The Sanctuary Agenda
- Virgil Lassiter
- 2 days ago
- 2 min read

“Sanctuary state.” “Sanctuary city.” “Sanctuary town.”
We have heard this rhetoric touted for years—phrases that sound compassionate but in practice have provided political cover for illegal immigration and, increasingly, for individuals who threaten public safety. What began as an abstract policy debate has turned into a crisis in law enforcement and community stability.
The term sanctuary once had a moral connotation—a place of refuge where both mercy and the rule of law were respected. Today, it has become a shield that too often prevents lawful cooperation between local jurisdictions and federal immigration enforcement.
Proponents originally claimed sanctuary policies would help communities by encouraging undocumented residents to report crime without fear of deportation. That pretext has collapsed under the weight of reality. Many sanctuary jurisdictions now refuse even to honor legitimate Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) detainers for criminal illegal aliens. Instead of being transferred to federal custody, these individuals are released back into the communities they have already harmed. Add to this the no-cash-bail policies prevailing in many Democratic-run cities and states, and the result is predictable: offenders swiftly return to the streets, untouched by accountability.
This political calculus forces federal immigration officers to operate in plain sight in neighborhoods and workplaces—exactly what sanctuary advocates claim to abhor. When lawful detainers are ignored, ICE has no choice but to engage directly with individuals where they live and work, increasing tensions and making enforcement more visible and confrontational.
Nowhere has this collision been more explosive than in Minneapolis, where the fatal shooting of 37-year-old Renée Nicole Good has intensified the national debate. On January 7, 2026, an ICE agent shot and killed Good during an operation in the city. Federal authorities contend the officer acted in self-defense after Good’s vehicle moved in the vicinity of agents; critics—including eyewitnesses and local officials—dispute that narrative and argue the shooting was unjustified.
Good’s death has since sparked widespread protests, drawing thousands into the streets and elevating tensions between federal agents and activists. The Justice Department has publicly declined to open a civil rights investigation into the shooting, while simultaneously pursuing inquiries into local officials for allegedly impeding federal enforcement.
Make no mistake: the tragedy of Ms. Good’s death is real and mournful. But if sanctuary policies essentially compel federal enforcement into direct confrontation with civilians rather than coordinated custody transfers, then the blame for heightened conflict does not rest solely with officers acting under duress—it also rests with the political decisions that have eroded the rule of law and driven a wedge between communities and law enforcement.
A sovereign nation cannot choose which laws to enforce based on political sentiment or ideological allegiance. Immigration enforcement—like all law enforcement—is fundamentally about preserving public safety and order. When sanctuary rhetoric obstructs lawful cooperation, it undermines both.
The debate over policy should be vigorous and honest. But when protests against federal enforcement erupt around incidents like the death of Renée Good, we must distinguish between legitimate calls for accountability and opportunistic narratives that exploit tragedy to resist the rule of law. Sanctuary policies did not just fail—they helped create the very conditions that made this confrontation almost inevitable.




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