I've never bought the whole Minnesota nice thing:
ST. CLOUD, Minn. — John Palmer, a former university professor, has always had a cause. For decades he urged Minnesota officials to face the dangers of drunken driving and embrace seatbelts. Now he has a new goal: curbing the resettlement of Somali refugees in St. Cloud, after a few thousand moved into this small city where Mr. Palmer has lived for decades.
Every weekday, he sits in the same spot at Culver’s restaurant — the corner booth near the Kwik Trip — and begins his daily intake of news from xenophobic and conspiratorial sites, such as JihadWatch.org, and articles with titles like “Lifting the Veil on the ‘Islamophobia’ Hoax.” On Thursdays, Mr. Palmer hosts a group called Concerned Community Citizens, or C-Cubed, which he formed to pressure local officials over the Muslim refugees. Mr. Palmer said at a recent meeting he viewed them as innately less intelligent than the “typical” American citizen, as well as a threat.
“The very word ‘Islamophobia’ is a false narrative,” Mr. Palmer, 70, said. “A phobia is an irrational fear.” Raising his voice, he added, “An irrational fear! There are many reasons we are not being irrational.”
In this predominantly white region of central Minnesota, the influx of Somalis, most of whom are Muslim, has spurred the sort of demographic and cultural shifts that President Trump and right-wing conservatives have stoked fears about for years. The resettlement has divided many politically active residents of St. Cloud, with some saying they welcome the migrants.
But for others, the changes have fueled talk about “white replacement,” a racist conspiracy theory tied to the declining birthrates of white Americans that has spread in far-right circles and online chat rooms and is now surfacing in some communities.
“If we start changing our way of life to accommodate where they came from, guess what happens to our country?” said Liz Baklaich, a member of C-Cubed who unsuccessfully ran for St. Cloud City Council last year. She carries an annotated Quran in her purse. “If our country becomes like Somalia, there is nowhere for us to go.”
. . . Kim Crockett, the vice president and general counsel of a conservative Minnesota think tank called the Center of the American Experiment, said she intended to eventually sue the state and challenge the resettlement program in court.
“I think of America, the great assimilator, as a rubber band, but with this — we’re at the breaking point,” Ms. Crockett said. “These aren’t people coming from Norway, let’s put it that way. These people are very visible.”
. . . Paul Brandmire, a Republican member of the St. Cloud City Council who is skeptical about the resettlement program, said some white residents had come to see themselves in a fight for survival.
“They’re becoming American citizens. And they have every right to, but this is killing us,” he continued. “This is the Hatfields and McCoys.”
. . . Bob Carrillo, a former radio host who lives in St. Michael, Minn., and has gained prominence for his anti-immigrant stance, said Mr. Trump had given voice to the concerns of “longtime Minnesotans.” At a coffee shop in St. Cloud, Mr. Carrillo also set a framed picture of his white grandchildren on the center of the table, meant to amplify the emotional impact of his xenophobic thesis: that Muslims pose an existential threat to the safety of his family.
“They’re 2 percent of the population right now, and in 5 to 10 years they’ll be at 5 percent,” Mr. Carrillo said. “At that point, we’re done for.”
. . . During a meeting of about 10 C-Cubed members in April at the Faith Lutheran Church in St. Cloud, Mr. Palmer steered a free-flowing discussion that began by comparing abortion access to the Holocaust and moved on to the city’s so-called refugee problem, and what the group could do to address it. Almost all of those present voiced some support for Mr. Trump. Others said that markers of progress were more interpersonal, and they would only be comfortable in their community if the Somali-born refugees converted to Christianity.
One woman, who declined to give her name after the group discussion, bemoaned the city’s so-called no-go zones, or the areas where white residents said they felt so uncomfortable with the Somali-American presence that they would not return — a shopping mall, a community housing center and Beaver Island Trail, a hiking area that borders the Mississippi River.
“They were just —” she said, searching for the words to describe the offending behavior of the Somali-Americans. “They were just walking around.”
Every weekday, he sits in the same spot at Culver’s restaurant — the corner booth near the Kwik Trip — and begins his daily intake of news from xenophobic and conspiratorial sites, such as JihadWatch.org, and articles with titles like “Lifting the Veil on the ‘Islamophobia’ Hoax.” On Thursdays, Mr. Palmer hosts a group called Concerned Community Citizens, or C-Cubed, which he formed to pressure local officials over the Muslim refugees. Mr. Palmer said at a recent meeting he viewed them as innately less intelligent than the “typical” American citizen, as well as a threat.
“The very word ‘Islamophobia’ is a false narrative,” Mr. Palmer, 70, said. “A phobia is an irrational fear.” Raising his voice, he added, “An irrational fear! There are many reasons we are not being irrational.”
In this predominantly white region of central Minnesota, the influx of Somalis, most of whom are Muslim, has spurred the sort of demographic and cultural shifts that President Trump and right-wing conservatives have stoked fears about for years. The resettlement has divided many politically active residents of St. Cloud, with some saying they welcome the migrants.
But for others, the changes have fueled talk about “white replacement,” a racist conspiracy theory tied to the declining birthrates of white Americans that has spread in far-right circles and online chat rooms and is now surfacing in some communities.
“If we start changing our way of life to accommodate where they came from, guess what happens to our country?” said Liz Baklaich, a member of C-Cubed who unsuccessfully ran for St. Cloud City Council last year. She carries an annotated Quran in her purse. “If our country becomes like Somalia, there is nowhere for us to go.”
. . . Kim Crockett, the vice president and general counsel of a conservative Minnesota think tank called the Center of the American Experiment, said she intended to eventually sue the state and challenge the resettlement program in court.
“I think of America, the great assimilator, as a rubber band, but with this — we’re at the breaking point,” Ms. Crockett said. “These aren’t people coming from Norway, let’s put it that way. These people are very visible.”
. . . Paul Brandmire, a Republican member of the St. Cloud City Council who is skeptical about the resettlement program, said some white residents had come to see themselves in a fight for survival.
“They’re becoming American citizens. And they have every right to, but this is killing us,” he continued. “This is the Hatfields and McCoys.”
. . . Bob Carrillo, a former radio host who lives in St. Michael, Minn., and has gained prominence for his anti-immigrant stance, said Mr. Trump had given voice to the concerns of “longtime Minnesotans.” At a coffee shop in St. Cloud, Mr. Carrillo also set a framed picture of his white grandchildren on the center of the table, meant to amplify the emotional impact of his xenophobic thesis: that Muslims pose an existential threat to the safety of his family.
“They’re 2 percent of the population right now, and in 5 to 10 years they’ll be at 5 percent,” Mr. Carrillo said. “At that point, we’re done for.”
. . . During a meeting of about 10 C-Cubed members in April at the Faith Lutheran Church in St. Cloud, Mr. Palmer steered a free-flowing discussion that began by comparing abortion access to the Holocaust and moved on to the city’s so-called refugee problem, and what the group could do to address it. Almost all of those present voiced some support for Mr. Trump. Others said that markers of progress were more interpersonal, and they would only be comfortable in their community if the Somali-born refugees converted to Christianity.
One woman, who declined to give her name after the group discussion, bemoaned the city’s so-called no-go zones, or the areas where white residents said they felt so uncomfortable with the Somali-American presence that they would not return — a shopping mall, a community housing center and Beaver Island Trail, a hiking area that borders the Mississippi River.
“They were just —” she said, searching for the words to describe the offending behavior of the Somali-Americans. “They were just walking around.”
