‘We don’t want to be like Minneapolis’: Feelings on ICE surge reveal deep divide across state

ST. CLOUD – As Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents descended on the Twin Cities in recent weeks — sparking protests, prompting neighbors to follow federal agents with whistles, and culminating in the death of Renee Good — Scott Brodeen has had one pressing thought: “We don’t want to be like Minneapolis.”

The St. Cloud City Council member said this week he thinks residents interfering with Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) operations, along with Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey’s fiery comments telling federal agents to stay out of his city, is just setting up the Twin Cities for more chaos and possible violence.

“I don’t want bad stuff to happen here in St. Cloud that could be avoided,” he said. ”Just let [ICE] do their jobs and we’ll remain safe as a community.”

Similar sentiments can be heard in small-town bars, cafes and other gathering spots across the state, where the discussion is often different than the metro. What’s playing out could exacerbate an already wide political divide between the metro area and the rest of Minnesota heading into the pivotal 2026 midterm elections.

Responding to the growing ICE presence and Good’s death is proving to be a tightrope walk between acknowledging the increasing tensions without finding themselves in the limelight, wary of angering their next door neighbors or constituents. While some talk openly about supporting ICE and law enforcement, others see ICE actions as unconstitutional or worse.

“It’s a helpless feeling as a local official,” St. Cloud Mayor Jake Anderson said. “Some of this is trying to figure out how much of it is theatrics — political theater — and how much of it is trying to draw local officials to react."

At Parker’s Sand Bar in Sturgeon Lake, about 140 miles north of where Good was fatally shot by ICE agent Jonathan Ross, its owner made an exception to his personal rule of not talking politics at the bar.

Now back in Minnesota, he called the protesters “agitators” that are interfering with legitimate policing.

In Cold Spring, home to the Pilgrim’s Pride poultry processing plant, rumors about raids at the facility often buzz through the community. But no detentions have been confirmed, according to Cold Spring Mayor Dave Heinen.

Heinen said he’d welcome ICE arrests if the targets were people who have committed violent crimes, regardless of whether they are undocumented immigrants or citizens.

“In my opinion, if they are arresting violent criminals out of Pilgrim’s, I’m happy to see that,” he said, “because I’ve got relatives and friends that work there and I don’t think they should be in an environment that has people like that.”

Leaders and residents from southwest Minnesota up to the Iron Range have shared similar thoughts about letting ICE complete its job.

He’s noticed, he said, that how people react to and interact with law enforcement on the Range seems different from in the Twin Cities.

“In my community, we ... comply with law enforcement when they give us a direct order, and we trust the system,” Nelson said. “I get the sense that in other communities, that’s not how it’s working right now and that’s disturbing.”

Even in more diverse regional centers in greater Minnesota, people — even Democrats — often have an us vs. them attitude when it comes to the Twin Cities area, experts say.

In greater Minnesota, there’s “still sort of a broad, sweeping generalization that there’s a lot of problems in the Twin Cities and they’re getting what they deserve,” said Tim Lindberg, associate professor of political science at the University of Minnesota, Morris.

Some of it has to do with physical distance from the metro. Some of it has to do with the fact that there’s just statistically more conservatives than liberals in rural areas. And in these hyper-partisan times, the divide seems to only grow deeper.

“Generally speaking, I don’t think these are tactics that any American in a vacuum would be OK with,” he said of how federal agents have detained people and targeted protesters. “But because its one party’s viewpoint on this versus the other party, we see a lot more people willing to go, ‘OK, maybe they [went] a little too far a couple times but in general, this is OK.’”

People choosing to consume media and use social media platforms that align with their political viewpoints — and often don’t tell the complete story — just deepens that chasm for both sides, said Kristin Lunz Trujillo, assistant professor of political science at Boston College.

“A lot of it is this informational echo chamber,” she said. “Where we’re getting information very much colors how we’re interpreting things.”

That political divide, and the growing clash between locals and the federal government, has led some people to believe the state is careening toward a disastrous confrontation.

“We are the sort of the dead center of what could be the next civil war in the United States,” said Dean Moosavi, treasurer of the Blue Earth County GOP. “The only way we avoid it is if the public that is protesting backs off.”

But he also said he wasn’t sure there is a need for the 3,000 or so ICE agents reported to be in the state.

“If they are, as they say they are, [only] getting rid of murderers, rapists, child molesters and terrorists — if it’s limited to that, if that’s the goal, I support that," he said. “But I don’t think it should take that many ICE agents to accomplish [that]. It bothers me if they’re going beyond that violent category of criminals.”

In many parts of the state, folks are showing support for immigrant neighbors.

Duluth Mayor Roger Reinert said that in two decades of public service, he’s never seen the level of anxiety and fear he’s seeing in the city now.

“All are welcome in Duluth,” he said. “We are a community that thrives on diversity.”

“This is a very, very conservative area,” Guck said. “It’s scary up here, because it’s hard to stick your head out.”

But people are banding together to speak up more, she said, noting nearly 100 people from the area showed up at the protest.

Some residents of all corners of the state are saying they’ve become increasingly fearful of ICE’s tactics.

Cesi Giron, a high school senior in Duluth, led a walkout at her school to protest ICE. She was born in Duluth but her family came to the country to escape the civil war in El Salvador in the 1980s. She now carries her birth certificate, state ID and student ID at all times.

“Multiple forms of identification, just in case,” Giron said. “There are a lot of people saying ‘That’s so dramatic, nothing’s going to happen to you.’ But I can 100 percent guarantee that Renee Nicole Good wasn’t expecting that to happen.”

In Moose Lake, Alan Roatch sat at the bar inside Route 61 Lounge and Bowling, surrounded by the north woods. He bemoaned the far right and far left dominating the political landscape.

Both, he said, “irritate the hell out of me.”

From what he’s seen on screens, far from the honks and whistles of protests in the Twin Cities, Roatch called the events leading to Good’s death a sequence of bad decisions by all involved. He noted that ICE agents are being more aggressive now, but said protesters are bringing that on with name-calling, whistle-blowing and car honking.

“The agitators are getting in the way of people doing their jobs, politicians are encouraging it and ICE is being overly aggressive,” he said.

He lamented an era when people could agree to disagree, then compromise.