The reach of the Trump administration’s domestic spying apparatus is being laid bare—and it is deeply troubling.
Later today, a federal judge in Minneapolis will hear a discovery motion in the Minnesota 15 antifa case. If granted, it could ultimately illuminate just how far the sprawling network of surveillance, pressure, and intimidation directed at the administration’s critics in Minnesota extended—and how much of it endures to this day.
In mid‑June, the federal government unsealed an eight-count indictment against 15 activists for allegedly obstructing, and at times violently opposing, the federal immigration crackdown that unsettled the Twin Cities last winter, during which federal agents shot and killed Renée Good and Alex Pretti. One of those charged, Isaac Sant, faces two counts: conspiracy to impede or injure a federal officer and interstate stalking.
Sant will appear in court, and if the case goes to trial, a jury will determine whether the government has proven its accusations beyond a reasonable doubt. As he and his counsel prepare a defense, they have filed a discovery motion accusing the federal government of “an unprecedented campaign by DHS (Department of Homeland Security) to spy on Minnesotans,” drawing on the government’s own initial disclosures.
Arguing that his prosecution stems from a political witch hunt based on activity protected by the First Amendment, Sant and his attorney, Kevin C. Riach, are petitioning a Minnesota federal court to compel the release of any and all communications and materials connected to the charges Sant faces. (Earlier this week, Protect Democracy filed an amicus brief in support of Sant’s discovery motion on behalf of the Cato Institute, the Society for the Rule of Law, and the Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression.)
What has already surfaced in this case evokes the specters of Sen. Joseph McCarthy (R–Wisc.) and FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover. At its core is Homeland Security Investigations (HSI), the DHS’s principal criminal investigative arm, which is operating more like a domestic intelligence agency than a constitutionally bound law‑enforcement body.
During last winter’s Operation Metro Surge, undercover HSI agents monitored and infiltrated gatherings at churches, parks, libraries, schools, and union halls, gaining access to encrypted Signal chats under initiatives dubbed “Operation Keyhole,” “Operation Puppet Master,” and “Project Whipple Shield.”
In one February incident, an undercover agent infiltrated a meeting at Prince of Peace Lutheran Church in Roseville, a suburb on the edge of the Twin Cities. The agent recorded license plates of activists opposing ICE activity and then linked the plates to their owners, constructing dossiers that included names, photos, addresses, and even more intimate details such as information about their families and employment.
“None of these individuals did anything other than exercise First Amendment speech in a church meeting room,” wrote Riach in the discovery motion. “Yet now their personal information is memorialized in a DHS dossier.”
During a recent service at the church, interim pastor Steve Sylvester told his congregation that the federal government had surveilled the church last winter. “It feels weird,” Sylvester told NPR. “It feels like I’m living in 1950s Eastern Europe.” Sylvester’s church wasn’t the only one under watch in this contemporary remake of The Lives of Others.
In May, another undercover agent wore a wire at a training held at University Baptist Church in Minneapolis and hosted by Left Jab, a left-leaning mixed martial arts club devoted to “community self-defense.” The surveillance even yielded a moment of dark humor. “Due to the physical nature of the event,” reads the HSI report of investigation, the undercover agent’s “concealed body-worn audio recorder erroneously fell to the floor of the gymnasium near the end of the training. UCA–5022 briefly left the gymnasium, realized she no longer had the device, and returned to the gymnasium to retrieve the device from the floor.”
But Cody Sanders, interim pastor of University Baptist, wasn’t laughing. “I do imagine people will look over their shoulder a little more and wonder, ‘Is there someone here who’s trying to gather information?’ Or when they see a strange car in the parking lot,” Sanders told NPR. “I hope we can resist the kind of suspicion that this is likely to generate.”
Yet that is not a flaw but a feature of these police-state approaches. Revelations like these strengthen the corrosive power of paranoia, prompting people to fear that something they say or someone they associate with could land them in a federal database. Constitutional rights are hollow if you are afraid to exercise them.
The coercive tactics, however, extend beyond that. Without judicial review, HSI issued administrative summonses and subpoenas targeting the financial records of labor unions and progressive nonprofit groups. Without their knowledge, the agency sought more than three years of records from the Service Employees International Union, Communications Workers of America, and the International Federation of Professional and Technical Engineers. It also sought financial data from the Sunrise Movement and Voices for Racial Justice, both progressive organizations.
The federal government ties this investigation to National Security Presidential Memorandum–7 (NSPM–7). In HSI’s own investigation report, the summary states plainly that the probe at Prince of Peace church was opened in “accordance with” the memorandum.
Drafted by President Donald Trump in the wake of the murder of conservative activist Charlie Kirk, NSPM–7 explicitly places political beliefs within its domestic terrorism framework. The directive characterizes “anti-fascism” as an umbrella under which “violent and terroristic activities” occur and lists beliefs such as “anti-Americanism, anti-capitalism, and anti-Christianity,” along with what it calls “extremism on migration, race, and gender,” as some of the “common threads” driving violent conduct. It then assigns the national and local Joint Terrorism Task Forces the task of coordinating and overseeing “a comprehensive national strategy” and directs the Department of Justice to pursue prosecutions.
In her December memo implementing NSPM–7, then-Attorney General Pam Bondi touched on civil liberties concerns in a footnote. “The United States Government does not investigate, collect, or maintain information on U.S. persons solely for the purpose of monitoring activities protected by the First Amendment,” reads the second footnote. “No investigation may be opened based solely on activities protected by the First Amendment or the lawful exercise of rights secured by the Constitution or laws of the United States.”
When NSPM–7 was issued, civil liberties groups such as the Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression (FIRE) warned that the directive and its implementation would likely lead to federal probes of government critics for First Amendment activities without evidence of criminal wrongdoing. That prediction is, regrettably, coming true, despite the government’s assurances that it would not cross the line.
In the months and years ahead, activists, journalists, lawyers, and lawmakers will seek to uncover the full extent of NSPM‑7’s vast surveillance apparatus. Time will tell how many Americans were swept into these programs without any proof of wrongdoing and how many were chilled from exercising their rights to free speech and association.
This discovery motion stands as one of the early steps toward uncovering the truth.
