern about national image and ungovernability. This campaign similarly generated economic damage and made federal enforcement so difficult that it required direct attention from the highest levels.
What Comes Next
The announced conclusion of Operation Metro Surge doesn’t represent the end of the resistance campaign or the underlying conflicts. Movement participants said they would keep up pressure until federal agents depart the state, and the campaign’s demands for criminal prosecution of officers responsible for deaths, ICE reform, and permanent limits on enforcement remain unachieved.
Organizers face the challenge of verifying what’s happening. Homan announced a “gradual” pullback extending through the week following February 12, leaving the specific timeline unclear. Community observers will likely maintain presence at known ICE facilities, transportation hubs, and neighborhoods previously targeted, documenting ongoing operations.
The campaign’s success in Minnesota creates pressure to copy this in other places. Federal officials indicated that Operation Metro Surge personnel would be redeployed to other states. The nationally coordinated movement actions following the January 23 strike—with demonstrations across all 50 states—suggest organizing networks are being built for national scale comparable to the 2006 immigrant rights movement.
The accountability demands for officers involved in fatal shootings are the campaign’s most uncertain long-term goal. Criminal prosecution of federal immigration agents requires either state action or federal Department of Justice action. The Trump administration demonstrated no willingness to prosecute ICE or Border Patrol agents, and federal law enforcement leadership defended the officers’ actions as appropriate.
Organizers face the challenge of keeping the movement going beyond the initial victory. Historical patterns from the 2006 immigrant rights movement suggest that coalitions can fall apart when the immediate threat goes away or the policy goals change. Maintaining the coalition between labor, faith, and community organizations requires either continued outside pressure or internal commitment to longer-term goals beyond Minnesota.
The campaign’s impact on immigrant communities’ ability to move safely through daily life remains disputed. While the operation’s conclusion means less federal enforcement, the documented deaths of two citizens, the injury of a third, and the trauma from months of widespread enforcement operations can’t be undone by reducing the number of agents. Community organizers documented that many immigrants continued to avoid leaving homes, even after the operation conclusion announcement, showing that people need proof before trusting government claims by seeing no enforcement for a sustained period.
The campaign’s success will be measured not by the February announcement alone, but by whether the community’s demands for accountability, systematic changes to policy, and protection of immigrant safety are achieved through continued organizing and pressure over the coming months and years.
The coalition that mobilized in Minnesota has demonstrated that sustained, multi-institutional organizing can force federal authorities to respond, even in political situations where the government is hostile to protecting immigrants. Whether that power can be turned into lasting change remains the question the movement faces as it moves beyond the initial emergency response.
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