The progressive heart of Minneapolis, long a beacon of liberal ideals, finds itself grappling with an increasingly public and poignant internal debate, one that challenges the very definition of modern progressivism.
At its core, this isn’t a skirmish between the left and the right, but a nuanced, at times acrimonious, ideological wrestling match among those who identify as champions of social and economic justice.
Jacob Hill, a DFL political organizer with roots in the 2016 Bernie Sanders presidential campaign, stands as a compelling voice in this unfolding narrative, arguing passionately that the current iteration of democratic socialism, particularly as embodied by the local Democratic Socialists of America (DSA), has strayed far from the pragmatic, results-oriented spirit of New Deal progressivism.
Hill’s perspective is particularly insightful, given his past dedication to a campaign that galvanized a generation of left-leaning voters.
Yet, he now posits that the central value he held dear – materially benefiting lower- and middle-class Americans – is better served by the “pragmatic progressive” leadership of figures like Mayor Jacob Frey, rather than the agenda advanced by mayoral challenger State Senator Omar Fateh and his DSA allies.
This isn’t to say there’s no common ground; indeed, Minneapolis has seen significant advancements consistent with a social democratic agenda over the past decade.
The implementation of a $15 minimum wage, earned sick and safe time, and substantial investments in affordable housing were broad coalition efforts, often led by a mix of “moderates” and “leftists.”
These are not points of division, Hill asserts, but rather points of consensus that underscore a shared commitment to a more equitable city.
The true fault lines, however, emerge when examining specific policy approaches, particularly as the city looks ahead to the 2025 mayoral election.
This contest, framed by Hill, is not a choice between democratic socialists and MAGA Republicans, but a crucial distinction between progressive Democrats and DSA members, whose disagreements, he argues, have become decisive.
Foremost among these contentious issues is the highly charged debate surrounding policing. Nationally, the DSA platform continues to advocate for “defunding” the police, a stance echoed by the Twin Cities DSA’s local endorsement questionnaire.
This ideological commitment has translated into tangible opposition, with DSA-backed council members reportedly rejecting proposals to use state aid for police recruitment and retention, even as Minneapolis already struggles with the lowest police staffing per capita among major U.S. cities.
Mayor Frey, in stark contrast, has championed reforms, including a consent decree aimed at accountability, while striving to maintain a functioning, professional police force.
The implications for public safety and community trust are profound, with critics arguing that an understaffed force directly undermines the well-being of working-class neighborhoods most affected by crime.
Another critical divergence lies in the approach to housing affordability.
Minneapolis has enjoyed relative housing affordability, not through rent control – which the city notably lacks – but through a proactive strategy of building supply.
Mayor Frey has led efforts in zoning reform and the production of affordable units, betting on market dynamics tempered with strategic investment.
The DSA, conversely, has prioritized strict rent control policies, despite the cautionary tale unfolding just across the river in St. Paul.
There, the implementation of rent control led to an almost immediate freeze in new housing construction.
Ironically, rents in St. Paul have since risen faster, prompting the city to abandon the policy in less than four years.
The lesson, for Hill, is stark: one approach fosters investment and builds homes, while the other risks stifling the very supply needed to make housing accessible.
Finally, the debate extends to the fundamental question of city capacity and public service delivery.
While DSA council members often decry privatization, their legislative record, particularly in the 2025 budget discussions, reveals a paradoxical tendency to siphon funds away from core city services performed by union workers.
A staggering 71 budget amendments, Hill notes, repeatedly shifted money toward what he describes as “unaccountable nonprofits.”
Pragmatic progressives, on the other hand, have focused on strengthening the city’s own infrastructure and workforce, investing in public works, regulatory services, and essential staffing to deliver services directly and equitably to residents.
This difference, though seemingly technical, goes to the heart of governmental efficacy and the direct benefit to citizens.
These are not minor philosophical quibbles.
They represent fundamental disagreements about how a city can effectively keep its residents safe, ensure housing affordability, and maintain essential services.
The argument put forth by Hill is that working people, the very demographic Bernie Sanders sought to uplift, do not benefit from a defunded police force unable to respond to crime, nor from the proliferation of homeless encampments in public spaces.
They certainly do not benefit, he contends, from municipal councils spending over a month debating international resolutions while pressing local issues languish.
The historical trajectory of Minneapolis DFL leadership, from Hubert Humphrey to Jacob Frey, has been characterized by a commitment to tangible, sustainable progress.
The question looming over the 2025 election is whether the city will continue to build upon this foundation of pragmatic governance or embark on what Hill characterizes as “ideological experiments that sound bold but don’t work in practice.”
Minneapolis, he concludes pointedly, is not a political lab.
It is a home, and its residents deserve a government focused on the practicalities of making it a better, safer, and more affordable place to live, rather than pursuing policies divorced from their real-world consequences.
