The Conversation
February 22, 2026

Federal agents stand amid teargas in Minneapolis, Minnesota. REUTERS/Tim Evans
By Gregory P. Magarian, Thomas and Karole Green
The president announces an aggressive, controversial policy. Large groups of protesters take to the streets. Government agents open fire and kill protesters.
All of these events, familiar from Minneapolis in 2026, also played out at Ohio’s Kent State University in 1970. In my academic writing about the First Amendment, I have described Kent State as a key moment when the government silenced free speech.
In Minneapolis, free speech has weathered the crisis better, as seen in the protests themselves, the public’s responses — and even the protest songs the two events inspired.
Protests and shootings, then and now
In 1970, President Richard Nixon announced he had expanded the Vietnam War by bombing Cambodia. Student anti-war protests, already fervent, intensified.
In Ohio, Gov. James Rhodes deployed the National Guard to quell protests at Kent State University. Monday, May 4, saw a large midday protest on the main campus commons. Students exercised their First Amendment rights by chanting and shouting at the Guard troops, who dispersed protesters with tear gas before regrouping on a nearby hill.
With the nearest remaining protesters 20 yards from the Guard troops and most more than 60 yards away, 28 guardsmen inexplicably fired on students, killing four and wounding nine others.
After the killings, the government sought to shift blame to the slain students.
Nixon stated: “When dissent turns to violence, it invites tragedy.”
Minneapolis in 2026 presents vivid parallels.
As part of a sweeping campaign to deport undocumented immigrants, President Donald Trump in early January 2026 deployed armed U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement and Customs and Border Protection agents to Minneapolis.
Many residents protested, exercising their First Amendment rights by using smartphones and whistles to record and call out what they saw as ICE and CBP abuses. On Jan. 7, 2026, an ICE agent shot and killed activist Renee Good in her car. On Jan. 24, two CBP agents shot and killed protester Alex Pretti on the street.
The government sought to blame Good and Pretti for their own killings.
Different public reactions
After Kent State, amid bitter conservative opposition to student protesters, most Americans blamed the fallen students for their deaths. When students in New York City protested the Kent State shootings, construction workers attacked and beat them in what became known as the “Hard Hat Riot.” Afterward, Nixon hosted construction union leaders at the White House, where they gave him an honorary hard hat.
In contrast, most Americans believe the Trump administration has used excessive force in Minneapolis. Majorities both oppose the federal agents’ actions against protesters and approve of protesting and recording the agents.
The public response to Minneapolis has made a difference. The Trump administration has announced an end to its immigration crackdown in the Twin Cities. Trump has backed off attacks on Good and Pretti. Congressional opposition to ICE funding has grown. Overall public support for Trump and his policies has fallen.
What has caused people to view the killings in Minneapolis so differently from Kent State? One big factor, I believe, is how free speech has shaped the public response.
The Minneapolis protests themselves have sent the public a more focused message than what emerged from the student protests against the Vietnam War.
Anti-war protests in 1970 targeted military action on the other side of the world. Organizers had to plan and coordinate through in-person meetings and word of mouth. Student protesters needed the institutional news media to convey their views to the public.
In contrast, the anti-ICE protests in Minneapolis target government action at the protesters’ doorsteps. Organizers can use local networks and social media to plan, coordinate and communicate directly with the public. The protests have succeeded in deepening public opposition to ICE.
In addition, the American people have witnessed the Minneapolis shootings.
Kent State produced a famous photograph of a surviving student’s anguish but only hazy, chaotic video of the shootings.
In contrast, widely circulated video evidence showed the Minneapolis killings in horrifying detail. Within days of each shooting, news organizations had compiled detailed visual timelines, often based on recordings by protesters and observers, that sharply contradicted government accounts of what happened to Good and Pretti.
Finally, consider two popular protest songs that emerged from Kent State and Minneapolis: Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young’s “Ohio” and Bruce Springsteen’s “Streets of Minneapolis.”
Neil Young’s lyrics described the Kent State events in mythic terms, warning of “tin soldiers” and telling young Americans: “We’re finally on our own.” Young did not describe the shootings in detail. The song does not name Kent State, the National Guard or the fallen students. Instead, it presents the events as symbolic of a broader generational conflict over the Vietnam War.
Springsteen released “Streets of Minneapolis” on Jan. 28, 2026 — just four days after CBP agents killed Pretti. Two days later, the song topped streaming charts worldwide.
The internet and social media let Springsteen document Minneapolis, almost in real time, for a mass audience. Springsteen’s lyrics balance symbolism with specificity, naming not just “King Trump” but also victims Pretti and Good, key Trump officials Stephen Miller and Kristi Noem, main Minneapolis artery Nicollet Avenue, and the protesters’ “whistles and phones,” before fading on a chant of “ICE out!”
Critics offer compelling arguments that 21st-century mass communication degrades social relationships, elections and culture. In Minneapolis, disinformation has muddied crucial facts about the protests and killings.
At the same time, Minneapolis has shown how networked communication can promote free speech. Through focused protests, recordings of government action, and viral popular culture, today’s public can get fuller, clearer information to help critically assess government actions.
JOHN FILO. Kent State, 1970
On May 4, 1970, fourteen-year-old Mary Ann Vecchio screamed over the body of twenty-year-old Kent State student Jeffrey Miller who was fatally shot by the Ohio National Guard during a protest against the U.S. invasion of Cambodia during the Vietnam War. Members of the Guard fired into a crowd of Kent State University demonstrators, killing four and wounding nine. The impact of the shootings was widely publicized and triggered a nationwide student strike that forced hundreds of colleges and universities to close.

Singer/Songwriter Bruce Springsteen (Shutterstock)
The presence of Department of Homeland Security agents in Minnesota compelled many people there to use songs as a means of protest. Those songs were from secular as well as religious traditions.
On Jan. 8, 2026, the day after Immigration and Customs Enforcement agent Jonathan Ross killed Minneapolis resident Renée Good on Portland Avenue, an anonymous post appeared on Reddit that featured an uncredited text clearly adapted from the lyrics of a Depression-era protest song from Appalachia, “Which Side Are You On?” The Reddit text criticized the recent federal presence in Minnesota and implored Minnesotans to take a stand.
In our town of Minneapolis,
There’s no neutrals here at home.
You’re either marching in the streets
or you kill for Kristi Noem
Which side are you on,
Oh which side are you on?
Which side are you on,
Oh which side are you on?
ICE is a bunch of killers
who hide behind a mask.
How do they get away with this?
That’s what you have to ask.
Which side are you on …
For centuries, songs have served as vehicles for expressing community responses to sociopolitical crises, whether government repression or corporate exploitation. “Which Side Are You On?” resonated with Minnesotans, in part because it has been recorded by numerous artists over the decades.
The song dates back to another societal struggle that occurred in another part of the United States during another crisis moment in American history. “Which Side Are You On?” has consoled and empowered countless people for generations during struggles in red as well as blue states. It has also inspired people to write new protest songs in the face of new crises.
Birth of a protest anthem
“Which Side Are You On?” was composed in 1931, a woman’s spontaneous response to a coal company’s effort to prevent miners in Harlan County, Kentucky, from joining the United Mine Workers of America. Those miners hoped the labor union would improve their working conditions and overturn imposed reductions to their wages.
In support of the coal company, sheriff J. H. Blair and armed deputies broke into the house of union organizer Sam Reece to apprehend him and locate evidence of union activity. Reece was in hiding elsewhere, but his wife, Florence, and their children were present. After ransacking the house, the sheriff and deputies left.
Florence tore a page out of a calendar and jotted down lyrics for an impromptu song, which she recalled setting to the melody of a Baptist hymn “I’m gonna land on the shore.” Others have observed that the melody in Florence’s song was similar to that of the traditional British ballad “Jack Monroe,” which features the haunting refrain “Lay the Lily Low.”

Woody Guthrie, one of America’s most celebrated folk singers of the 20th century, sang many protest songs. Al Aumuller, via the Library of Congress
“Which Side Are You On?” channeled Florence’s reaction to that traumatic experience. Throughout the 1930s, she and others sang the song during labor strikes in the Appalachian coalfields, and the lyrics were included in union songbooks. Then, in 1941, the Almanac Singers, a folk supergroup featuring Woody Guthrie and Pete Seeger, recorded the song, and it reached many people beyond Appalachia.
Since then, a range of musicians – including Charlie Byrd; Peter, Paul and Mary; the Dropkick Murphys; Natalie Merchant; Ani DiFranco; and the Kronos Quartet – performed “Which Side Are You On?” in concert settings and for recordings. A solo live performance with a concert audience joining the chorus was a focal point of Seeger’s “Greatest Hits” album in 1967.
The Academy Award-winning documentary film “Harlan County U.S.A.” (1976) included a clip of Florence Reece singing her song during a 1973 strike. “Which Side Are You On?” was translated into other languages – a testament to its universal theme of encouraging solidarity to people confronting authoritarian power. Florence Reece sings ‘Which side are you on?’ four decades after she wrote the song.
Protest songs of the modern era
While the American protest song tradition can be traced back to the origins of the nation, “Which Side Are You On?” served as a prototype for the modern-era protest song because of its lyrical directness. Many memorable, risk-taking protest songs were composed in the wake of, and in the spirit of, “Which Side Are You On?”
Noteworthy are numerous protest classics in the folk vein, epitomized by a sizable part of Guthrie’s repertoire, by early Bob Dylan songs like “Masters of War” (1963), “The Times They Are a-Changin’” (1964) and “Only A Pawn in Their Game” (1964), and by Phil Ochs’ mid-1960s songs of political critique, such as “Here’s to the State of Mississippi” (1965).
But protest songs have hailed from all music genres. Rock and rhythm and blues, for instance, have spawned many iconic recordings of protest music: Sam Cooke’s “A Change Is Gonna Come” (1964), Buffalo Springfield’s “For What It’s Worth” (1966), Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Fortunate Son” (1969), Edwin Starr’s “War” (1970) and Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young’s “Ohio” (1970) among many others.
Blues, country, reggae and hip-hop have spawned broadly inspirational protest songs, and jazz too has yielded classic protest recordings, such as Abel Meeropol’s “Strange Fruit” (1939), popularized by Billie Holiday, and Gil Scott-Heron’s 1971 recording of the jazz-poem “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised.”
Indeed, there are so many enduring contributions to the American protest song canon that a list like Rolling Stone’s recent “100 Best Protest Songs of All Time” is only the tip of the iceberg. Regardless of the genre, effective protest songs retain their power to move and motivate people today despite having been composed in response to past situations or circumstances. And protest songs from the past are often adapted to help people more effectively respond to the crisis of the moment.
Songs for this moment
“Which Side Are You On?” was sung – and its theme invoked – in Minnesota throughout January 2026. On Jan. 24, shortly after Border Patrol agents killed Alex Pretti on Nicollet Avenue, Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey referred to the song’s title during a public address to his constituents: “Stand up for America. Recognize that your children will ask you what side you were on.” That same day, the grassroots organization 50501: Minnesota posted online an appeal to those in power: “[E]very politician and person in uniform must ask themselves one question – which side are you on?”
The next day, Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz acknowledged divisions in the U.S. during a televised briefing, urging citizens in his state and across the nation to consider the choice before them: “I’ve got a question for all of you. What side do you want to be on?”
People protesting ICE and Customs and Border Protection actions in Minnesota and elsewhere have been singing “Which Side Are You On?” and other well-known protest songs, but musicians have also been writing new protest songs about the crisis. On Jan. 8, the Dropkick Murphys posted on social media a clip of “Citizen I.C.E.,” a revamped version of the group’s 2005 song “Citizen C.I.A.,” augmented by video of the Jan. 7 fatal shooting of Renée Good. On Jan. 27, British musician Billy Bragg released “City of Heroes,” which he composed in tribute to the Minneapolis protesters.
Following suit was Bruce Springsteen, a longtime champion of the protest song legacy. On Jan. 28, Springsteen released online his newly composed and recorded “Streets of Minneapolis.” Millions of people around the world heard the song and saw its accompanying video.
On Jan. 30, Springsteen made a surprise appearance at the Minneapolis club First Avenue, performing his new song at the “Defend Minnesota” benefit concert, organized by musician Tom Morello to raise funds for the families of Good and Pretti. Bruce Springsteen’s ‘Streets of Minneapolis’ rages against the killings of Renée Good and Alex Pretti.
Making a difference
On the day Pretti was shot dead, hundreds of Minneapolis protesters attended a special service at Minneapolis’ Hennepin Avenue United Methodist Church. Pastor Elizabeth MacAuley, in a televised interview with CNN’s Anderson Cooper, reflected on the role of song in helping people cope: “It’s been a time when it is pretty tempting to feel so disempowered. … [T]he singing resistance movement … brought out the hope and the grief and the rage and the beauty.”
Cooper asked: “Do you think song makes a difference?” MacAuley replied: “I know song makes a difference.”

Ted Olson, Professor of Appalachian Studies and Bluegrass, Old-Time and Roots Music Studies, East Tennessee State University
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
By AFP
February 20, 2026

Copyright AFP Charly TRIBALLEAU
Gregory WALTON, with Romain FONSEGRIVES in Los Angeles
The Trump administration has framed its divisive push to round up undocumented migrants in Minnesota as a win for his mass deportation agenda, despite a major backlash and decisive local opposition.
Minneapolis Somali community organizer Mowlid Mohamed said the announcement the massive federal deployment was winding down was “good news, however we don’t know how true it is. It’s hard to believe anything from this administration.”
Local leaders insist the anti-migrant sweeps galvanized opposition which quickly organized to protect vulnerable people who were too terrified to venture out for fear of arrest and deportation, and to monitor and track immigration officers.
The killings of two US citizens, Renee Good and Alex Pretti, alongside the shooting of an unarmed Venezuelan and the arrest of a photogenic five-year-old, proved to be watershed moments.
Hamline University politics professor David Schultz said those developments were what it took “to turn the tide of public opinion against the operation nationally.”
He said that “massive overreach” by the Trump administration helped rally opposition to the deployment — but that “if Trump’s goal was to scare immigrants, he did win — absolutely.”
Criticism led to an apparent re-think by the White House which swapped out the top commander overseeing the operation which was wound down last week.
The sight of detachments of disguised federal officers marauding around the Midwestern Democratic stronghold sparked wide-ranging local action to counter the sweeps.
Initial claims Good and Pretti were “domestic terrorists” were widely condemned — including from within Trump’s own Republican party.
Officials subsequently announced they would pull back on the unprecedented weeks-long surge, nonetheless touting over 4,000 arrests in the state that they say included “worst of the worst” criminals.
Just one-in-10 of the arrests could be reliably tracked using public data, making it difficult to assess how many of those swept up were truly serious criminals.
– ‘Better in our own country’ –
But nationwide data for 2026 shows just over a quarter of people currently in immigration detention nationwide are convicted criminals, and 47.4 percent are completely innocent.
Trump’s border pointman Tom Homan, who has said a limited detachment of agents will remain behind in Minnesota, claimed the withdrawal was because of improved cooperation with local authorities.
But the Democratic sheriff who oversees Minneapolis’s largest county jail has insisted no policy has changed.
Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey, outspoken in his criticism of the surge, claimed victory, saying, “they thought they could break us, but a love for our neighbors and a resolve to endure can outlast an occupation.”
Minneapolis authorities estimated the cost of the operation at $203 million — including losses to the economy, community livelihoods, neighbors’ mental health, and to food and shelter security.
Chelsea Kane, a local who joined a network tracking ICE patrols, said the grassroots response was “something that our city is going to be proud of forever.”
“Tyranny tried to come here, tyranny tried to choke us out, and we stood up and said ‘no’.”
The software engineer, 37, said she hoped other cities could follow Minneapolis’s example in standing up to ICE.
Kane, a former soldier, also stressed that while “it’s slower on detainment in Minneapolis, they’ve just moved to the suburbs… ICE has not left the Twin Cities.”
Many local people told AFP the invasive sweeps in the state had left behind “generational trauma,” a description echoed by a Mexican migrant, Carlos, who has effectively been confined to his home since early December.
Since the announcement of the withdrawal he has left his home only twice, to work.
“I don’t go to the supermarket, or anywhere else,” said the man in his 40s who requested to use a pseudonym for fear of retaliation.
Carlos and his wife now dream of returning to Mexico, even after calling Minneapolis home for more than a decade.
“We came here fleeing our country because we had no safety there,” he said softly.
“(If) we find ourselves in the same situation here, then I think it’s better in our own country.”











