The fight over Minnesota's state flag has ignited a firestorm, and one mayor is refusing to back down. In Champlin, a Minneapolis suburb, Mayor Ryan Sabas is flying the original 1983 flag defiantly, calling the new replacement an "ugly" betrayal of the people's will.
"In nearly ten years on the city council and four as mayor, I've never heard from more people on any single issue," Sabas declared. The outcry has been overwhelming, with residents flooding his office demanding the old flag stay put.
But this isn't just a squabble over fabric and design. It's a raw nerve in a state still staggering from one of the largest fraud scandals in U.S. history, a scandal that heavily involved the Somali immigrant community. The new flag, approved by a 13-member commission created by the Democratic-controlled legislature in 2023, has become a cultural and political flashpoint.
Critics slam the design as overly simplistic—some even call it a striking resemblance to Somalia's national flag. Sabas claims a two-to-one majority in favor of the old flag, arguing that many feel their history has been erased, while others simply think the new one is "ugly."
Then there's the cost. Champlin alone spent $40,000 swapping out flags. Sabas is now demanding Governor Tim Walz and the legislature reopen the issue and let the people decide. "These are the people's flagpoles. This is the people's decision," he thundered.
The old flag—a blue field with the state seal, a farmer, an American Indian figure, the state motto, and the founding date. The new flag? A dark shape of Minnesota on a light blue field with an eight-point North Star. The Emblems Redesign Commission boasted of "extensive public input" and "over 2,500 entries." But many Minnesotans feel utterly unrepresented.
In February, the Champlin City Council voted unanimously to keep the original flag flying. That has put them in the crosshairs of some Democrats in the legislature who want to crack down on the dozen or so towns and counties refusing to comply.
Sabas insists Champlin is legally within its rights to fly whichever flag it chooses—or none at all. He has no personal attachment to the old design, but he seethes at how the process unfolded. "Two years ago, the governor and Democrats had full power. They legally could have changed the flag. But instead of bringing it to the House and Senate for a vote, they picked a committee. That committee chose the flag."
Now, Sabas argues, Walz and the legislature have a chance to "do it legally and do it right." State Senator Mark Koran, a Republican, drives the point home. He says the "bipartisan" commission represented only "about 13 percent of Minnesota's population," pandering to special groups rather than the broader citizenry. "It's a direct assault on hard-working, legal U.S. Minnesotans," Koran charged.
Back in Champlin, council member Tim Huttner took his own informal poll at a roundtable with constituents. "100 percent support for flying the original flag," he found. When asked his opinion, Huttner replied, "I don't have an opinion. I work for you." His verdict on the whole mess: "Sometimes you've got to redo a redo. This is one of those times."
Mayor Sabas, leading a purple municipality, issues a direct challenge to Governor Walz. "I've always felt he listens when I have something to say. So I challenge him in his last year as governor to truly find a way to unite us—Republicans, Democrats, and everyone in between. Unite Minnesotans."
