Somali Americans mobilize in Minneapolis as Trump’s 3,000-agent immigration push stokes voter-intimidation fears
MINNEAPOLIS — When immigration agents began aggressive operations across the Minneapolis area last month, Kowsar Mohamed’s phone never stopped buzzing. She knocked on doors, fielded late-night calls and organized an ad-hoc response team, as neighbors worried they were being singled out — a fear that revived memories of surveillance and arbitrary power many thought they had left behind when they resettled in the United States.
- Advertisement -
Within days, more than 100 volunteers were patrolling south Minneapolis, handing out “Know Your Rights” guides and escorting frightened elders to shops and appointments. The grassroots network has grown into a sweeping effort to counter what many local leaders call constitutionally suspect tactics that are rattling Minnesota’s roughly 80,000-strong Somali community, one of the country’s largest refugee populations.
“You would never fathom that people would just pluck you off the streets … and say, ‘Prove to me that you’re a citizen,’” Mohamed said, referring to reports of aggressive stops by federal agents. “It’s not that we never thought it was impossible. We just believed the Constitution was going to protect us from this level of interrogation.”
The operations, part of a 3,000-agent federal deployment ordered by Republican President Donald Trump, have sharpened accusations from Democrats and local leaders that the administration is targeting a politically influential community ahead of the 2026 midterm elections. Community organizers and civil rights advocates say the resulting climate of fear amounts to voter intimidation aimed at suppressing Somali turnout in November.
Trump has said the operations are necessary to combat crime and has pointed to a Minnesota fraud scandal involving theft of federal social-welfare funds to justify the surge. Many of those arrested, however, have no criminal charges or convictions, according to community leaders and local officials who have tracked detentions.
Tensions intensified after the Jan. 7 fatal shooting of 37-year-old Renee Good by an immigration agent, an incident that has kept Minneapolis on edge and deepened mistrust. Separately, residents and advocates accuse agents of harassing peaceful protesters, racial profiling and entering homes without warrants. “A lot of community members escaped war and this administration is triggering another war zone,” said Abdulahi Farah, co-chair of the Somali American Leadership Table (SALT), which formed in response to hate crimes and political attacks on Somalis.
The Department of Homeland Security said people served with administrative warrants or I-205 removal orders “have had full due process and a final order of removal from an immigration judge,” according to spokesperson Tricia McLaughlin. The White House added that immigrants “who fail to contribute to our economy, rip off Americans and refuse to assimilate into our society should not be here,” spokeswoman Abigail Jackson said.
Republican leaders in the state rejected claims of a political motive, while acknowledging concerns about tactics. Minnesota GOP Chairman Alex Plechash called the allegation “categorically false” and said complaints about aggressive conduct should be reviewed.
In Cedar-Riverside — the West Bank, a normally bustling Somali neighborhood lined with restaurants, boutique shops and convenience stores — business has slowed markedly since the operations began, according to shopkeepers. “It’s been really slow,” said Rashid Jama, a grocery manager. “A lot of our suppliers are Latino and they’re scared to come to work.”
The community response has been swift and disciplined, mixing mutual aid with political education. Volunteers document arrests and vehicle stops on their phones, coordinate peaceful protests and accelerate voter outreach. Mosques and neighboring community centers have become hubs for legal briefings, safety planning and civic training.
Organizers say their goal is to protect families in the short term while building long-term political power. Farah said Trump’s history of racist rhetoric against Black and other immigrants of color has emboldened far-right activists and destabilized small businesses, contributing to a broader sense of insecurity. “It’s signaling that if we get rid of them, if we scare them, they’re not going to come out to vote in the 2026 midterm election. We know that’s the target,” he said, noting SALT is partnering with grassroots groups to train voters on opposing raids and on kitchen-table issues like affordability.
Civil rights scholars say what is happening in Minneapolis echoes earlier crackdowns in Black and Latino neighborhoods that fed cycles of scapegoating and political backlash. Christina Greer, a political science professor at Fordham University, said the optics of a large-scale immigration sweep in a highly visible refugee community risks deepening racialized narratives about crime and belonging — narratives that often surface during election years.
Somali American voters have largely backed Democrats since refugees began resettling in Minnesota in the 1990s and became more politically active in the 2000s. U.S. Rep. Ilhan Omar, one of the community’s most prominent leaders, has been a frequent target of racist attacks by Trump and his allies, turning Minneapolis into a recurring flashpoint in national politics.
For Mohamed and her fellow volunteers, the work is as much about restoring dignity as it is about deterring abuse. They are training neighbors to calmly assert their rights, to ask to see warrants, to call designated hotlines and to stay present when agents appear. They also emphasize nonconfrontation, mindful that any escalation could lead to detention or worse.
What began as a loose network now resembles a neighborhood safety corps, with text chains, watch shifts and rapid-response teams. It is an organizing model that many say will outlast the current wave of raids — a reminder, they add, that civic participation can be a shield.
- Volunteer patrols in south Minneapolis to monitor stops and support families
- Distribution of multilingual “Know Your Rights” guides at mosques and markets
- Escorts for elders to clinics, grocery stores and community services
- Peaceful protests and coordinated filming of encounters with agents
- Accelerated voter registration and turnout education ahead of November
The effort is not limited to defense. Organizers are working to convert fear into turnout, betting that a community tested by upheaval is ready to flex its electoral strength. “The power we have is to vote,” said Abdullahi Kahiye, 37, who became a naturalized U.S. citizen in 2024. “ICE and whoever is trying to terrorize the Somali community will not succeed.”
As winter deepens and the political year begins in earnest, residents say they are bracing for more arrests and more uncertainty. But they also insist that the response — rooted in mutual care and civic resolve — is rewriting the narrative. In the West Bank, the late-night phone trees keep humming. The volunteers keep showing up. And the message, organizers say, is simple: They are staying, they are voting, and they will not be quieted.
By Ali Musa
Axadle Times international–Monitoring.
