Minding the store

Minnesota has become a strange political paradox.

It long enjoyed a reputation for clean government. Yet in recent years, Minnesota has become known for fraud.

The most notorious scandal was Feeding Our Future, in which prosecutors say hundreds of millions of dollars intended to feed low-­income children was diverted through a sprawling network of fraudulent meal sites. But it didn’t stop there. Investigators later uncovered alleged fraud involving housing assistance, autism therapy, and other social-service programs. Federal prosecutors now say losses may reach into the billions.

The scandal grew so large that Gov. Tim Walz abandoned his bid for a third term, saying he needed to devote himself fully to combating fraud. But the question hanging over Minnesota politics is not what happens next. It is what happened before. How did a state with a clean reputation allow fraud on such a scale to flourish in the first place?

Where was the leadership?

That question sits at the center of Kendall Qualls’ ­campaign for governor.

At their convention at the end of May, Minnesota Republicans endorsed Qualls for governor. Although he still faces an August primary, his argument deserves attention beyond the outcome of a single campaign.

He believes Minnesota’s problem is not fundamentally ideological. It is managerial. Moral. Cultural.

“It is a lack of leadership and a lack of moral leadership,” he told me. “I think the people are disgusted with the political class, and they want something different.”

Qualls is an unusual messenger. He’s already the first black candidate to win a major-party endorsement for governor in Minnesota. If elected, he would become the state’s first black governor. Yet race is rarely the first thing he talks about. He presents himself as a political outsider—an Army veteran, business executive, and Christian layman who entered politics after a successful private-sector career.

His entry into public life was not planned.

In 2020, he heard U.S. Rep. Ilhan Omar, D-Minn., describe America as systemically racist and capitalism as a system that primarily benefited white people. “That was my tipping point to get involved in politics,” he said. “Have never been in politics, never held public office.”

After leaving active duty, he and his wife became Christians as adults, and that faith was tested years later when a devastating automobile accident nearly killed both Qualls and his daughter. “She had to relearn to walk, talk, everything,” he said.

Yet when he tells the story, he spends more time describing what happened afterward than the accident itself. Members of his church remained at the hospital around the clock.

“They stayed around her for days, 24/7,” he recalled. “They said prayers with her. They sang songs with her.”

What struck him most was the reaction of relatives who had never witnessed such a Christian community.

“They had no idea that these white people would do the things that they did for us,” he said. “They saw true Christian brotherhood right there at a catastrophe.”

That experience helps explain why he views politics through a moral lens.

Even when discussing Minnesota’s fraud scandals, he repeatedly returns to questions of character and accountability.

“In the private sector, we call it embezzlement,” he said. “If there’s a leaky bucket, by the second or third quarter, we’ve done an investigation. We know who’s done it. They’re fired. They’re being charged. It doesn’t take eight to 10 years.”

Near the end of our conversation, Qualls cited Joshua’s command to be strong and courageous and the Psalmist’s declaration that some trust in horses and chariots, but believers trust in the name of the Lord.

“Either you believe these things, or you don’t,” he said.

Then he summarized his campaign in a single sentence:

“We’re on a rescue mission to save Minnesota.”

That phrase may sound dramatic. Yet when fraud becomes a defining political issue, when a governor abandons reelection to focus on it, and when voters begin questioning whether anyone is minding the store, the campaign’s stakes become hard to miss. Perhaps “rescue mission” is exactly how many Minnesotans now see the task before them.