In the grand, unfolding reality show that is American politics, the script has become as predictable as a laugh track. When the narrative sours, when the promised economic boom fizzles into continued inflation and tariff-induced headaches, there is a trusted formula for changing the channel. This week’s episode: “The President and the Garbage,” starring Donald J. Trump and a convenient, resilient, and entirely American community of Somali descent.
The plot twist, of course, is that there is no twist. It’s a rerun. The president stands before the nation, not to announce a plan to lower healthcare costs as subsidies expire, but to declare that an entire group of U.S. citizens and legal residents are “garbage” he doesn’t want “in our country”. His specific target is Representative Ilhan Omar (D-Minn.), a former refugee and now a congresswoman, whom he brands with the same dehumanizing term. The stated pretext is a fraud scandal in Minnesota, but the subtext—amplified to a deafening roar—is pure political theatre. The goal isn’t governance; it’s to gin up the base, deflect from policy failures, and execute a crude but effective two-for-one: attack a progressive lawmaker while terrorizing her constituents.
The Art of the Diversion: A Political Strategy, Laid Bare
The mechanics are transparent to the point of satire. The administration faces scrutiny on multiple fronts, from a defense secretary embroiled in scandals to a domestic agenda struggling to deliver. The solution? Find a villain.
· The Villain: In this case, the Somali-American community, particularly in Minnesota. A handful of individuals implicated in a social services fraud scheme—which the state governor admits may have been too generously administered during the pandemic—becomes grounds for tarring an entire population of over 84,000 in Minneapolis-St. Paul alone, the majority of whom are U.S. citizens.
· The Amplifier: The long-standing feud with Rep. Ilhan Omar, a “prominent critic” who handily wins her district. By tying the community scandal to a personal political foe, the attack gains narrative cohesion for the base. It’s not bigotry; it’s just “fighting back” against a political enemy. This framing ignores the fact that over 90% of Somalis in Minnesota are citizens by birth or naturalization, including teachers, doctors, police officers, and yes, even some who voted for Trump.
· The Action Sequence: Rhetoric must be married to action to make the threat tangible. As the verbal attacks peak, Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) launches operations in the same communities. Reports surface of masked agents, unmarked cars, and U.S. citizens and lawful residents being detained and questioned—over 170 such instances documented in one recent investigation. The administration denies targeting based on race, but the community’s experience tells a different story. The chilling effect is immediate and deliberate.
The Human Algorithm: When Satire Meets Survival
The community’s response is where the administration’s crude script meets a sophisticated, modern reality. Faced with dehumanization, Somali-Americans have weaponized the very tools of modern discourse: satire, digital culture, and constitutional grit.
Fact Check vs. Fear Mongering:
· The Claim: Minnesota is a “hub of fraudulent money laundering activity” with funds flowing to terrorist groups.
· The Fact: While a fraud scheme is under investigation, federal prosecutors have brought no charges linking it to terrorist financing. Governor Tim Walz calls the terror link claim an unfounded slander against all Minnesotans.
While fear is palpable—businesses close, streets empty, people share photos of unmarked cars in private message groups—a defiant, humorous pushback has flourished online. On TikTok and X, creators have used AI to insert Somali figures into iconic American historical images, a pointed reminder of their place in the national story. They parody other nationalist narratives, joking that Minnesota was promised to them “3,000 years ago”. This isn’t just coping; it’s a masterclass in using First Amendment tools to expose the absurdity of the attacks. As one legal analyst noted, it highlights the ridiculousness of an anti-immigration movement “in a land where the natives were genocided”.
Yet, this digital bravery exists alongside profound anxiety. “Anyone who looks like me is scared right now,” said Minneapolis City Council Member Jamal Osman, a naturalized citizen. The fear is that the president’s rhetoric paints a target, encouraging others to become “more radicalized”. This is not hypothetical. Women in hijabs report being chased, and the number of death threats against Rep. Omar and her staff spikes after each presidential tirade.
The Bigger, Uglier Picture: A Playbook of Prejudice
The attack on Somali-Americans is not an isolated incident but a chapter in a well-thumbed playbook. It follows a consistent logic:
1. Identify a community that is distinct in race, religion, or origin.
2. Seize on a real or alleged crime committed by a few to smear the many.
3. Elevate a cultural or political figure from that community as a avatar of the threat.
4. Marry rhetoric to enforcement action to create a climate of tangible threat.
5. Frame any criticism as sympathy for criminals or opposition to law and order.
We’ve seen this show before. It was previewed in the 2016 campaign launch attacking Mexican immigrants, tested with the “Muslim ban,” and had successful runs targeting Haitian and African migrants. The current season simply features a new cast. It is amplified by a framework of broader policies, like the permanent pause on immigration from so-called “third-world countries” and the termination of Temporary Protected Status for Somalis.
The tragic irony, as Rep. Omar notes, is that this vitriol is spewed by a man who “fails to acknowledge how this country was built on the backs of immigrants and mocks their ongoing contributions”. The greater irony is that this performance may work in the short-term political calculus, energizing a base ahead of a midterm election. But it writes a shameful legacy in real time—one where children go to school knowing the President of the United States called them “garbage”, where citizens fear their own government, and where the promise of America is negotiated down to a nativist punchline.
In the end, the community’s resolve might be the ultimate satire of the administration’s efforts. “We are scared,” said one non-profit director. “But we’re united”. They are responding to a campaign of division with solidarity, to dehumanization with a fierce affirmation of their identity and belonging. They are, in essence, refusing to act according to the script. The president’s goal may be to tear them down, but as Omar concludes, his attacks only seem to make his targets—and the principles they defy—stand taller. The ratings for this particular show, it seems, might finally be falling.
Warsame Policy & Media Network (WAPMEN) 