By Darius Spearman (africanelements)

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The year 2026 has opened with a fierce struggle over the soul of American communities. From the snowy streets of Minneapolis to the quiet neighborhoods of Springfield, Ohio, a massive federal immigration surge has met an equally powerful wall of local resistance. Federal judges are now threatening top officials with jail time. Local churches are reviving ancient traditions of sanctuary. These events are not happening in a vacuum. They are the result of decades of policy shifts that have brought the power of the border into the heart of the American interior.

At the center of this storm is U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement, known as ICE. In early 2026, the agency finds itself locked in a battle with the judicial branch. This conflict reached a boiling point when a federal judge in Minnesota took the rare step of demanding that the acting chief of ICE show up in person to explain his agency’s behavior. This moment marks a significant fracture in the way federal and state powers interact. Understanding how the nation reached this point requires a look at the history and the recent legislation that fueled this fire.

The current friction between federal agents and local towns began with a fundamental shift in U.S. policy over twenty years ago. In 2003, the government created ICE as part of the Homeland Security Act. This was the largest reorganization of the government since the Department of Defense was formed. The new agency merged immigration control with national security. It changed the mission of immigration agents from looking outward at the borders to looking inward at the people living within the country (motherjones.com).

Historically, immigration enforcement was an "outward-looking" power. After the attacks on September 11, 2001, the focus shifted. ICE received unique authorities to police immigrant populations deep within the United States. This change led to what many call the "securitization" of daily life. For many in the African Diaspora, this shift felt familiar. The increased surveillance and policing of neighborhoods mirrored historical patterns of federalism and Black politics where national power often clashes with local community safety.

40,000 (Early 2025)

73,000 (Jan 2026)

Data reflects the 75% increase in individuals held in ICE detention facilities (americanimmigrationcouncil.org).

In January 2026, Chief Judge Patrick J. Schiltz of Minnesota issued a stern warning. He ordered Todd Lyons, the acting chief of ICE, to appear in court under the threat of contempt. The judge was frustrated by "dozens" of instances where ICE failed to follow court orders. Specifically, the agency refused to provide bond hearings for detainees. This judicial anger follows a massive federal deployment known as "Operation Metro Surge." This operation sent 3,000 federal agents into the Twin Cities, turning the area into a legal battleground (theguardian.com).

Judge Schiltz pointed out a major problem in the federal strategy. The administration sent thousands of agents to arrest residents but provided no resources to handle the legal challenges that followed. This lack of planning created a backlog that denied people their basic right to a hearing. The judge’s order signals a "constitutional crisis" where executive agencies believe they can ignore the oversight of the courts. This standoff has encouraged state leaders like Attorney General Keith Ellison to seek ways to end the federal operation entirely (northstarpolicy.org).

The situation in Minneapolis turned tragic in early 2026. Two U.S. citizens were killed during interactions with federal agents. Renee Good, a mother of three, was shot and killed by an ICE agent on January 7 while she was in her car. Later that month, Alex Pretti, an ICU nurse at the VA hospital, was killed by Border Patrol agents. Pretti was filming the agents and trying to help a woman who had been shoved to the ground. These deaths shifted the conversation from immigration policy to general public safety (cbc.ca).

The deaths of these two citizens sparked an outcry from people who had previously stayed silent. Corporate leaders from companies like 3M and Target joined protesters in demanding a change. By late January 2026, city officials signaled a pullback. Reports indicated that federal commanders and some agents began withdrawing from the city. This tactical shift shows that even the most aggressive federal surges can be stopped when local communities and businesses unite against state-sponsored violence (northstarpolicy.org).

While Minnesota fought in the courts, Springfield, Ohio, became a different kind of flashpoint. The town is home to a large Haitian community of about 15,000 to 20,000 people. Many of these residents are protected by Temporary Protected Status, or TPS. However, this status is set to expire on February 3, 2026. The looming deadline has created a state of terror for families who have lived and worked in Ohio for years. These residents often look to the history of the Haitian Revolution as a source of strength during times of oppression (channelnewsasia.com).

The Haitian community has also been the target of cruel disinformation. In 2024, rumors spread that immigrants were stealing and eating pets. Despite local police and city officials debunking these claims, the stories were used to frame legal residents as a threat. This narrative provided a justification for aggressive enforcement actions. In response, local churches have revived the "Sanctuary Movement" from the 1980s. They are training volunteers to stall ICE agents and provide legal aid to their neighbors. These faith leaders believe in the survival and resilience of the family unit against policies that seek to tear them apart (issuu.com).

32 Deaths (2004)

32 Deaths (2025)

2025 matched the highest death toll in ICE history (americanimmigrationcouncil.org).

The fuel for this massive enforcement surge comes from a piece of legislation called the "One Big Beautiful Bill Act," or OBBBA. Signed into law in July 2025, this act provided $45 billion for ICE detention through 2029. This funding allowed the agency to triple its size and expand its capacity to 116,000 beds. It also created a "no release" system that makes it almost impossible for detainees to get out on bond or parole. This law has turned immigration enforcement into a massive, well-funded machine (americanimmigrationcouncil.org).

The OBBBA also includes a 3.5 percent tax on international remittances. This tax directly hits Black Diaspora communities that send money home to countries like Nigeria, Kenya, and Ethiopia. For many families, this money is a lifeline. By taxing these transfers, the government is putting an extra financial burden on immigrants who are already struggling with increased fees for legal status. For example, the cost to apply for TPS rose from $50 to $500, with no option for a fee waiver. These policies create a "pay-to-play" system that punishes low-income immigrants (livemint.com).

One of the most alarming trends in 2026 is the rise of "at-large" arrests. These are raids that happen in public spaces like parks, workplaces, and private homes. In the past, most immigration arrests happened when someone was transferred from a local jail. Now, at-large arrests have increased by 600 percent. This change has led to a 2,450 percent increase in the detention of people who have no criminal record at all. These raids often use military-style tactics and warrantless entries into homes (americanimmigrationcouncil.org).

In places like Minneapolis, these operations have been tied to racial profiling. Agents have been reported stopping people in "multicultural corridors" just to check their citizenship status based on how they look. This creates an atmosphere of fear where people are afraid to go to work or the grocery store. The OBBBA provided $170 billion for enforcement infrastructure, which includes high-tech surveillance. This technology allows agents to track people in immigrant-dense neighborhoods, further securitizing the daily lives of Black and Brown residents (americanimmigrationcouncil.org).

The national divide over immigration enforcement is clearly visible in state governments. In early 2026, the Arizona House of Representatives became a site of intense political theater. Democratic lawmakers used floor speeches to condemn the "state violence" they saw from ICE agents. They argued that the federal surge was harming Arizona families and destroying community trust. These speeches were met with a dramatic response from the opposition (theguardian.com).

Many Republican lawmakers chose to walk out of the room during these speeches. This move mirrored a similar walkout in the U.S. Senate by members who claimed the "radical left" was trying to stop necessary enforcement. This political polarization makes it difficult to find a middle ground. While one side sees a necessary push for national security, the other sees an unconstitutional overreach that endangers everyone. The walkouts in Arizona show that the debate over immigration is no longer about policy details but about fundamental values (motherjones.com).

At-large arrests in neighborhoods and workplaces have surged by 600% compared to previous years (americanimmigrationcouncil.org).

The resistance in Springfield and Minneapolis is part of a larger movement. This movement uses tactics that were developed decades ago. The original Sanctuary Movement began at Southside Presbyterian Church in Tucson, Arizona. In the 1980s, faith leaders there provided safe havens for refugees from Central America. Today, that model is being used to protect established residents, including those with legal status like TPS holders. These modern sanctuary efforts are a localized survival strategy for people who feel targeted by shifting federal priorities (motherjones.com).

In 2026, sanctuary is not just about physical space. It is also about legal defense and community alerts. Churches in Ohio are training people to use their phones to document ICE activity and to provide immediate support to families during a raid. This community resilience is a direct response to the massive funding and power given to federal agents. When the legal system feels like it is failing, these local networks step in to provide the protection that the state does not (investing.com).

The events of early 2026 suggest that there are limits to how much federal power can be used in local communities. The intervention of Chief Judge Schiltz shows that the judicial branch can still act as a check on executive overreach. The pullback in Minneapolis proves that public pressure and economic concerns can force a change in federal tactics. Even with $45 billion in funding, ICE cannot simply ignore the laws and the people it is supposed to serve (theguardian.com, northstarpolicy.org).

For the African Diaspora, these headlines are a reminder of the long struggle for justice and safety. Whether it is a Haitian family in Ohio or a Somali business owner in Minnesota, the fight remains the same. It is a fight for the right to live without the constant threat of state-sponsored violence. As the February 3 deadline for Haitian TPS approaches, the eyes of the nation remain on these communities. The history behind these headlines shows that while the government may have the money, the people have the power to resist (channelnewsasia.com).

Darius Spearman is a professor of Black Studies at San Diego City College, where he has been teaching for over 20 years. He is the founder of African Elements, a media platform dedicated to providing educational resources on the history and culture of the African diaspora. Through his work, Spearman aims to empower and educate by bringing historical context to contemporary issues affecting the Black community.