The professor facing prison in ‘antifa’ case: ‘They want to scare all who oppose ICE’

Erik Davis is accused by the government of a ‘conspiracy’ to obstruct ICE – experts say it’s part of a pattern to criminalize lawful organizing and ruin activists’ lives

Erik Davis was driving to a medical appointment in St Paul, Minnesota, on 16 June when federal agents surrounded his car.

“They hauled me out … and put me in a belly chain,” recalled the 53-year-old. He was arrested on the spot on charges of being part of a “conspiracy” to “impede or injure” Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) officers.

Davis, a college professor and father of two, was one of thousands of Minnesotans who had rallied earlier this year when the Trump administration launched an aggressive crackdown on immigrants in the Twin Cities.

Now the government alleged that he and 14 others used “force, intimidation, and threats” to prevent officers from carrying out their duties.

In its 94-page indictment, the government has argued that Direct Action Minnesota, the loose coalition of organizers that Davis was connected with, conspired to obstruct federal law enforcement and had “ties” to “antifa”. The prosecution follows a pattern seen in other cases against demonstrators this year, with the government highlighting the comments and actions of some activists in the coalition to paint all 15 defendants as agitators pursuing violence against ICE.

One such case in Chicago spectacularly collapsed last month. Demonstrators in Texas were recently convicted of terrorism charges and sentenced to decades behind bars, though in that case one protester shot and injured an officer. Prosecutors have not alleged any specific injuries to officers in Minnesota.

Civil rights advocates have said these prosecutions, even when unsuccessful, are part of an effort to criminalize lawful community organizing, weaken movements opposing deportations and turn the lives of activists upside down.

Davis, the government says, has attended and facilitated meetings about protests and discussed his “anti-authoritarian” ideology with other activists. He is not accused of violent acts, taking any specific actions at protests nor having any encounters with ICE agents.

“It’s petty revenge,” Davis said. “They’re trying to portray being part of a community as an illegal conspiratorial act.”

Davis, and other defendants interviewed by the Guardian, are confident that the case against them will collapse. But the government is trying to send a signal, he said: “This isn’t just about us. It’s about trying to scare everybody who opposes ICE.”

Davis is a Buddhist studies scholar at Macalester College in St Paul and has long been part of labor organizing and activism against police violence in the region. When federal agents flooded the Twin Cities in January in a massive effort to round up immigrants, he felt compelled to step up, he said: “It was a federal invasion and terror campaign on our streets. The behavior of these masked thugs was horrific … they were ripping human beings out of families.”

Outrage and local organizing efforts swelled following the killings of Renee Good and Alex Pretti. There were rapid response and mutual aid networks, groups documenting ICE sightings, know-your-rights training sessions, food donations for immigrant families trapped at home. And many joined Signal groups with strangers to get plugged in.

“It was astonishing. The overwhelming sense was that almost everybody was opposed and angry and scared, and almost everybody wanted to do something,” said Davis, who joined hyper-local group chats with neighbors.

The indictment does not describe Davis orchestrating any specific protest plans, giving detailed directions to other activists or conducting any violence. It does allege that on 11 January, four days after Good’s killing, Davis helped facilitate an “emergency meeting” for residents interested in “resistance to ICE” that featured discussions of protest tactics, like civil disobedience, marches and “blockades” to stop ICE officers.

Prosecutors also cite a post by Davis in a Signal group six days later in which he shared information about upcoming protests and encouraged people to be at a federal immigration building. The indictment further notes Davis suggested people delete the group while on the ground during demonstrations, and that he participated in two additional meetings and a rally.

The indictment accuses other defendants of more serious offenses: eight of the other defendants are said to have participated in an action at a federal building on 1 March where demonstrators held shields and blocked vehicles from entering or leaving a federal building. Prosecutors say “individuals threw projectiles” at local sheriffs during the protest, but did not specify if any defendants were involved in that.

Four defendants face charges for separate incidents. One is accused of telling people to get guns in January. One is accused of following an agent in May to Wisconsin, just across the state border. And one is accused of assault and destruction of government property after allegedly knocking paperwork out of an agent’s hand and kicking an officer’s car in May. The indictment doesn’t allege Davis was involved in any of the incidents in March or May.

Across the indictment, there are no allegations of injuries to specific ICE officers, or charges of serious violence like there were in the recent federal prosecution of protesters in Prairieland, Texas, in which one protester shot and injured an officer.

Daniel Rosen, the Minnesota US attorney, said whether the Minneapolis protesters caused physical harm was not the measure of criminality in this case.

The broader suggestion of the indictment is that Davis’s statements in Signal chats and meetings, alongside the statements and actions of others, show the groups collectively were conspiring to oppose the US government’s authority and interfere with ICE – and that they were connected to “Antifa groups” that “blend anarchist and communist views”.

At a press conference announcing the charges, Rosen said the prosecution supported the mission of Donald Trump’s executive order last year that designated “antifa” a “domestic terrorist organization” responsible for “riots” against ICE. Antifa is not a formal entity, but an umbrella term for a wide array of anti-fascist activism.

To support the alleged “antifa” connection, the Department of Justice has highlighted a photo showing one of the defendants wearing an “I’m Antifa!” sweatshirt. Prosecutors also quoted another defendant’s post on Facebook: “YOU WILL NEVER WIN WITH NON-VIOLENCE ALONE.”

The indictment does not cite any comments by Davis about antifa. The charges don’t define the relationships of the protesters to one another, nor does it provide evidence that defendants like Davis endorsed the more radical statements or actions of others facing charges.

Authorities say Davis referred to his ideologies as “anarchist”, “broadly anti-authoritarian” and “broadly anti-capitalist” and praised the “revolutionary potential of our organizations” and “militancy” in a Signal message.

Spokespeople for the Department of Justice in Minnesota declined to comment. A Department of Homeland Security spokesperson declined to answer questions about the case, pointing to an earlier statement saying people who “lay a hand on law enforcement … will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law”.

Davis said his own political beliefs are focused on expanding equality and people’s freedoms and opposing state violence and authoritarianism – far removed, he said, from the stereotype of a violent “anarchist” extremist.

Davis said the meeting he helped facilitate involved more than a hundred participants with a wide range of ideologies – a space for people to come together after Good’s killing. “I’m not sure I’m described as doing anything illegal, which makes sense, because I didn’t.” He noted it was common for people to delete Signal chats at protests due to concerns about officers accessing phones during arrests.

“It’s bewildering. It seemed weird and laughable,” Davis said of the indictment. “It felt like the length of the indictment was a cover for how thin it actually was. I’m a professor. I’ve seen people pad out papers when they’ve got nothing to say.”

Among the Minnesota protesters facing the most severe charges is Natasha Rakotz.

Rakotz, a 45-year-old home health aide, said it took her a while to get involved in organizing efforts after ICE arrived in the city. She said she wasn’t connected to any activist groups and didn’t know where to start. But she felt morally obligated: “People say, if it was 1935 Germany, what would I do? I couldn’t do nothing. I couldn’t sit by and wait for them to kill somebody else. I couldn’t sit in my privileged white existence and allow the government to absolutely ravage people that need protecting … It felt like nobody was going to save us.”

Rakotz eventually linked up with groups monitoring ICE and threw herself into the work. Like Davis, Rakotz faces conspiracy charges. The government says she participated in a Signal chat focused on observing ICE vehicles, talking about what times she would be observing and how she takes photos of license plates. She asked others what they had observed and said she was interested in learning more about civil disobedience.

But in addition, the justice department says that on 18 May, Rakotz followed a federal immigration officer’s vehicle, “brake checked” and “side swiped” the car, “causing a collision”. The indictment does not provide further details.

Rakotz has denied the allegation. State records show local officers called to the scene of the collision cited her for a misdemeanor of allegedly violating her “duty to drive with due care”, a minor offense. A court report said she told an officer she was not following the federal agent and the collision was an accident. She was not arrested at that time.

Eventually, state prosecutors dropped the misdemeanor, saying federal prosecutors were filing charges covering the incident. The US attorney’s office has since accused Rakotz of assault on an officer, with a charge alleging “physical contact” and “injury”, though the indictment doesn’t identify a victim nor specify the injuries the collision may have caused, and it doesn’t detail any damage to the government’s car. That charge could carry a 20-year sentence on top of six years for conspiracy.

“I really believe these charges are going to get dropped because they’re unfounded and ridiculous,” said Rakotz. “But I feel like the process is the punishment.”

A trial date has not been set and complicated cases like this can drag on for months.

In the meantime, the consequences of the case have been far-reaching for the defendants. “They are trying to ruin our lives … I try not to remind myself all the time that the consequence of this bureaucracy is my freedom,” said Davis.

Davis worries about impacts on his career. He said he has long strived to keep his academic work and activism separate, but now thrust into the spotlight as an alleged “conspirator”, he wonders if his scholarship could be affected.

He has struggled to sleep, and the case has taken a toll on his personal relationships, he said. The 15 defendants are under a strict “no contact” order with each other, which has meant he has been cut off from several close friends, who are also defendants in the case.

He has worked hard to not dwell on the possibility of being locked up for six years: “I suspect I’m going to be afraid at some point and will have to process that … but I’ve been able to be unafraid because of the support and solidarity we’ve received.”

Both Davis and Rakotz said they didn’t want the case to discourage others from organizing against ICE and hoped people would stay focused on immigrant communities subjected to ICE enforcement and violence.

“Far more important than anything that happens to us is continuing to organize against the armed masked people in our streets,” Davis said.

Rakotz said she, too, had tried not to think about what a conviction would mean. “I am free right now and I refuse to let this stop me from enjoying life and doing what I can to positively impact the community.”

She paused. “And if I have to go to prison because I did what I could for the greater good, I’m ready and willing to do that.”