Carson McCullough

BOISE, Idaho (CN) — The Pride flag has long fluttered in Boise, where it decorates storefront windows and lies draped from apartment balconies.

A safe haven for liberals in one of the reddest states in the country, Boise has for years flown this symbol of LGBTQ+ solidarity outside its city hall.

It’s that flag in particular — the one flying at Boise’s seat of local government — that has ignited a culture war in the Potato State over this famous symbol of gay acceptance. At stake, according to many in this left-leaning city, is Boise’s status as a place that’s safe and welcoming for all.

The dispute began on January 30, just 10 days into the second Trump administration. Republican lawmakers in the state introduced House Bill 96, barring local governments from flying flags beyond those on an officially sanctioned list.

On that list: a variety of state, local and military flags — but not the Pride banner. Passed by wide margins in the Republican-dominated legislature and signed into law by Republican Governor Brad Little in April, HB 96 went into effect immediately.

The bill makes no explicit reference to Pride, LGBTQ+ issues or even Boise. Still, for many in Idaho’s capital city, the aim of the law was clear.

“They did it as a direct stab to Boise, to make them take the flag down,” said Meda Thompson, creator of Boise Pride Pages, an online directory of LBGBTQ-friendly businesses.

Boise City Hall sits just down the street from the state capitol building. For the state’s MAGA lawmakers, that means regular commutes past an international symbol of diversity, equity and inclusion.

“When [legislators] would come to the capitol, they had to look at the Pride flag every day,” Thompson said in a phone interview. “They wanted to change our city laws because they didn’t like it.”

That’s when things got interesting, and the real flag fight began.

No stranger to disputes with state leaders, Boise quickly went to work on a loophole.

On May 6, city council voted 5-1 to make the Pride flag an official city banner. That theoretically made it legal to fly under HB 96. (The same resolution also deemed official the flag for Donate Life, a nonprofit that advocates for organ and tissue donation. Shockingly, that part of the resolution has not generated anywhere near as much buzz.)

Just one councilmember, Luci Willits, voted against the resolution. During and after the vote, Willits explained she dissented because she was wary of dragging Boise into a costly legal battle with the state.

The flag fight “will likely end up in court,” Willits said at the May 6 council meeting. “Like several city hall decisions, it will cost the taxpayers, and there won’t be an opportunity for compromise, and that makes me sad.”

Willits also said she didn’t believe adopting the Pride flag was in line with the will of Boise residents.

On this front, though, she seems to be wrong. In addition to being the only councilmember to vote against the resolution, the overwhelming majority of public comments prior to the meeting were in support of it. The city received 43 comments supporting the flag resolution, compared to just seven against, according to reporting by one local news station. (Courthouse News has reached out to Boise officials to confirm these numbers.) Willits did not respond to a request for comment for this story.

In Boise, ideological splits like this with the state are nothing new.

Still, it’s not a simple David and Goliath story of big bad state officials beating up on poor little Boise.

After all, Boise isn’t just a city: It’s both the state capital and the county seat of Ada County. The Boise metropolitan area is by far the most populous in Idaho, as well as a major part of Idaho’s economy.

In other words, Boise is a formidable actor in its own right, at least by Gem State standards. As Ross Burkhart, a professor of political science at Boise State University, puts it: “It takes two to tango.”

“Boise, historically speaking, has been in a battle with the state government since the inception of Idaho Territory," Burkhart wrote in an email. "The Great State of Ada" — a reference to Ada County — "is a phrase that has been uttered in a pejorative sense by those residing outside of Boise," he added. He argues the city has long "dominated political discussion, if not always political power” and that “the Pride flag is emblematic of the divide."

As for whether this everlasting struggle has left the people of Boise with any battle fatigue, Burkhart says old habits die hard. He noted that the city was used to clashing with the state on a range of issues, from affordable housing to climate change.

“I doubt there will be issue fatigue in general, as the city and state over the decades have often locked into conflict with one another,” he said. “Boiseans are likely used to it.” Idaho, in turn, must face a self-assured capital city that’s not afraid of making its own flag decisions. If anything, Burkhart said, “there are likely to be more flare-ups between the city and the state in the future.”

To date, the battle over Boise’s Pride flags has not yet escalated into a full-blown legal fight.

One might be brewing. In April, Idaho Attorney General Raúl Labrador, a Republican, penned a letter to Boise Mayor Lauren McLean, chastising her for “flying two flags in defiance of the law.” He warned that Boise could lose state funding and noted ominously that “some members of the public [are] calling for your arrest.”

“What if citizens of Boise acted as you have by refusing to follow the municipal laws?” Labrador wrote. “How do you ensure your citizens’ respect for the rule of law if you are not following the law yourself?”

McLean was undeterred. Days later, she responded with a letter of her own. She noted that HB 96 has no enforcement provisions to speak of and questioned whether the law was enforceable at all.

The bill, she argued, “was brought by a legislator hostile to Boise and was touted, specifically, as a vehicle to force the City of Boise to take down the Pride flag that has flown at City Hall for nearly 10 years.”

“As uncomfortable as it is to be threatened by you, the Attorney General, for standing with and for my community, I welcome the valuable public dialogue your threats have sparked,” she added. “Let me be clear; Boise isn’t acting out of defiance — we’re acting out of duty.”

Time will tell what will happen to Boise’s Pride flags and Labrador’s legal threats. But one thing seems clear: Officials and citizens in Idaho’s biggest city aren’t backing down from the fight.

Talk to Boiseans, in fact, and many seem to welcome the chance to reaffirm the city’s inclusive values. “You will not silence us,” declared Thompson, the Boise Pride Pages founder. “You are only making us greater.”

Other Boiseans who spoke to Courthouse News felt similarly, including those both inside and outside the LGBTQ+ community. Take Javier Smith, board member and treasurer of The Community Center, an LGBTQ+ nonprofit and community hub in the city.

For Smith, Boise’s handling of the Pride flag dispute wasn’t just welcome — it was reaffirming.

“When Boise City adopted the Pride flag as an official city flag, it was a ray of light in an otherwise dreary, cloudy life that shows that people in power have our back,” he said. “They are willing to do what is right in the face of opposition and let us know that they value us as part of their community.” As a result, he said, gay Boiseans would be “less inclined to move to more accepting communities [or] hide in fear” and more motivated “to stay here and help do the work to create a more inclusive, more accepting and better life for all Idahoans.”

Or, take Samantha Green, owner of Boise flower shop Wayward Greens. While not a member of the LGBTQ+ community herself, she said she considers herself an ally and was glad to speak up in support of the city’s Pride flag.

“Boise adopting the Pride Flag as an official city flag fills me with hope and pride for my community,” Green said. “I want to live in a place that values belonging and inclusion, rather than one that tolerates bigotry, bullying, and discrimination.” The flag fight, she said, sent a clear and important message: “The LGBTQ+ community is accepted and safe here.”