Dec. 6, 2025Updated Dec. 7, 2025, 12:10 p.m. ET
ST. CLOUD, MN ‒ The day after President Donald Trump called Somali immigrants in Minnesota “garbage,” more than 100 residents and elected officials gathered at a library to reassure their Somali neighbors they were still welcomed in St. Cloud, a regional hub roughly an hour drive north of Minneapolis.
Farhiya Iman was among them. Iman, 36, was born in Somalia and now calls St. Cloud home. The social worker and married mother of two told the St. Cloud Times, part of the USA TODAY Network, that the city made her who she is today.
Even amid tensions, she knows there are people there who will support her.
Still, Iman said, anti-Somali hate has found a home in central Minnesota, lurking in the comment sections of news articles and on social media. Racial and religious tensions have sometimes boiled over into violent threats, vandalism and efforts to stop refugee resettlement.
“[It’s] really comforting to know that we have allies that are checking on us,” Iman said. “But there’s also quite a few that have the same thinking as the president.”
Fear and anxiety among the nation’s largest Somali population in Minnesota reached new heights after Trump’s comments, in which he pointed to a massive fraud investigation. Some advocates say that investigation is being used as an excuse to target the entire community.
The controversy comes amid big changes in immigration enforcement. Trump has threatened to end the Temporary Protected Status (TPS) program for Somali refugees in Minnesota, and the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services has halted all immigration applications from Somalia and 18 other countries in the wake of an attack on two National Guard members in Washington, DC. The shooting suspect is an Afghan national.
Though the attacks and rhetoric aren’t new, Somali Minnesotans say the pressure mounting on the community is worse than ever.
“It’s a different temperature now,” said Ahmed Samatar, a professor at Macalester College in St. Paul, who is a Somali expert. “It’s quite ferocious. And really quite intimidating for people.”
Pressure mounts on deeply rooted Somali community in Minnesota
Minnesota is the state with the largest population of people with Somali ancestry, according to the Census Bureau. The population is estimated to be between 60,000 and 80,000.
It’s a hub that has grown since many arrived amid the country’s civil war and famine dating to the early 1990s. The state was an attractive location in part because of its success resettling Hmong refugees in the 1970s and 1980s, the Star Tribune reported.
A community formed in Minnesota as new arrivals joined relatives who had been assigned to be resettled in a place many found welcoming. Under the U.S. Refugee Admissions Program, now largely curtailed by Trump, refugees are resettled in various cities across the country by local affiliate agencies but are free to move to be closer to relatives or friends.
Today, many are U.S. citizens, permanent residents and second-generation residents who never knew life in Somalia, Samatar said. They include police officers, doctors, academics and businesspeople, and more have become involved in politics.
Trump criticized Somali immigrants in Minnesota when he first ran for president in 2016, saying they were “joining ISIS and spreading their extremist views,” the Guardian reported. His comments came after three Somali Americans were found guilty of trying to join the terror group and the Islamic State took credit for a knife attack at a Minnesota mall.
Trump has also frequently criticized the community’s most high-profile elected official – U.S. Rep. Ilhan Omar, D-Minnesota. Shortly after Trump began his first term, his rhetoric trickled down into local politics.
In 2017, former St. Cloud City Council member Jeff Johnson proposed a moratorium to temporarily halt refugee resettlement in the city. The proposal failed but garnered national attention.
Trump said he wanted to terminate temporary deportation protections for Somalis living in Minnesota because “Somali gangs” were terrorizing the state, without offering evidence or details. There were about 430 recipients of that status in Minnesota in 2023, according to the Immigrant Law Center of Minnesota.
The Trump administration also vowed to review green cards from the 19 countries following the Washington shooting.
During a recent Cabinet meeting, Trump ratcheted up his rhetoric about Somalis, saying they had contributed nothing to the United States.
“I don’t want them in our country, I’ll be honest with you,” Trump said. “Their country is no good for a reason. Their country stinks.”
Trump’s comments closing out his Dec. 2 Cabinet meeting came after reports that dozens of Somali immigrants had been charged with fraud for allegedly stealing $1 billion from Minnesota programs such as COVID-19 pandemic relief.
Minnesota leaders support Somali community
Trump’s comments brought out local officials to defend the larger community, saying Somalis have been an economic and cultural boon to the area.
“Minneapolis is proud to be home to the largest Somali community in the country,” Mayor Jacob Frey said at a news conference. “They are our neighbors, our friends, and our family – and they are welcome in our city. Nothing Donald Trump does will ever change that.”
Leaders in the state have a history of countering Trump’s moves on immigration.
When Trump signed an executive order in 2019 allowing state and local governments more power to reject incoming refugees, Democratic Gov. Tim Walz approved continued resettlements. Walz, who Trump has called “grossly incompetent,” also expanded upon policies that made the state attractive to refugees and approved programs providing driver’s licenses, free college tuition and health insurance to undocumented immigrants.
On Dec. 2, Walz welcomed support investigating and prosecuting crime on social media but said “indiscriminately targeting immigrants is not a real solution to a problem.”
Meanwhile, advocates and Somalis say they are feeling the effects of politicians’ words. For Suleiman Adan, who is a second-generation Somali American, the recent attacks have felt “inescapable.”
“The pressure is worse than ever. I think we’re past escalation,” said Adan, deputy director of the Minnesota chapter of the Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR-MN). “I think the volcano has erupted.”
That pressure comes amid high-profile fraud cases involving some Somali residents. The scope has been difficult for many in the community, said Samatar, the Macalester College professor.
“In a state that has treated Somalis with enormous graciousness and generosity and respect and help, that’s painful,” he told USA TODAY.
Fraud cases sow more distrust
Trump and other elected officials, like U.S. House Majority Whip Tom Emmer, R-Minnesota, have sought to associate the Somali community with fraud, pointing to a series of criminal cases.
Since 2022, federal prosecutors have charged 78 people for their suspected roles in a $250 million fraud scheme involving federal nutrition aid.
The scheme was tied to the U.S. Department of Agriculture’s Federal Child Nutrition Program, which provides meals to children in need. The program, which expanded during the COVID-19 pandemic, allowed wider food distribution sites if sponsored by a nonprofit.
Prosecutors say the Minnesota nonprofit Feeding Our Future and its partners operated sham sponsor distribution sites, claiming to have helped distribute millions of meals while spending money on items including luxury cars, houses, jewelry and resort property abroad.
The case drew further attention in 2024 when five people were charged with conspiring to bribe a juror with a bag of $120,000. Several dozen have pleaded guilty or been convicted, according to news reports.
In another case, eight defendants were charged in September in what prosecutors said was a fraud scheme involving Housing Stabilization Services, a program designed to help people with disabilities, mental illnesses or substance use disorders.
Prosecutors say some providers acquired the names of eligible beneficiaries from facilities like addiction treatment centers and then used their information to submit inflated and fake reimbursement claims. The program, which cost $21 million in its first year in 2021, ballooned to $104 million in 2024.
“What we see are schemes stacked upon schemes, draining resources meant for those in need. It feels never ending. I have spent my career as a fraud prosecutor and the depth of the fraud in Minnesota takes my breath away,” Acting U.S. Attorney Joseph Thompson said in a statement.
In a third case, prosecutors in September charged Asha Farhan Hassan, 28, in connection with a $14 million fraud scheme involving therapy for autistic children. Prosecutors alleged that providers recruited children from parents in the Somali community, paying kickbacks, and submitted reimbursements that were inflated or fraudulent.
The New York Times, citing prosecutors, reported that all but eight of the 86 people charged in those three cases involving meals, housing and autism therapy were of Somali ancestry, with a vast majority being U.S. citizens by birth or naturalization. Federal prosecutors did not respond to USA TODAY’s request for those figures.
The U.S. Treasury Department is also investigating allegations that tax dollars from Minnesota may have been diverted to the Al-Shabaab militant group in Somalia, Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent said Dec. 1.
That followed Trump calling Minnesota a “hub of fraudulent money laundering activity” under Walz, an apparent response to unverified media reports shared by several Republican lawmakers that Al-Shabaab had benefited from fraud committed in Minnesota. The Star-Tribune reported that there was scant evidence to substantiate it.
Walz has faced fierce criticism over the fraud schemes, and the state has since worked to strengthen oversight.
Kayseh Magan, a Somali American who formerly worked as a fraud investigator for the Minnesota attorney general’s office, wrote in an opinion column last year that Minnesota’s public programs were more geared to flag recipient fraud instead of organized provider fraud.
But he added that fraudsters, many of whom came from his own community, also sought to exploit the “feckless fear that establishment politicians and state agencies show when confronted with charges of racism or Islamophobia.”
In court filings, Feeding Our Future accused the state’s Department of Education of discriminating against the organization because it served minority communities, and the threat of legal consequences and negative media attention affected state officials’ decisions about taking regulatory actions against Feeding Our Future, according to a report from Minnesota’s legislative auditor.
The fraud allegations have had a far-reaching impact, according to Sara Greenberg-Hassan, executive director of Feeding Area Children Together. The St. Cloud organization is supported in part by people of Somali heritage who volunteer and have a place on the nonprofit’s board. Greenberg-Hassan said a member of FACT’s board tried to resign amid the Feeding Our Future scandal.
“As a Somali man, he was afraid people would lose trust in our organization because (of) their own prejudices of Somali Americans,” she said. “I refused his resignation and asked him to stay and show our community that those fraudsters are not representative of Somali Americans.”
‘Déjà vu’ for a community that fled crisis
As tensions continue to rise, Adan and the rest of CAIR-MN’s small staff have been scrambling to wade through an influx of calls from frantic community members.
Adan said he’s heard from imams who have received threatening phone calls, families wondering if they will be safe attending Friday prayers, and educators concerned about students being stopped by ICE on their way to school. He said ICE agents have been spotted in areas with a high density of Somali residents like Minneapolis’ Cedar-Riverside neighborhood, nicknamed “Little Mogadishu,” and the area surrounding the Karmel Mall, where hundreds recently gathered in support of the community.
“We’ve seen people be arrested – citizen and not and residents alike – asked for their papers and being detained in the cars by these ICE agents so they’re able to confirm their identities,” he said. “So far, we have three cases of mistaken identity, given that some people have similar names.”
Erin Bultje, a spokesperson for the Department of Homeland Security, told USA TODAY that characterization is “not accurate” and pointed to a news release touting the arrests of a dozen people, including five from Somalia, since the launch of Operation Metro Surge in Minneapolis on Dec. 1. ICE says it aims to capture “the worst of the worst.”
“What makes someone a target of ICE is not their race or ethnicity, but the fact that they are in the country illegally. Those who are not here illegally and are not breaking other laws have nothing to fear,” said Tricia McLaughlin, assistant secretary at the Department of Homeland Security, who confirmed that a deportation surge has started, according to Reuters.
The fear Somali American leaders told USA TODAY they’ve observed over the presence of ICE agents has evoked painful memories for those who fled the civil war. They are residents like Jamal Osman.
“It feels like we live in a dictatorship. It feels like people are having déjà vu with the crisis they went through, the civil war. We know authoritarianism,” said Osman, a city council member who represents a ward in central Minneapolis. “I feel like I’m living what my parents lived through in Somalia.”
What’s worse, Osman said, is that it feels as though there’s little city or state officials can do to protect residents. The mayor has issued an order prohibiting the use of city-owned parking lots, ramps, garages or vacant lots for civil immigration enforcement operations. But Osman said that hasn’t stopped the flow of messages from his constituents saying they’ve been targeted.
The use of “dehumanizing language” against the community is particularly dangerous amid an uptick in political violence, said Hamse Warfa, a Somali Minnesotan who previously worked in state government for the Walz administration and at the State Department under former President Joe Biden.
“It’s language that should never be used by any political leader, let alone the most powerful president in the world,” Warfa said. “And that undoubtedly is having a profound, profound impact both on the safety and the security of people.”
Warfa said Trump’s comments mirror disparaging remarks he made about Haitians earlier this year and it’s unlikely Somalis will be the last community targeted. “It’s just the next iteration, the next scapegoated group, and I don’t know who will be next,” he said.
But for many, including Iman, the social worker at the gathering in St. Cloud, Trump’s comments and the threats of deportation don’t mean the generations of Somali Americans in Minnesota are going to leave.
“We’re not undocumented,” Iman said. “We’re not going anywhere.”
Contributing: Riley Beggin and Bart Jansen, USA TODAY; Reuters
