This campaign talks a lot about self-government — that power belongs closest to the people, that Minnesota shouldn't outsource its decisions to Washington. If you actually believe that principle, then intellectual honesty requires understanding the truest example of it in this state, one that predates Minnesota itself: the sovereignty of the eleven tribal nations within our borders.
I want to write about this carefully and without romanticizing it, because both the sentimental version and the dismissive version get it wrong. Tribal sovereignty is not a cultural courtesy or a historical footnote. It is a legal fact, older than the state and, in the constitutional hierarchy, above it.
Eleven nations, not one story
Minnesota is home to eleven federally recognized tribal nations — seven Ojibwe (Anishinaabe) and four Dakota. The Ojibwe: Bois Forte, Fond du Lac, Grand Portage, Leech Lake, Mille Lacs, White Earth, and Red Lake. The Dakota: Lower Sioux, Prairie Island, Shakopee Mdewakanton, and Upper Sioux. They are not a bloc; they are distinct governments with distinct histories.
Red Lake stands apart even among sovereigns. It is the only fully "closed" reservation in the United States — its land is held in common by the whole nation, never allotted to individuals. Red Lake resisted the federal allotment policy that broke up most reservations, rejected the standard federal reorganization in 1934, kept its hereditary chiefs, and was the first tribe to issue its own license plates. When people say tribal sovereignty is "inherent" rather than granted, Red Lake is the clearest living proof.
What sovereignty actually looks like in practice
Gaming. The tribal nations run Minnesota's casino economy, and the Shakopee Mdewakanton community's Mystic Lake is one of the largest employers in Scott County. The community has become the single largest philanthropic benefactor to Indian Country in the nation and has lent hundreds of millions of dollars to other tribes. Minnesota's gaming compacts are notably favorable to the tribes compared with many states — a recognition, not a gift.
Cannabis — the clearest recent demonstration. When Minnesota legalized adult-use cannabis in 2023, the tribes didn't wait for the state's slow, litigation-tangled rollout that the cannabis article in this series documented. Red Lake and White Earth opened the first legal dispensaries in Minnesota in August 2023 — roughly two years ahead of the state-licensed market. And here's the sovereignty point, verified in Minnesota statute (§ 3.9224): the state cannot require the tribes to waive their immunity, pay state cannabis taxes, or share revenue as a condition of a cannabis agreement. The tribes regulate their own cannabis on their own terms. While the state was still stuck, the nations were already operating.
Treaty rights — the deepest layer. In 1999 the U.S. Supreme Court, in Minnesota v. Mille Lacs Band, upheld the Ojibwe's off-reservation hunting, fishing, and gathering rights under the 1837 treaty — rights the state had tried to argue away. Those are living rights, not history: five Ojibwe bands intervened in the Line 3 pipeline fight on the basis of treaty-protected wild rice, manoomin, central to Ojibwe life and law.
Why it legally outranks the state
Here's the part that a states'-rights argument has to reckon with honestly. In the American constitutional structure, tribes are what the Supreme Court in 1831 called "domestic dependent nations," and in 1832, in Worcester v. Georgia, the Court held that state law "can have no force" within Indian country. Tribal sovereignty is inherent — it doesn't flow from the state or even, originally, from the federal government; it predates both. A state cannot simply extend its laws over a tribal nation the way it governs a city or a county.
That's why this belongs in a series about Minnesota self-government. If you believe power should sit close to the people and that a distant government shouldn't override a community's own decisions, tribal sovereignty is that principle in its purest and oldest form — and it deserves to be defended on exactly the grounds a states'-rights advocate claims to hold.
The relationship is actually improving
Minnesota's recent record here is, refreshingly, a good-news story. In 2019 the state adopted a formal tribal-consultation policy (Executive Order 19-24) requiring some two dozen state agencies to consult with the tribes and adopt consultation policies. And in a genuinely historic move, Minnesota returned the Upper Sioux Agency State Park — about 1,300 acres — to the Upper Sioux Community in 2024, land that includes the site of the 1862 starvation and war that devastated the Dakota. Returning parkland to a tribe is not symbolic; it's sovereignty and justice made concrete. On the federal side, the Supreme Court's 2023 decision in Haaland v. Brackeen upheld the Indian Child Welfare Act, protecting the ability of tribal nations to keep their children within their communities — a protection Minnesota reinforces in its own law.
What we can do
Honor consultation as a floor, not a ceiling. The 2019 policy is a start; the standard should be genuine, early, meaningful consultation on any state action affecting tribal nations — treaty rights, water, land, and resources included — not a box checked after the decision is made.
Respect the cannabis and gaming compacts as the sovereignty they represent. As the state expands gambling and cannabis, the tribes' first-mover position and compact rights are legal entitlements, not bargaining chips to be eroded. A state that believes in self-government keeps its agreements.
Protect treaty rights actively. Mille Lacs settled the law; the work now is honoring it — on manoomin, on water, on the resources treaties reserved. When a state action threatens a treaty right, the state should be the treaty's defender, not its adversary.
And continue the land-back work. The Upper Sioux Agency return should be a beginning. Where the state holds land of deep significance to a nation, returning it is one of the most meaningful acts of justice available.
I'll be plain about the frame, because it matters. A campaign that invokes states' rights while ignoring tribal sovereignty is being selective about which self-government it respects. The eleven nations within Minnesota are the oldest sovereigns here, they've exercised that sovereignty ahead of the state on cannabis and defended it up to the Supreme Court on treaty rights, and the principle that protects them is the same one that protects Minnesota from federal overreach. You don't get to believe in one and not the other.
First the facts. Then the fix.
Sources
The eleven federally recognized tribal nations in Minnesota (seven Ojibwe — Bois Forte, Fond du Lac, Grand Portage, Leech Lake, Mille Lacs, White Earth, Red Lake — and four Dakota — Lower Sioux, Prairie Island, Shakopee Mdewakanton, Upper Sioux), per the Minnesota Indian Affairs Council; Red Lake's status as the only fully closed/unallotted reservation, its rejection of allotment and of the 1934 reorganization, its hereditary-chief governance, and its 2020 population and land base. Gaming: the Shakopee Mdewakanton Community's Mystic Lake as a leading Scott County employer, its national philanthropy to Indian Country, and its lending to other tribes (specific dollar and revenue figures were flagged for verification and are described in general terms). Cannabis: adult-use legalization effective August 1, 2023; Minn. Stat. § 3.9224 (2023 Minn. Laws ch. 63), verified against raw text at revisor.mn.gov, providing that the state may not require tribes to waive immunity, pay state cannabis taxes, or share revenue as a compact condition; Red Lake (NativeCare) and White Earth opening the first legal dispensaries in Minnesota in August 2023, ahead of the state-licensed market, cross-referenced to this series' cannabis article. Treaty rights: Minnesota v. Mille Lacs Band, 526 U.S. 172 (1999), upholding 1837-treaty off-reservation hunting, fishing, and gathering rights; the intervention of five Ojibwe bands in the Line 3 matter on manoomin/treaty grounds. Constitutional status: Cherokee Nation v. Georgia (1831), "domestic dependent nations," and Worcester v. Georgia (1832), holding state law has "no force" in Indian country. State-tribal relations: Executive Order 19-24 (signed April 4, 2019), requiring state-agency tribal consultation; the 2024 return of the roughly 1,300-acre Upper Sioux Agency State Park to the Upper Sioux Community; and Haaland v. Brackeen, 599 U.S. 255 (2023), upholding the Indian Child Welfare Act.
Exact dispensary opening dates, the Minnesota tribal-gaming industry's total dollar value and the no-revenue-sharing rule for gaming compacts specifically, the White Earth manoomin-rights litigation, and post-Brackeen amendments to the Minnesota Indian Family Preservation Act were flagged for verification and are not stated as specific figures. Supreme Court citations state well-established holdings. Corrections: campaign@madgettformn.com.