Somali Americans
Based on Wikipedia: Somali Americans
When Donald Trump stood at a rally in December 2025 and declared that "those Somalians should be out of here," calling them "garbage" who have "destroyed our country," he was talking about one of the most industrious immigrant communities in American history. The story of Somali Americans is not what you'd expect from the heated political rhetoric—it's a century-long narrative of sailors, students, entrepreneurs, and returnees who've shaped both their adopted country and their homeland in profound ways.
The Sailors Who Came First
The earliest Somali immigrants weren't refugees fleeing war. They were sailors.
In the 1920s, merchant mariners from British Somaliland began arriving at American ports. These weren't temporary visitors—they eventually acquired American citizenship and became deeply invested in the political future of their homeland. When Somali political figures visited the United Nations headquarters in New York, these expatriate sailors served as key liaisons, bridging the world of international diplomacy and the independence movement back home.
Their contributions were substantial enough that the Somali government later awarded them medals. Some even received land grants in Somalia as recognition for their service. These sailors established the first foothold of what would become one of the largest Somali communities outside the Horn of Africa.
The Student Wave
After Somalia gained independence in 1960, a new wave arrived: students.
Throughout the nineteen sixties and seventies, young Somalis came to American universities on scholarships or stayed with relatives while pursuing higher education. This wasn't a one-way brain drain. Many returned to Somalia after graduation and played crucial roles in developing the newly independent nation. They brought back technical expertise, management skills, and connections to the wider world.
The pattern was clear: Somalis came to America, learned, and returned to build. This circular migration would shift dramatically in the coming decades.
When Civil War Changed Everything
The late nineteen eighties and early nineties marked a turning point. Civil war erupted in Somalia, and the trickle of immigrants became a flood.
By the mid to late nineteen nineties, tens of thousands of Somalis arrived seeking asylum. They came from different backgrounds and different parts of Greater Somalia—the cultural region that extends beyond Somalia's borders into parts of Ethiopia, Kenya, and Djibouti. Unlike the sailors and students before them, many of these refugees had no plans to return. There was nothing to return to.
Minnesota became the unexpected center of this new diaspora. By 2002, the state harbored the largest Somali population in North America. Why Minnesota? Partly because of voluntary agencies contracted with the State Department who helped resettle refugees there. Partly because of chain migration—once a community establishes itself, relatives follow. And partly because of economic opportunity.
Building an Economic Presence
The numbers tell a remarkable story of entrepreneurship. By 2006, Somalis in Minnesota accounted for between one hundred sixty-four and three hundred ninety-four million dollars in purchasing power. They owned six hundred businesses.
Minneapolis in particular became a hub of Somali commercial activity, with hundreds of Somali-owned and operated ventures. These weren't just corner stores—they represented a full spectrum of economic activity, from restaurants to trucking companies to professional services.
Employment data reveals both challenges and progress. At the time of the 2010 census, forty-seven percent of Somalis in Minnesota were employed, thirteen percent unemployed, and forty percent economically inactive. That unemployment rate was notably higher than the six percent unemployment among the state's overall foreign-born population. But it represented steady improvement from earlier years, when accessing the labor market had been particularly difficult for new refugees.
There was also a gender disparity. Census data from 2000 showed that sixty-five percent of Somali men in Minneapolis were employed, compared to only thirty-five percent of Somali women. This gap reflected both cultural factors and the specific challenges women faced in navigating a new labor market while often managing households and children.
By the period from 2011 to 2015, national figures showed improvement: fifty-eight percent of working-age Somali Americans were employed, and five point one percent were self-employed. In Minnesota, those numbers were even better—sixty-two percent employed and five point nine percent self-employed, attributed to the state's strong economy.
Perhaps most telling: an analysis of 2014 American Community Survey data showed that the labor force participation rate of Somali men aged twenty-five to sixty-four was eighty-four percent, with the rate for women being sixty-four percent. Compare that to eighty-one percent and seventy-three percent for American-born men and women respectively. Somali men were actually participating in the workforce at higher rates than native-born Americans.
The Remittance Lifeline
Even as they built lives in America, Somalis maintained strong ties to their extended families abroad. Remittances—money sent back home—became a crucial economic lifeline for relatives in Somalia and the wider diaspora.
The 2014 Money Remittances Improvement Act helped facilitate these transfers, recognizing their importance. For many Somali families, these regular payments meant the difference between subsistence and survival, or between basic education and none at all for children back home.
The Unexpected Return
By 2012, something surprising happened. As the security situation in Somalia improved, many Somali American residents began returning to Mogadishu and other parts of the country.
This wasn't a mass exodus, and it wasn't primarily motivated by failure to integrate in America. Instead, most returnees went back for investment opportunities and to participate in the post-conflict reconstruction process. They renovated schools, hospitals, and roads. They invested in infrastructure. They played a leading role in Mogadishu's recovery and helped propel the local real estate market.
Some brought American-born children or business associates with them. A few of these returnees were later sought or prosecuted for allegedly providing material support to Al-Shabaab or Islamic State militant groups. But according to intelligence officials, fewer expatriates were joining these groups' ranks by late 2013. The dominant story was economic development, not radicalization.
The circular migration that had characterized the student era was returning, but in a new form. Now it was investors and builders making the journey back.
How Many Somali Americans Are There?
Estimates vary wildly—from as few as thirty-five thousand to as many as one hundred fifty thousand persons. The 2010 American Community Survey data suggests approximately eighty-five thousand seven hundred people with Somali ancestry in the United States, with seventy-six thousand two hundred five actually born in Somalia.
Of those, about twenty-five thousand—roughly one third—live in Minnesota, with twenty-one thousand of them born in Somalia. Somalis are the second-largest ethnic group from the Horn of Africa in America, after Ethiopians.
During the 2008 to 2012 period, the largest concentration of Somalia-born people lived in the Minneapolis-Saint Paul-Bloomington metropolitan area, with seventeen thousand three hundred twenty residents. But significant communities also existed in Columbus, Ohio (ten thousand two hundred eighty); Seattle-Tacoma-Bellevue in Washington (seven thousand eight hundred fifty); San Diego (two thousand eight hundred forty-five); the Washington D.C. area (two thousand seven hundred fifteen); and Atlanta, Phoenix, Portland, Nashville, and Boston, each with populations ranging from one thousand to two thousand three hundred.
Official Recognition
In 2014, the Minneapolis City Council passed a resolution marking July 1st as Somali American Day. The date commemorates Somalia's Independence Day, celebrated annually on the same day. The council also made Minneapolis and Bosaso—a city in northeastern Somalia—sister cities.
That same year, the Federal Government of Somalia announced it would start officially keeping count of Somalis abroad, recognizing the diaspora's importance to the nation's future.
Community Organizations and Political Engagement
Various Somali-run organizations have emerged to represent and serve the community. On the west coast, Somali Community Services in San Jose and the Somali American Council of Oregon offer guidance to new families and work with municipal authorities to strengthen civic relations.
In Columbus, the Somali Community Access Network is one of several groups serving the local Somali population. Minnesota has the Confederation of Somali Community in Minnesota, the Somali American Parent Association, and the Somali Action Alliance, all offering social services.
Politically, the community has organized on both sides of the aisle. A Somali American Caucus formed within the Minnesota Democratic-Farmer-Labor Party to represent community interests. Meanwhile, a Somali American chairs the Republican Party's Immigrant Relations Committee in Minnesota.
The community's highest-profile political achievement came with the election of Ilhan Omar to the United States House of Representatives, representing Minnesota's fifth congressional district. She became the first Somali American elected to Congress.
The Trump Era and Anti-Somali Sentiment
The community has faced significant rhetorical attacks, particularly from Donald Trump. Two days before the 2016 presidential election, Trump called Somalis "a disaster" for Minnesota. But his rhetoric escalated dramatically during his second term as president.
In December 2025, Trump engaged in what The Guardian described as "extended racist tirades" against Somalis, stating: "Those Somalians should be out of here. They've destroyed our country. And all they do is complain, complain, complain." A week earlier, he'd called Somalis "garbage" and said he didn't want any of them in the United States.
His administration ended the Temporary Protected Status program for Somalis in Minnesota and directed Immigration and Customs Enforcement to conduct raids in Minneapolis. Trump also falsely claimed that Representative Ilhan Omar was in the country "illegally," despite her being a naturalized American citizen.
Anti-Somali incidents have occurred throughout the twenty-first century, typically involving an intersectionality of prejudices: anti-Muslim, anti-Black, anti-immigrant, anti-African, and anti-allophone (prejudice against speakers of languages other than English). These incidents increased following Trump's rhetoric. Some female Somali Americans in Minnesota reported religious harassment, and others reported sexual assault by members of the Immigration and Customs Enforcement agency.
In Fairfax, Virginia, the Somali community adjacent to the Dar Al Nur Community Center was repeatedly subjected to physical attacks and property destruction over a three-year period in the early 2020s.
Diplomatic Representation
Somalis in the United States are represented by the embassy of Somalia in Washington, D.C. The embassies of Djibouti and Ethiopia—countries with significant Somali populations—provide additional diplomatic representation for resident ethnic Somalis.
Even the breakaway region of Somaliland, which declared independence from Somalia but lacks international recognition, maintains a representative office in Washington.
Notable Somali Americans
Beyond Ilhan Omar, several prominent figures have emerged from the community. Mohamed Abdullahi Mohamed served as President of Somalia from 2017 to 2022, bringing his experience as a diplomat and professor to the role. Abdiweli Mohamed Ali, an economist, served as Somali Prime Minister.
Earlier figures include Mohammad Ali Samatar, who served as Somali Prime Minister from 1987 to 1990, and Ali Khalif Galaydh, a politician and former minister in the 1980s. Dahir Adan Elmi served as Chief Commander of the Somali National Army in the 2000s.
The Long Arc
From sailors in the 1920s to students in the sixties and seventies, from refugees in the nineties to entrepreneurs and investors today, Somali Americans have continuously evolved their relationship with both the United States and Somalia.
They've faced employment challenges unique to refugee populations, yet achieved labor force participation rates that match or exceed native-born Americans. They've built businesses generating hundreds of millions in economic activity while maintaining remittance flows that sustain families abroad. They've produced elected officials and presidential advisors while enduring escalating xenophobic rhetoric.
The community numbers somewhere between thirty-five thousand and one hundred fifty thousand, depending on how you count—a small fraction of America's three hundred thirty million people. Yet their story illuminates fundamental questions about immigration, integration, circular migration, and what it means to maintain ties to a homeland while building a life in a new country.
When Trump calls them "garbage" who should be "out of here," he's not just attacking recent arrivals. He's attacking a community with roots stretching back a century—sailors who helped win Somali independence, students who returned to build their nation, refugees who fled war, and entrepreneurs who are now investing in both countries' futures.
The real story of Somali Americans isn't one of dependency or complaint. It's a story of resilience, economic contribution, and the complex, ongoing negotiation between multiple homelands that characterizes so much of the immigrant experience in America.