Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz appointed former Hennepin County Judge Peter Cahill, the judge who presided over every prosecution stemming from the death of George Floyd, to a newly created state council, a move that former Minneapolis police officer Tou Thao says amounts to a political reward for advancing a predetermined narrative.

Thao, who spent more than three years in prison after his conviction in connection with Floyd's death, made the accusation during an interview with Alpha News reporter Liz Collin on her podcast. He did not hold back about what he believes the appointment signals.

Newsmax reported that the council is tasked with documenting "the truth" of Operation Metro Surge. Walz created the body shortly after the premiere of Alpha News' documentary "Minnesota Mao" and just days after Minneapolis Police Chief Brian O'Hara announced his resignation. Neither Walz nor Cahill has been quoted responding to Thao's claims.

Thao's accusation: a judge rewarded for a foregone conclusion

Thao told Collin that Cahill's appointment raises serious questions about the new council's objectivity. His central charge is that Cahill had already made up his mind before the defense even presented its case, and that Walz is now paying him back.

"It certainly has the appearance of quid pro quo. I suppose with the governor leaving office, it makes sense for him to reward his puppets and those who are willing to do his bidding."

That is a serious allegation from a man who sat in Cahill's courtroom and then sat in a prison cell. Whether or not one accepts Thao's framing, the optics of the appointment are difficult for Walz to explain away. Cahill oversaw the most politically charged trials in Minnesota history, and now the governor who presided over the state's response to the Floyd unrest has handed that same judge a new government role.

Thao went further, arguing that Cahill's courtroom conduct foreshadowed exactly the kind of work Walz wants from him on the council.

"Cahill determined I was guilty before I even presented my case to him. So this is the person that Gov. Walz is appointing... perhaps he is the perfect person to implement a predetermined narrative to meet a judgment that Walz wants."

The Floyd case and what the video showed

On May 25, 2020, George Floyd was arrested outside Cup Foods in south Minneapolis. Four officers, Derek Chauvin, Alex Kueng, Thomas Lane, and Thao, were ultimately convicted in connection with Floyd's death. Cahill presided over those prosecutions.

Video evidence from the incident showed Thao standing in the street, keeping onlookers back, while Chauvin and two other officers remained with Floyd as they awaited an ambulance. Thao called for an EMS ambulance "code three" shortly after Floyd was removed from a police squad car.

Thao served nearly nine years with the Minneapolis Police Department before the arrest that ended his career and sent him to prison. He was released in November 2025 and remains on supervised release.

None of that exonerates him. But his account of the judicial process, combined with the governor's subsequent appointment, raises a straightforward question: Was Cahill's courtroom conduct influenced by political pressure? And does this appointment create the appearance that it was?

Body cameras and the fight over transparency

Thao also addressed what he described as a deliberate effort to control the public narrative around the Floyd case from the start. He told Collin that the officers wanted body camera footage released immediately.

"One of the things we wanted to happen was to release the body cameras as soon as possible just to show what true transparency is. We didn't have anything to hide. So for them to not show body cameras is really an indictment on what they were trying to do behind the scenes."

The claim is worth weighing carefully. If the officers' own body camera footage supported their account, the delay in releasing it served no one's interest except those who preferred the public to see only bystander video and draw conclusions from that alone. Transparency is supposed to cut both ways.

Thao framed the broader pattern in stark ideological terms, telling Collin he wanted to expose what he called "communist, Marxist tactics" used against the officers. He argued that if officials were willing to deploy those tactics against police, ordinary citizens should expect the same treatment.

"I want to expose and give the truth because what they want is to smother the truth. And I think we can kind of see that in the last eight years in the Walz administration."

That language will strike some as overheated. But the underlying concern, that the Walz administration has prioritized narrative management over honest fact-finding, is not easily dismissed when the governor's own appointments keep reinforcing the pattern.

A council built to confirm, not to question

The newly created state council's stated mission is to document "the truth" of Operation Metro Surge. The official name, full membership, and precise mandate of the body remain unclear. What is clear is who Walz chose to put on it.

Appointing the judge who presided over the Floyd prosecutions to a body tasked with establishing "the truth" of a related law enforcement operation is not a move designed to inspire confidence in impartiality. It is a move designed to produce a specific conclusion. Minnesota under Walz has faced recurring questions about institutional accountability, and this appointment does nothing to quiet them.

Thao put it bluntly, saying the people behind the council "wouldn't know the truth if it hit them in the face."

The timing compounds the problem. Minneapolis Police Chief Brian O'Hara announced his resignation days before Cahill's appointment. The Alpha News documentary "Minnesota Mao" had just premiered. Walz appears to be shoring up the official version of events at the very moment new scrutiny is arriving.

The bigger pattern

This is not an isolated episode. Across the country, officials who presided over the most divisive moments of 2020 have been promoted, not questioned. The institutional incentive is plain: align with the approved narrative, and your career advances. Push back, and you lose your badge, your freedom, or both.

Thao's case is a vivid illustration. He stood in the street. He called for an ambulance. He went to prison. The judge who oversaw his conviction now sits on a governor-appointed council tasked with telling the public what really happened. The pattern of Democratic officials rewarding political loyalty over impartial governance is familiar to anyone paying attention.

No statement from Walz or Cahill responding to Thao's allegations has surfaced. The governor's office has not explained why Cahill, of all the judges and officials in Minnesota, was the right choice for a body whose stated purpose is uncovering truth.

Maybe there is a good explanation. But when the appointment looks like a reward, walks like a reward, and the man who sat in the defendant's chair calls it a reward, the burden of proof belongs to the people who made the decision.

If you have to create a council to establish "the truth," the truth probably isn't what you're after.