Witness or participant?

We have, thankfully, gone a few days without ugly headlines from Minneapolis, but they are not gone forever. The next chapter in Twin Cities saga will not unfold in the streets but in a courtroom. Scheduled for arraignment is dethroned media personality Don Lemon, charged in connection with a January disruption at a Minneapolis church.

A federal grand jury alleges that Lemon and others entered during worship as part of a coordinated protest dubbed “Operation Pullup,” positioning themselves among congregants before bringing the service to an abrupt halt. Prosecutors describe blocked aisles, shouted accusations — including calling congregants “Nazis” — frightened families, and a pastor surrounded in what some perceived as a threatening posture.

Those allegations will now move from headline to docket.

Of course, all arraignments are subject to continuance for good cause shown, yet the recent addition of former U.S. Attorney Joseph H. Thompson — who resigned in January in a dispute with Justice Department leadership over its handling of an ICE shooting investigation during the Trump administration — to the former CNN host’s defense team suggests preparation rather than retreat. The case appears poised to proceed.

Lemon’s public posture is that he was present as a journalist. That claim deserves careful consideration, not reflexive dismissal. The First Amendment does not belong to the agreeable. It protects speech and press alike, even when the underlying event is disorderly or violent. Reporters routinely cover protests that cross legal lines. Cameras often roll where arrests soon follow.

That said, a press credential does not place its holder above the law. It does not confer diplomatic immunity. Courts have long drawn a distinction between observing unlawful conduct and participating in it. The fulcrum of this case will not be what hung from a lanyard around anyone’s neck, but what that person actually did.

Was the former media figure objectively documenting a matter of public concern — filming, interviewing, narrating events as they unfolded? Or did he help organize, direct, encourage or materially assist the disruption? That is not a philosophical question. It is a factual one. The First Amendment protects news gathering. It does not shield conspiracy, trespass or intimidation if those elements are proved.

American history offers reminders that the line between protest and persuasion can be consequential. Images of fire hoses and German shepherds in Birmingham did more to change public opinion than a thousand pamphlets. Those scenes were powerful because they exposed official excess, not because they manufactured chaos. Henry David Thoreau, whose essay on civil disobedience is often invoked in moments like this, argued for principled resistance — and he accepted the penalty of the law as part of the moral equation. He did not claim exemption from it.

The modern media environment complicates that calculus. Livestreams blur the line between participant and narrator. A person can chant, record and broadcast in the same breath. That technological reality does not eliminate the constitutional boundary. It simply makes it harder to discern.

This case, then, is not merely about one protest in one church. It is about whether the press remains distinct from activism and whether that distinction is still important. It is. The credibility of journalism rests in part on the understanding that reporters witness events; they do not orchestrate them.

The courtroom, unlike the street, rewards precision. Evidence will be weighed. Motives will be tested. If Lemon were a journalist covering a volatile scene, the Constitution stands as his shield. If he crossed from observer to actor, that shield may not hold.

The nation does not benefit from weakening the First Amendment. Nor does it benefit from stretching it beyond recognition. Somewhere between those poles lies the line the court must now find.