Inside the 'Political Thunderstorm': Trump's Targeting of Somali Communities
Distressing scenes continue to unfold on the streets of Minneapolis, as confrontations between US Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) and protesters intensify. Behind the headlines, communities in the US and beyond are experiencing a generationally traumatic moment. This article draws on insights from Somali experts and activists across the diaspora, including in Mogadishu and Minnesota, which hosts the largest Somali community in the US. The picture that emerges is one of profound anxiety, yet also a solid resolve to withstand these pressures.
A Convenient Target for Populist Narratives
For almost all of his second term, Donald Trump has been fixated on Somali Americans, making derogatory comments about both them and Somalia. He uses these opinions to justify anti-immigration policies, particularly in Minnesota, a state home to over 100,000 people of Somali descent. Trump appears particularly exercised by Minnesota congresswoman Ilhan Omar, who is of Somali origin and has exchanged barbs with him, leading to retaliatory actions against her entire demographic. So deep is his animosity that when Omar was recently attacked with an unknown substance, Trump dismissed her as a fraud who "probably had herself sprayed."
According to Professor Idil Abdi Osman at Leicester University, the broad reason for targeting the Somali community is convenience. She describes the shift towards the right in Europe and the US as a "political thunderstorm" that Somalis have become absorbed in because "they become an embodiment of the kind of communities that Trump can easily target and use as a scapegoat – that is convenient for the populist narrative."
Intersecting Vulnerabilities and Global Reverberations
Somali ethnic and religious profiles intersect in ways that make them easy targets, as several sources noted. They are Black, Muslim, and immigrant, rendering them vulnerable to racism, Islamophobia, and anti-immigration sentiments. While the sharpest manifestations are occurring in the US, similar shades of this targeting are evident elsewhere in Europe, with reverberations across a tightly connected global diaspora.
A Uniquely Connected Diaspora
The Somali diaspora is exceptionally connected both practically and emotionally, driven by culture and geopolitics. The first large waves of immigration followed the start of the Somali civil war in the late 1980s, meaning this diaspora is rooted in forced migration rather than voluntary movement. Diasporas who left forcibly due to conflict "tend to have stronger connections with their homeland," Osman remarked, noting that some Somali migrants born outside the country speak better Somali than those in Somalia.
Another factor is the nature of Somali migration and family size. Settlement schemes in countries like the US offered limited spaces, leading large families to split, with some members moving to the US while others awaited application processing elsewhere. This has created vast global extended families. "We respond to all events, be they political or personal, through strong family networks and solidarities," said Jawaahir Daahir, founder of UK-based Somali Development Services. Her own family exemplifies this: "I have more than 30 members of my extended family in the US. If my brother is having trouble in Minnesota, I am feeling it here in the UK."
A Globally Worrying Moment with Intimate Impacts
Daahir highlighted that political and media discourse often overlooks the intimate impacts of heightened racism and anti-immigration sentiments on individuals. "We focus on politics or policy headlines, but how do these debates actually land in homes? For many, the current climate has created a sense of heightened concerns about safety, belonging, and discussions about whether we are seen as equal citizens. Young people are navigating schools and identity, and parents are worried about their children's safety and discrimination."
A Minnesota-based academic, who requested anonymity, explained the real generational impacts. Some parents fear sending their children to school, concerned they might be picked up by ICE, even when those children are American citizens—which the vast majority in Minnesota are. The repercussions on child development, inclusion, and socialisation are comparable to those sustained during the pandemic, compounded by existing trauma from families who once fled militarised threats.
Shock, Solidarity, and Civility in Response
Daahir noted that Somali-origin communities have histories of reckoning with far-right forces, anti-immigration hostility, and racism. What is new is how the state increasingly echoes the views and policies of self-organised groups like the English Defence League. Clamping down on immigration, family reunification, and increasing deportations are becoming commonplace in the EU, while in the US, "the rule of law" is beginning to feel unreliable.
However, she also observed how Somali communities excel in grassroots organising and extending solidarities. In Minnesota, they have been distributing food and pooling resources for others, which she finds "encouraging." This point was echoed by Osman, who highlighted that Somali community centres, such as one her mother set up in Leicester in the early 2000s, focus on settling new waves of immigrants, securing housing, and registering them for schools and GPs. These networks extend to other arrivals, like those from Iraq, with about 55% of those helped in such centres now from other communities.
Professor Abdi Samatar at the University of Minnesota noted that these solidarities are being matched and reciprocated. Minnesota, a locus of immigration legacies from the cold war era, has been "incredibly generous to all immigrants," facilitated by the US's decentralised policymaking structure that limits Washington's control over state policy. Immigrants were met with "opportunity and warmth" upon arrival. "It's very important to distinguish between central government and state and local governments," Samatar said, emphasising the persistent grassroots solidarities shown by Minnesotans to immigrants targeted by ICE.
"My hope," he concluded, "is that we will come back again to a world of civility and humanity." In the meantime, the global Somali diaspora braces for what may come next, fortified by tenacity and deep reserves of communal history and reinforcement.
