A Minnesota-based organization linked to a fallen Minneapolis protester has stirred controversy by distributing a manual that instructs activists on how to physically interfere with police arrests.
MN ICE Watch, associated with the late Renee Good, reposted a “de-arrest primer” on Instagram in June, following its initial publication in the spring of 2024. The guide details methods to obstruct law enforcement, including breaking officers’ holds, pulling suspects away, opening police vehicle doors, and surrounding officers to demand releases. The group, described as part of a network training members to disrupt authorities like ICE agents, has drawn attention for its tactics, with neighbors noting Good’s deep involvement and extensive preparation with the local chapter.
The manual’s provocative language and methods have ignited discussion about the balance between protest rights and public safety. Critics question whether such actions cross legal and ethical lines.
According to the New York Post, the guide shared by MN ICE Watch doesn’t shy away from bold instructions, outlining four specific ways to meddle with arrests. It suggests everything from yanking suspects free to blocking officers with crowds chanting demands for release.
One tactic urges activists to apply “explosive power” with a low stance while pushing against officers. This kind of advice raises eyebrows—teaching physical confrontation seems a risky path when tensions with law enforcement are already high.
Another gem from the manual admits that opening police vehicle doors to free suspects “could be considered a crime.” That’s an understatement; it’s hard to see how this wouldn’t land someone in serious legal trouble, no matter the cause.
The manual’s rhetoric is as striking as its tactics, framing each interference as a “micro-intifada,” a term tied to historical violence. According to the Anti-Defamation League, “Intifada typically refers to two distinct historical periods in which terrorists committed acts of violence against Israeli civilians.” Such language risks inflaming divisions, casting a shadow over the group’s stated goal of protecting vulnerable communities.
The ADL further notes that phrases like “Globalize the intifada” are often seen as calls for widespread violence against Israel and Jewish communities globally. Linking protest actions to such charged terminology feels like a deliberate provocation, not a unifying cry for justice.
While the manual claims arrests can devastate marginalized groups, justifying interference as “well worth the risks involved,” one must ask if escalating confrontations truly serve those it aims to protect. The potential for harm—both to activists and officers—looms large.
MN ICE Watch positions itself as a defender of targeted populations, but its methods could deepen community rifts. Encouraging direct physical resistance against law enforcement isn’t just a legal gamble; it’s a recipe for chaos on the streets.
Neighbors have reported that Renee Good was heavily involved, receiving “thorough training” from the group. This suggests a structured effort to spread these risky tactics, which could embolden others to act without fully grasping the consequences.
The manual’s origin, tied to campus protests for Palestine solidarity, adds another layer of complexity. While activism has a storied place in American history, importing such volatile language and methods into local policing disputes feels like a dangerous overreach.
Advocates might argue that MN ICE Watch is merely empowering the powerless against systemic overreach. But when does empowerment become endangerment? Pushing for “de-arrests” in the heat of a confrontation risks turning a protest into a brawl. The Post has sought comment from MN ICE Watch, but the silence so far speaks volumes. If the goal is to protect communities, a dialogue about safer, lawful ways to challenge authority seems overdue.
Ultimately, while the frustration behind these actions is understandable, the path chosen by MN ICE Watch treads too close to vigilantism for comfort. Free speech and assembly are sacred, but so is the rule of law—finding the balance shouldn’t mean throwing punches or prying open squad car doors.