President Donald Trump’s latest announcement to end Temporary Protected Status (TPS) for Somalis in Minnesota has sent shockwaves through the state’s Somali community, which is the largest in the United States. The move, made public late on November 22, 2025, via a Truth Social post, has sparked a heated debate over its legality, its real-world impact, and the broader message it sends about immigration policy in America.
Trump’s late-night post was direct and incendiary. He declared that he would “immediately” strip Somali residents in Minnesota of TPS, a program designed to protect immigrants from countries suffering from conflict or disaster from being deported. The president went further, claiming—without providing evidence—that “Somali gangs are terrorizing the people of that great State, and BILLIONS of Dollars are missing. Send them back to where they came from. It’s OVER!” according to NPR.
The reaction from Minnesota’s leaders and advocates was swift and fierce. Many questioned whether the White House even has the legal authority to enact such a directive as described. Heidi Altman, policy director at the National Immigrant Justice Center, told NPR, “There’s no legal mechanism that allows the president to terminate protected status for a particular community or state that he has beef with. This is Trump doing what he always does: demagoguing immigrants without justification or evidence and using that demagoguery in an attempt to take away important life-saving protections.”
Temporary Protected Status has a long history. Established by Congress in 1990, the program was intended to prevent deportations to countries wracked by war, natural disasters, or other dangerous conditions. The Department of Homeland Security grants TPS in 18-month increments, and for Somali nationals, the protection has been extended 27 times since 1991 due to ongoing instability in Somalia. Many Somalis in Minnesota arrived as refugees, fleeing the civil war that has ravaged their homeland for decades.
Yet, despite the heated rhetoric, the actual number of people directly affected by the move may be surprisingly small. A report prepared for Congress in August 2025 found that only about 705 Somalis nationwide are currently covered by TPS. Most of Minnesota’s Somali residents—tens of thousands strong—are either U.S. citizens or have other forms of legal residency. Representative Ilhan Omar, herself a Somali-American and a Democrat representing Minnesota, was quick to point out the discrepancy. “I am a citizen and so are (the) majority of Somalis in America,” she posted on social media. “Good luck celebrating a policy change that really doesn’t have much impact on the Somalis you love to hate.”
Nonetheless, advocates and community leaders warn that the announcement’s impact goes far beyond mere numbers. Jaylani Hussein, executive director of the Minnesota chapter of the Council on American-Islamic Relations, called Trump’s declaration “not just a bureaucratic change; it is a political attack on the Somali and Muslim community driven by Islamophobic and hateful rhetoric.” According to NPR, Hussein further warned that the move “will tear families apart.”
Trump’s post also referenced recent criminal cases in Minnesota, alleging that the state is a “hub of fraudulent money laundering activity.” Federal prosecutors have indeed charged dozens in a social-services fraud scheme, some of whom are Somali. But Minnesota Governor Tim Walz, a Democrat, dismissed Trump’s broad-brush accusations, noting that Minnesota consistently ranks among the safest states in the country. “It’s not surprising that the President has chosen to broadly target an entire community,” Walz said Friday. “This is what he does to change the subject.”
Community advocates are quick to point out the positive contributions of the Somali diaspora in Minnesota. Somali immigrants have revitalized downtown corridors in Minneapolis, built thriving businesses, and become an integral part of the state’s political and social fabric. “The truth is that the Somali community is beloved and long-woven into the fabric of many neighborhoods and communities in Minnesota,” Altman told NPR. “Destabilizing families and communities makes all of us less safe and not more.”
The legal mechanics of Trump’s announcement are also under scrutiny. TPS is granted by the Homeland Security secretary and applies on a national, not state-by-state, basis. While a president can direct the Department of Homeland Security to revoke TPS for a specific country, singling out one state’s residents is not supported by current law. As Altman pointed out, “There’s no legal mechanism that allows the president to terminate protected status for a particular community or state.”
Trump’s move is part of a broader push for hardline immigration policies. During his campaign to return to the White House, he repeatedly promised to deport millions of people. His administration has already moved to withdraw various protections that allowed immigrants to remain in the United States and work legally. According to NPR, this includes ending TPS for 600,000 Venezuelans and 500,000 Haitians—protections that had been granted under President Joe Biden. The administration has also sought to limit TPS protections for migrants from Cuba and Syria, among other countries.
For many in Minnesota’s Somali community, the latest announcement feels like another chapter in a long history of being targeted by political rhetoric. The fear is that such statements, even if they have little immediate legal impact, can inflame hate and suspicion at a time when Islamophobia is already on the rise. “This is not just a bureaucratic change,” said Hussein. “It is a political attack on the Somali and Muslim community driven by Islamophobic and hateful rhetoric.”
Meanwhile, the practical effect of Trump’s announcement remains unclear. With only a small fraction of Minnesota’s Somali residents actually covered by TPS, the legal and logistical hurdles to carrying out mass deportations are significant. Most Somalis in Minnesota are citizens or permanent residents, and the state’s laws and institutions have long supported the integration and success of immigrant communities.
Yet, the symbolism of the move is powerful—and, for many, deeply unsettling. As the debate over immigration policy continues to rage across the country, Minnesota’s Somali community finds itself once again at the center of a national controversy, grappling with the uncertainty and anxiety that comes with being singled out by the highest office in the land.
As the dust settles, one thing is clear: the conversation about who belongs in America, and on what terms, is far from over. For Minnesota’s Somali community, the struggle for acceptance and security continues—amid both the shifting winds of politics and the enduring promise of the American dream.