Minneapolis agents placed on leave after officer-involved shooting

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Minneapolis agents involved in shooting placed on leave
Alex Pretti was shot dead by ICE agents in Minneapolis on Saturday

A City Holding Its Breath: After the Shooting in Minneapolis

The candles at the makeshift memorial flicker in a Minnesotan wind that bites the cheeks and carries the smell of old snow and burning sage. Photographs, a nurse’s scrub top, a worn baseball cap—small reliquaries of a life now reduced to memory—crowd a fire hydrant at the corner where the city erupted into outrage.

They are for Alex Pretti, a 37‑year‑old intensive‑care nurse, who was shot dead after a clash between federal agents and protesters last weekend. The footage that put the moment on millions of screens shows camouflaged officers pinning a man to the pavement. In the rush and shock of that image, questions about force, protocol and truth began to multiply, louder than the sirens that have come to haunt Minneapolis this month.

Two Agents on Leave, a City on Edge

Within days, a US Customs and Border Protection spokesperson confirmed what many had assumed: the two agents captured on the video have been placed on administrative leave. “This is standard protocol,” the agency said. It’s a quiet phrase meant to soothe; it does not soothe.

Nearby, a small group of nurses from Hennepin County Medical Center stands vigil in scrubs and winter coats. One, who asked to be named only as Mara, wipes her eyes and says, “Alex was the kind of nurse who’d ask you about your kids and then sneak you a cookie. That’s what hurts—this was a caregiver, not a threat.”

What the Videos Show—and What They Don’t

At first the public was fed a different narrative. An initial Department of Homeland Security statement suggested Pretti approached federal agents with a weapon. The administration’s hardline adviser Stephen Miller amplified that claim, even calling Pretti a “would‑be assassin.”

But the footage contradicted the early line. It shows officers had already removed a sidearm from Pretti before multiple shots were fired at point‑blank range. The discrepancy has pierced the usual political defenses and created a rare bipartisan swell of anger—among Democrats who have denounced the tactics, and among some Republicans who fear the political costs.

An Operation Under Scrutiny

The incident is not an isolated flashpoint. It is part of a broader federal surge in cities across the country: Los Angeles, Chicago, Minneapolis and others have seen visible, heavily armed immigration enforcement actions under programs sometimes dubbed “Operation Metro Surge.” In Minneapolis, officials say roughly 3,000 federal agents were deployed at the height of the operation.

Tom Homan, the administration’s so‑called border czar, has been dispatched to Minneapolis with a stated brief to “recalibrate tactics” and mend fences with local leaders. He met with Mayor Jacob Frey, Governor Tim Walz and city police, and emerged calling the meetings a “productive starting point.” The mayor says he asked for the surge to end “as quickly as possible.”

From Broad Sweeps to Targeted Enforcement?

One senior administration official told reporters that federal strategy would shift away from the broad, public neighborhood sweeps that have provoked so much anger, toward more targeted arrests. “We’re going to change how we operate here,” the official said off the record, echoing the president’s publicly stated intention to “de‑escalate a little bit.”

For people in the neighborhoods where these operations have taken place, talk of “recalibration” offers little balm. In the Cedar‑Riverside district—a neighborhood stitched together by East African markets, Somali cafes and the hum of Minneapolis’ immigrant life—residents describe a sense of invasion.

“They came in like they were at war,” said Amina Hassan, who runs a small store selling spices and tea. “Neighbors are scared to go out. Kids are asking if officers will ‘take’ their fathers.”

Voices from the Streets and the Halls of Power

Protesters have filled city squares nightly. Some bring drums and pots—“noise demonstrations,” as one organizer called them—others bring photographs and candles. At a recent town hall, the mood was raw: Representative Ilhan Omar called for ICE to be abolished and for accountability in DHS; an attendee sprayed an unknown liquid toward her, a chilling reminder of how quickly protest can tip into danger.

Across the political aisle, unease has surfaced. Some Republican lawmakers, mindful of narrow majorities ahead of the next elections, are pressing for transparent investigations. The chief federal judge in Minnesota warned of contempt proceedings over ICE’s failure to comply with court orders related to detainee hearings.

“This has become a crisis of governance,” said Dr. Leah Montrose, a policy analyst at a national immigration think‑tank. “There’s a mismatch between aggressive federal posture and the legal and procedural frameworks meant to constrain force. When clarity isn’t provided quickly, public trust erodes fast.”

Facts, Figures, and the Wider Picture

Two deaths in one month in the context of enforcement operations—a nurse, Alex Pretti, and earlier, Renee Nicole Good, a 37‑year‑old mother of three whose fatal shooting by an ICE officer occurred on 7 January—have intensified scrutiny. A Reuters/Ipsos poll suggested public support for the administration’s aggressive tactics was weakening, eroding the political argument for broad, visible displays of federal force in cities.

It’s worth asking: what does success look like in immigration enforcement? Arrest counts and removal figures are one measure. Community stability, trust in law enforcement, judicial compliance and the humane treatment of residents are others. Too often, policy debates focus on the former and neglect the latter.

What Comes Next?

Investigations now loom—internal administrative reviews, potential federal probes, and calls for independent inquiries. The White House says it will examine whether “additional force protection assets” should have been present during the operation and why they were not. The agents remain on administrative leave while those reviews unfold.

But for many in Minneapolis, answers are not enough. “We want change,” said Jose Ramirez, a union organizer who has been at several vigils. “Not just an investigation that ends with a bureaucratic shrug. We want oversight. We want to know how so many people came to be policed like this in our neighborhoods.”

Questions to Carry With You

  • When federal power meets local life, who sets the rules?
  • How should democracies balance enforcement with civil liberties and public trust?
  • Can policy be both effective and humane—and who decides what that looks like?

The answers will shape not just Minneapolis, but a national conversation about the tone and tools of enforcement in a deeply divided political moment. They will also shape the politics of an upcoming midterm season where parties worry about appearing too permissive or too heavy‑handed. For the grieving families and the neighborhoods holding candles by frozen gutters, political calculus can feel unbearably abstract.

As the city waits for reports, for resignations, for court rulings, and perhaps for justice, Minnesotans are left to conduct their lives in a new atmosphere of suspicion. The question that follows every vigil and every press conference is both practical and moral: what will we learn, and will we change?

In the end, the memorials gather more than flowers. They gather a community’s demand for clarity, for restraint, and for a system that recognizes the full humanity of those it purports to protect. Until those demands are met, the candles will keep burning.