Minneapolis Rises Up After ICE Shooting, Demanding Accountability and Federal Withdrawal
Minneapolis is once again at the epicenter of a national debate on policing and immigration enforcement following the fatal shooting of Renée Nicole Good, a 37-year-old mother and poet, by a federal agent on January 7, 2026. The incident has ignited widespread protests and renewed calls for the complete removal of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) from the city, echoing the unrest that followed the murder of George Floyd in 2020.
A vigil held at the base of a barren tree in south Minneapolis drew thousands, with attendees holding flowers, warming themselves by makeshift fire pits, and mourning the loss of Good. Scrawled in red in the nearby snow were the stark words: “ICE KILLS.” “We haven’t seen a gathering this large in our city since the murder of George Floyd,” said Suleiman Adan, the deputy executive director of CAIR Minnesota, underscoring the depth of community outrage.
The circumstances of Good’s death are fueling a familiar cycle of events: allegations of excessive force, the circulation of video evidence, claims of self-defense, and escalating protests demanding justice. Minneapolis City Council member Robin Wonsley articulated the core demands: “ICE out of Minneapolis, justice for Renee.” Wonsley emphasized the need for accountability, stating, “Her murder should not be allowed to happen without any repercussions. That should not be a national standard.” She called for the immediate arrest of the agent involved and local control of the investigation, a demand complicated by the fact that state investigators have already been removed from the case, with the FBI now leading the inquiry.
Experts warn that a federal investigation is unlikely to yield impartial results. “Any investigation undertaken by the federal government will likely be a sham,” asserted Alex Vitale, author of The End of Policing. He urged residents to “produce their own sense of justice,” referencing the 1950s “We Charge Genocide” petition as a historical precedent for community-led accountability.
Adding fuel to the fire, Kristi Noem, secretary of the Department of Homeland Security (DHS), labeled Good a “domestic terrorist” during a press conference – a designation critics say is increasingly used to silence dissent. This prompted further protests outside the Bishop Henry Whipple Building, which houses DHS, mirroring demonstrations held during Noem’s visit in late October. ICE agents arrested 150 people in Minneapolis on Monday alone, escalating tensions further.
The situation presents a critical test for Minnesota officials. “The real and consequential question is how far Minnesota officials are willing to go to challenge out-of-control federal law enforcement,” stated Stuart Schrader, author of Badges Without Borders. Schrader advocated for a grand jury indictment of the shooter and the mobilization of state and local law enforcement, or even the National Guard, to halt ICE operations, suggesting Governor Walz “cross the Rubicon.”
Even symbolic gestures of resistance are being voiced. Coleen Fitzgerald, a protester dressed as a clown, wryly remarked, “I suppose burning at the stake isn’t an option,” highlighting the desperation and frustration felt by many. While Governor Walz has placed the National Guard on standby, it remains unclear whether their role will be to suppress protests or to actively resist federal overreach.
The atmosphere at this morning’s protest was volatile. Masked ICE agents reportedly pushed back community members and deployed smoke bombs, prompting shouts of “Nazis!” and “ICE out now!” The incident underscores the deep-seated animosity towards the agency and the potential for further escalation.
Wonsley emphasized the resilience of the Minneapolis community. “Minneapolis residents have time and time again showed that we care deeply for one another,” she said. “When we see a grave injustice happen, we will organize to make sure that justice or accountability is rendered.” The fear gripping residents is palpable, with some parents reportedly sewing their children’s passports into their jackets, and even naturalized citizens carrying their documentation at all times.
Community leaders see a spiritual dimension to the current struggle. “As people of faith, we believe that God chose the people of Minneapolis to continue the work that we started in 2020,” Adan stated. “The work was not done then, and it’s not done now.”
Criminologist Charis Kubrin argues that the current crackdown is not based on evidence or logic, but rather on “emotion, stereotype, and moral panic,” particularly targeting communities based on race and immigration status. Vitale echoed this sentiment, asserting that immigrants are being scapegoated for problems rooted in corporate greed. He described the situation as a “theater of the strongman” designed to distract from systemic issues and appeal to a sense of “emasculation” felt by some segments of the population.
While protests are vital, Vitale stressed the need for sustained organizing. “There were 10 years between the Montgomery bus boycott and the passage of real civil rights legislation. We need to think in longer time horizons,” he said, adding that the core arguments against excessive policing and the need for systemic reform have gained significant traction.
Even Mayor Jacob Frey, who faced criticism in 2020 for his stance on defunding the police, has now publicly demanded that ICE “get the fuck out” of Minneapolis.
In the immediate aftermath of Good’s death, the scene was cordoned off with yellow crime tape and metal barricades. Protesters confronted local police, questioning their perceived protection of ICE. One protester shouted at an officer in riot gear, “What the fuck are you smiling about? Someone was murdered.” Another yelled at an FBI agent, “It was a white lady who was killed! It could have been you!” A poignant sentiment was expressed by someone who simply wished there was “a poem about this.”
As of this morning, the street remains barricaded, with fires burning at both ends. A crowd gathered around a memorial, while a woman distributed samosas. Outside Henry Whipple, a man fell to his knees after being hit with a smoke bomb, crying out, “I can’t breathe!” – a scene eerily reminiscent of 2020. As Adan succinctly put it: “The world is watching.”
