Mogadishu, Somalia / Minneapolis, Minnesota – December 4, 2025 – Somalia's Prime Minister Hamza Abdi Barre on Wednesday urged his citizens to brush off U.S. President Donald Trump's inflammatory characterization of Somali immigrants as "garbage," emphasizing that such rhetoric is not unique to Somalia and warrants no formal response. Speaking at an innovation summit in Mogadishu, Barre described Trump's comments as part of a broader pattern of insults directed at multiple nations, suggesting the best approach is to "simply move on." The remarks, delivered amid reports of an impending U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) operation targeting undocumented Somalis in Minnesota, have ignited widespread condemnation from Somali officials, American civil rights advocates, and local leaders in the Midwestern state, home to the largest Somali diaspora community outside Africa.
Trump's tirade, which unfolded during a White House Cabinet meeting on Tuesday, December 2, marked an escalation in his long-standing criticism of Somali Americans. "Somalians ripped off that state for billions of dollars, billions every year, billions of dollars. And they contribute nothing," Trump declared, referencing Minnesota, where an estimated 80,000 to 107,000 people of Somali descent reside. He went further, labeling Somalia a "barely a country" that "stinks" and lacks basic infrastructure, military, or governance. "I don't want them in our country. Their country is no good for a reason. Their country stinks, and we don't want them in our country," Trump added, before turning his ire on Minnesota Democratic Rep. Ilhan Omar, a Somali refugee turned U.S. citizen and congresswoman, whom he explicitly called "garbage."
The president concluded his outburst by warning that the U.S. risks heading "the wrong way if we keep taking in garbage into our country," a phrase that echoed his 2018 description of African nations as "shithole countries" and his 2023 campaign rhetoric about migrants "poisoning the blood of our country." Vice President JD Vance was captured on video visibly supporting the comments by banging the table, drawing sharp rebukes from critics who accused the administration of endorsing xenophobia.
Barre's measured dismissal came hours after the summit audience pressed him on the remarks, which had dominated Somali social media and local broadcasts. "We are not the only country that Trump insults," the prime minister stated, citing examples like Nigeria and Haiti as previous targets of similar barbs. "Sometimes it’s better not to respond." His stance reflects Somalia's delicate diplomatic balancing act: The U.S. remains a crucial ally in the fight against al-Shabaab, the al-Qaeda-affiliated militant group that controls swaths of rural Somalia and has launched repeated attacks on Mogadishu. In fiscal year 2025, Washington provided approximately $128 million in aid to Somalia, despite recent Trump administration cuts to foreign assistance budgets. Analysts note that engaging Trump's rhetoric could jeopardize this partnership, especially as Somalia grapples with ongoing insecurity and poverty affecting its 19 million citizens.
Not all Somali officials adopted Barre's restraint. On Tuesday, Ali Omar, Somalia's state minister for foreign affairs, issued a pointed rebuke via X (formerly Twitter), accusing critics like Trump of exploiting Somalia as a "scapegoat or distraction from their own failures." "This narrative is not only false, it is an insult to our resilience and sacrifice," Omar wrote, calling on Somalis worldwide to "stand united, protect our dignity, and show the world that we are no pawn in anyone." His statement, interpreted as a veiled direct response to Trump's attacks, resonated in Mogadishu, where residents expressed a mix of outrage and fatigue. "We are not garbage," said Ali Yahye, a 24-year-old graphic designer in the capital. "Trump’s remarks were baseless and the Somali community in the U.S. has made a lot of contributions to the country." Elders like Abdisalan Omar from central Somalia decried the language as "shocking" and unbecoming of a world leader, while a minority acknowledged harsh truths about Somalia's instability but condemned the delivery as "unpleasant."
In Minnesota, Trump's comments landed amid fears of an ICE "strike team" operation set to deploy up to 100 agents from across the country to the Minneapolis-St. Paul metro area, focusing on Somalis with final deportation orders. The raids could begin as early as this week, potentially ensnaring U.S. citizens or those seeking legal status due to racial profiling. Local leaders, including Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey and St. Paul Mayor Melvin Carter, held a joint press conference on Tuesday to affirm solidarity. "Somali Americans are Americans," Frey declared. "To villainize an entire group is ridiculous under any circumstances." City Council Member Jamal Osman, a Somali immigrant who arrived in the U.S. at age 14, added, "Many families are fearful tonight, but Minneapolis stands with you. Somali Americans are here to stay."
Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz, a frequent Trump target, praised the Somali community's contributions as "educators, artists, doctors, lawyers, entrepreneurs," accusing the president of "demonizing an entire group of people who came here, fleeing civil war, and created a vibrant community that makes Minnesota and this country better." Walz's defense comes as the state faces scrutiny over a sprawling fraud scandal involving a child nutrition program during the COVID-19 pandemic. Federal prosecutors have charged 78 individuals—many of Somali descent—in what they allege was a $250–$300 million scheme to falsify reimbursements for meals, medical care, housing, and autism services. The case, which surfaced in 2022, has seen convictions, but Trump has seized on it to claim Somalis "ripped off" the state without evidence of widespread complicity. Walz acknowledged the fraud as a problem "not just Somalis" face, attributing it to Minnesota's generous social programs that "attract criminals," but stressed accountability without collective punishment.
The controversy traces back to Trump's first term, when he included Somalia in a 2017 travel ban targeting Muslim-majority nations and railed against Somali refugees at a 2019 Minneapolis rally, claiming the state had "suffered enough." His fixation intensified last month after conservative activist Christopher Rufo published unsubstantiated claims alleging that defrauded funds flowed to al-Shabaab via remittances, prompting Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent to launch an investigation. On November 21, Trump announced the immediate termination of Temporary Protected Status (TPS) for Somalis—a humanitarian program shielding about 705 nationwide from deportation due to Somalia's armed conflict—labeling Minnesota a "hub of fraudulent money laundering activity."
Omar, whose family fled Somalia's 1991 civil war and spent years in a Kenyan refugee camp before resettling in Minnesota, has borne the brunt of Trump's vitriol. "His obsession with me is creepy," she posted on X on Tuesday. "I hope he gets the help he desperately needs." In a NewsNation interview, she vowed resilience: "We are not, and I am not, someone to be intimidated, and we are not gonna be scapegoated. We are here to stay." A 2021 Minnesota Chamber of Commerce report underscores her point, noting Somali refugees' upward mobility: Despite initial challenges with education and poverty, the community now boasts higher workforce participation and economic integration.
The backlash has rippled across social media, with users decrying Trump's words as "unhinged racism." One widely shared post highlighted the hypocrisy: "He doesn't talk like this about White immigrants from Denmark, Sweden, South Africa. But Black and Brown people? He can't even hide his hatred anymore." Somali Americans like Salman Fiqy, a Trump supporter in 2024, admitted past discomfort with his anti-Muslim rhetoric but now see it as "political" base-rallying.
As ICE preparations advance, Minnesota officials have pledged non-cooperation with federal agents lacking warrants, citing risks to citizens. Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem confirmed an "increase" in enforcement but offered no timeline. Border Czar Tom Homan echoed Trump's urgency, framing the operation as part of a broader deportation drive.
Somalia's challenges—decades of warlord clashes, the 1991 regime collapse, and al-Shabaab's insurgency—have driven waves of migration since the 1990s. Yet, as Barre implied, Trump's barbs overlook U.S. complicity, including past support for Ethiopian interventions that fueled instability. In Mogadishu, trader Abdullahi Omar voiced frustration at the government's silence: "Somali leaders and politicians have to defend the nation and the national interests."
The episode underscores deepening U.S. divisions over immigration, with Trump's nativist agenda—revoking TPS, pausing asylum from 19 "high-risk" nations including Somalia, and scrutinizing green cards—poised to affect thousands. Civil liberties groups warn of "chilling effects" on communities, while economists highlight immigrants' net economic benefits, countering fraud narratives.
As the dust settles, Barre's call for unity may guide Somalia's path forward, but in Minnesota's Cedar-Riverside neighborhood—dubbed "Little Mogadishu"—fear lingers. "This is home. We’re not going anywhere," Osman reiterated. Whether Trump's words fracture alliances or galvanize resistance remains to be seen, but they have indelibly marked a tense chapter in U.S.-Somalia relations.
