Digital Dragnet: Inside the Surveillance Tactics Powering Trump's Minnesota Immigration Crackdown
MINNEAPOLIS — Luis Martinez’s morning drive to work ended abruptly when unmarked vehicles surrounded his SUV, forcing him to a halt on a frozen Minneapolis street. Masked federal agents approached, demanding identification. Then, one held a smartphone close to Martinez’s face, scanning his features in a silent, digital interrogation that repeated one pointed question: “Are you a U.S. citizen?”
The scene, captured this week in a suburban neighborhood, offers a glimpse into the rapidly evolving tactics of the Trump administration’s immigration crackdown in Minnesota—an operation officials describe as the largest of its kind, but one now under national scrutiny after agents shot and killed two U.S. citizens earlier this month.
While the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) insists its enforcement actions are precisely targeted at serious offenders, internal documents, photographs, and firsthand accounts reveal a different reality. Agents are increasingly relying on a sprawling digital surveillance apparatus, powered by biometric scans and interconnected databases, to identify and detain individuals.
“What we’re witnessing is the normalization of real-time biometric surveillance in everyday policing,” said civil liberties attorney Anya Sharma, who tracks DHS programs. “The infrastructure built for border security is now being deployed in American cities, often with minimal transparency or accountability.”
Over the past year, DHS has dramatically expanded its data-collection capabilities through agreements with local, state, and international agencies, as well as contracts with technology firms and data brokers. The resulting networks pool immigration and travel records, facial images, vehicle data, and more—enabling authorities to monitor movements and identities at a scale previously unimaginable.
In Martinez’s case, the facial scan failed to produce a match. He was released only after presenting his U.S. passport, which he now carries specifically due to fears of such encounters. “I used to call Minnesota a paradise for all cultures,” he told the AP. “Now people are fleeing the state. It’s terrifying. It doesn’t feel safe anymore.”
Central to these operations is an app called Mobile Fortify, disclosed by DHS this week. The tool, developed by vendor NEC, allows agents in the field to compare live facial scans against “trusted source photos” from government databases. According to a lawsuit filed by Illinois and Chicago, the app has been used over 100,000 times in the field. DHS claims it maintains a “high-matching threshold” and uses only limited immigration data, but agents are rarely seen seeking consent before scanning.
“The technology itself isn’t new—it’s adapted from airport systems—but the context is,” noted former CBP senior adviser Dan Herman, now with the Center for American Progress. “When you move this into street-level enforcement without clear guidelines, you create significant risks for privacy and civil liberties. The potential for abuse or misidentification is substantial.”
Those concerns are amplified by parallel investments in emerging technologies. Congress recently authorized over $2.7 billion for CBP to enhance border surveillance with AI and other tools. DHS is also piloting more than 100 AI systems, some for law enforcement, and has extended a $30 million contract with Palantir to build systems for locating individuals flagged for deportation.
Rachel Levinson-Waldman, director of the Brennan Center’s Liberty and National Security Program, warns that the blurring of lines between immigration enforcement and general surveillance could have far-reaching consequences. “We’re developing these tools for one purpose, but history shows surveillance capabilities rarely stay in their original lane,” she said. “Will they be used against U.S. citizens engaged in lawful protest or dissent? That’s the critical question.”
The lack of federal standards for facial recognition use has drawn sharp criticism. In a September 2024 report, the U.S. Commission on Civil Rights highlighted concerns over accuracy, discrimination, and due process. Meanwhile, the administration has scaled back body-camera programs for ICE agents, though footage from recent fatal shootings is under review.
As the digital dragnet widens, Minnesota residents like Martinez are left navigating a landscape where a smartphone scan can determine freedom or detention—and where the promise of security increasingly clashes with the right to privacy.
Voices from the Community
Michael Chen, 42, Software Engineer (Minneapolis): “This isn’t about immigration enforcement anymore—it’s about testing surveillance infrastructure on the public. The tech is outpacing the law, and once it’s embedded, it’s nearly impossible to roll back.”
Rebecca Vance, 58, School Principal (St. Paul): “I’ve seen fear ripple through our student families. Parents are afraid to drive, to report crimes, to engage. When trust erodes, the whole community suffers.”
Derrick Moss, 36, Community Organizer (North Minneapolis): [Emotional/Sharp] “They’re treating our neighborhoods like a testing ground for their biometric panopticon. Masked agents, face scans without consent—this is dystopian, un-American policing. It’s a deliberate campaign to terrorize immigrant communities, and anyone who thinks it won’t expand to target dissenters is naive.”
Priya Kapoor, 50, Immigration Lawyer (Bloomington): “The legal framework hasn’t caught up to the technology. We’re seeing unconstitutional searches disguised as ‘identity verification.’ Without judicial or legislative checks, these practices will become standard.”
AP freelance photojournalist Adam Gray contributed to this report from Minneapolis.
Contact AP’s global investigative team at [email protected] or https://www.ap.org/tips/.