Somali Americans Aren’t Going Anywhere
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Society
/ February 10, 2026
Somali Americans Aren’t Going Anywhere
Trump keeps targeting Minnesota’s Somali community. But as one organizer says, “What we’ve built here, we’re not going to let it be easy for people to take that away from us.”
Iliana Hagenah
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ICE watchers Mustafa Mohamed (L) and Mahad Ahmed patrol their community around the Riverside Plaza complex in the Cedar-Riverside neighborhood on January 9, 2026 in Minneapolis, Minnesota.
(Joshua Lott / The Washington Post via Getty Images)
After weeks of scrolling through a dizzying flood of anti-Somali hate online, Hamza turned his phone on himself. It was December 3, 2025, and the 22-year-old Somali American was parked in his car on his way to work. He had just seen a clip of Donald Trump saying Somalis had “destroyed” the state of Minnesota. With his seat belt still on, he pressed record.
“Yo, Minnesota was promised to Somalis 3,000 years ago,” Hamza (who requested to be identified only by his first name for this piece to protect his identity) said in the video. “And if you read Genesis 12:3, it says those who bless Somalis will be blessed.”
He posted the video and carried on with his day. By the next day, it had gone viral.
Somalis in Minnesota remixed the joke in their own ways—filming themselves in the snow and building ornate skits around the concept. By parodying the idea—so often used to justify state violence against colonized communities, like Palestine—that land can be “promised” to a specific group, the joke resonated across many diasporas.
“It was like, what can we even do?” Hamza tells me over the phone. “They’re using us as a scapegoat, trying to turn us into the most hated group in America.”
Current Issue
March 2026 Issue
In hours, Hamza saw the power of the Somali community, diaspora, and solidarity networks in action. In the two months since then, as ICE’s deadly and brutal invasion of Minnesota has intensified, Somali communities have relied on this vibrant network more than ever. It’s a reflex that has guided them since their arrival.
In Minneapolis’s Cedar-Riverside neighborhood, often called “Little Mogadishu,” many streets these days are marked by an unusual quiet punctuated by moments of chaos. The area is home to the largest Somali population in the United States. In recent weeks, the world has seen what residents describe as an overwhelming amount of immigration enforcement, along with a parallel flood of right-wing agitators.
Behind the scenes, community patrols and rapid-response networks remain active. Volunteers coordinate to warn residents about nearby enforcement activity and help people access legal …
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Current Issue
Society
/ February 10, 2026
Somali Americans Aren’t Going Anywhere
Trump keeps targeting Minnesota’s Somali community. But as one organizer says, “What we’ve built here, we’re not going to let it be easy for people to take that away from us.”
Iliana Hagenah
Share
Copy Link
X (Twitter)
Bluesky Pocket
Ad Policy
ICE watchers Mustafa Mohamed (L) and Mahad Ahmed patrol their community around the Riverside Plaza complex in the Cedar-Riverside neighborhood on January 9, 2026 in Minneapolis, Minnesota.
(Joshua Lott / The Washington Post via Getty Images)
After weeks of scrolling through a dizzying flood of anti-Somali hate online, Hamza turned his phone on himself. It was December 3, 2025, and the 22-year-old Somali American was parked in his car on his way to work. He had just seen a clip of Donald Trump saying Somalis had “destroyed” the state of Minnesota. With his seat belt still on, he pressed record.
“Yo, Minnesota was promised to Somalis 3,000 years ago,” Hamza (who requested to be identified only by his first name for this piece to protect his identity) said in the video. “And if you read Genesis 12:3, it says those who bless Somalis will be blessed.”
He posted the video and carried on with his day. By the next day, it had gone viral.
Somalis in Minnesota remixed the joke in their own ways—filming themselves in the snow and building ornate skits around the concept. By parodying the idea—so often used to justify state violence against colonized communities, like Palestine—that land can be “promised” to a specific group, the joke resonated across many diasporas.
“It was like, what can we even do?” Hamza tells me over the phone. “They’re using us as a scapegoat, trying to turn us into the most hated group in America.”
Current Issue
March 2026 Issue
In hours, Hamza saw the power of the Somali community, diaspora, and solidarity networks in action. In the two months since then, as ICE’s deadly and brutal invasion of Minnesota has intensified, Somali communities have relied on this vibrant network more than ever. It’s a reflex that has guided them since their arrival.
In Minneapolis’s Cedar-Riverside neighborhood, often called “Little Mogadishu,” many streets these days are marked by an unusual quiet punctuated by moments of chaos. The area is home to the largest Somali population in the United States. In recent weeks, the world has seen what residents describe as an overwhelming amount of immigration enforcement, along with a parallel flood of right-wing agitators.
Behind the scenes, community patrols and rapid-response networks remain active. Volunteers coordinate to warn residents about nearby enforcement activity and help people access legal …
Somali Americans Aren’t Going Anywhere
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Current Issue
Society
/ February 10, 2026
Somali Americans Aren’t Going Anywhere
Trump keeps targeting Minnesota’s Somali community. But as one organizer says, “What we’ve built here, we’re not going to let it be easy for people to take that away from us.”
Iliana Hagenah
Share
Copy Link
Facebook
X (Twitter)
Bluesky Pocket
Email
Ad Policy
ICE watchers Mustafa Mohamed (L) and Mahad Ahmed patrol their community around the Riverside Plaza complex in the Cedar-Riverside neighborhood on January 9, 2026 in Minneapolis, Minnesota.
(Joshua Lott / The Washington Post via Getty Images)
After weeks of scrolling through a dizzying flood of anti-Somali hate online, Hamza turned his phone on himself. It was December 3, 2025, and the 22-year-old Somali American was parked in his car on his way to work. He had just seen a clip of Donald Trump saying Somalis had “destroyed” the state of Minnesota. With his seat belt still on, he pressed record.
“Yo, Minnesota was promised to Somalis 3,000 years ago,” Hamza (who requested to be identified only by his first name for this piece to protect his identity) said in the video. “And if you read Genesis 12:3, it says those who bless Somalis will be blessed.”
He posted the video and carried on with his day. By the next day, it had gone viral.
Somalis in Minnesota remixed the joke in their own ways—filming themselves in the snow and building ornate skits around the concept. By parodying the idea—so often used to justify state violence against colonized communities, like Palestine—that land can be “promised” to a specific group, the joke resonated across many diasporas.
“It was like, what can we even do?” Hamza tells me over the phone. “They’re using us as a scapegoat, trying to turn us into the most hated group in America.”
Current Issue
March 2026 Issue
In hours, Hamza saw the power of the Somali community, diaspora, and solidarity networks in action. In the two months since then, as ICE’s deadly and brutal invasion of Minnesota has intensified, Somali communities have relied on this vibrant network more than ever. It’s a reflex that has guided them since their arrival.
In Minneapolis’s Cedar-Riverside neighborhood, often called “Little Mogadishu,” many streets these days are marked by an unusual quiet punctuated by moments of chaos. The area is home to the largest Somali population in the United States. In recent weeks, the world has seen what residents describe as an overwhelming amount of immigration enforcement, along with a parallel flood of right-wing agitators.
Behind the scenes, community patrols and rapid-response networks remain active. Volunteers coordinate to warn residents about nearby enforcement activity and help people access legal …
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