Minnesota’s recent legislative walkout echoes past political maneuvers, highlighting ongoing tensions.
St. Paul: So, the Democrats in Minnesota’s House were thinking about skipping the start of the legislative session. It’s all over a power-sharing spat, and it feels like politics just got a lot tougher here.
But you know, this kind of thing isn’t new. Other states have done similar walkouts to block a majority. In fact, Ballotpedia lists 12 notable state legislative walkouts since 1924.
Now, Minnesota has always prided itself on being civil, right? Well, not really. If you dig back to 1857, you’ll find a pretty similar situation.
Back then, Minnesota was about to become a state, and lawmakers were in a heated debate over its boundaries. The Republicans wanted to stretch the borders from the St. Croix River to the Missouri River, leaving out the northern half of what’s now Minnesota. They thought this would give them a strong hold on power.
On the flip side, the Democrats wanted a mix of farmland and forest, which they believed would be better for the economy. They had a map that looked a lot like what we have today.
Then, on February 12, 1857, the Republicans made a bold move. They passed a bill to move the capital from St. Paul to St. Peter, right in the heart of farming territory.
But the Attorney General, Lafayette Emmett, said that moving the capital without a popular vote was illegal. Still, the House didn’t back down and passed the bill anyway. Newspapers back then were furious, calling the majority “scoundrels” and accusing them of bribery.
Enter Joe Rolette, a colorful character from Minnesota’s past. He was a fur trader who had to walk 400 miles from Pembina to St. Paul because there wasn’t enough snow for his dogsled.
Rolette was a key player in the Legislature that year. After the capital bill passed, he took the engrossed bill and then just disappeared.
Thanks to some clever moves by his friends, the council couldn’t adjourn or do any business. For six days, lawmakers camped out at the Capitol, trying to figure things out. One newspaper even said they were doing just fine.
Meanwhile, Rolette was hiding out in a hotel, playing cards with the sergeant-at-arms, who was supposed to find him. His absence drove his opponents crazy, especially the governor, who was reportedly furious.
Finally, just as the session was about to end, Rolette strolled back into the Capitol with the bill. It was too late for any action, so St. Paul kept its capital status.
Afterward, the newspaper praised Rolette for his loyalty to the territory. But historians later said that the Legislature had already lost its power to change the capital, so the whole thing was a bit of a farce.
This whole episode hinted at the intense partisanship that would follow in Minnesota politics. Not long after, when it was time to draft a constitution, the Democrats walked out again.
Instead of working together, the two parties held separate conventions and never met. Eventually, they did come to some compromises, but it was a rocky road.
