Frogs Instead of Torches - Portland’s Gentlest Rebellion Since ICE Existed

There are nights when history takes a grotesque turn - and in this case, it takes the shape of frogs. While Washington argues about "uprisings" and "national security," the parking lot in front of the ICE building in South Portland turned Thursday into an amphitheater of peaceful protest and unintentional symbolism. Dozens of people, some dressed as frogs, others as unicorns or polar bears, gathered in the cool autumn night - and turned a place of repression into a moment of absurdity, hope, and quiet irony.

The legal situation remains serious, though the tone of the story feels strangely light. The Court of Appeals is expected to issue its decision before October 17 - the day a new hearing will decide whether Judge Immergut’s order will be extended for another fourteen days. Until then, the judicial halt on the National Guard deployments remains fully in force. Two Trump-appointed judges suggested Thursday that they might lift the ban, while an older Clinton appointee stood firm on the ground of the rule of law. It is about the definition of rebellion, about history, power - and about the question of whether what is happening in front of the ICE building is a threat to the nation or simply a form of civic self-assertion in rubber boots.

In truth, Portland is not under siege but caught in a kind of surreal calm. That is also confirmed by a simple fact check that dismantles Trump’s latest “Antifa Roundtable” spectacle. The conclusion: Portland is not on fire. Since June, exactly four small fires have been reported near the ICE building - and the last explosion of an explosive device in the region occurred in 2008. No war, no chaos - just a president who loves drama. The often-repeated claim of “exploding crime” also fails under scrutiny: the number of serious violent crimes in 2025 has dropped significantly, with the homicide rate in the first half of the year more than fifty percent lower than the year before. Property crimes remain a problem, but they do not mark a security crisis.

Instead, there are frogs. And an axolotl. And a peacock, a raccoon, a shark, and a cat standing side by side with about a hundred other demonstrators. Some blew soap bubbles along the blue line marking the ICE compound, others held signs reading “End ICE reign of terror.” A Buddhist priest offered prayers while a helicopter circled above and federal officers stood for hours on the building’s rooftop, handling pepperball guns - apparently less to use them than to intimidate.

But this time it stayed calm. The officers wore no clear shields, many no masks, and they even gave warnings before stepping outside - a small sign of progress in the relationship between state and citizen, one that could almost be called polite. Three people were arrested, including a counter-protester and a well-known right-wing live streamer who, according to a court order, should not have been anywhere near the building. Thomas Allen, 36, was taken away, as was a Portland man arrested for harassment. Afterward, calm returned. Cars passed by, dogs were walked, frog masks fogged with breath.

Around half past ten, the priest offered the final prayer. The city’s sounds returned - the hum of streetlights, the distant whistle of a train, the dripping of the night. An evening without batons, without chaos, without heroes. Only frogs, quietly standing in the neon light, creating an image stronger than any political slogan - that resistance sometimes smiles, breathes softly, and still endures. While in Washington Trump’s lawyers continue to philosophize about the definition of rebellion, Portland simply had a quiet evening.