On Sunday night, hundreds of people gathered at the Brian Coyle Center in Minneapolis’s Cedar-Riverside neighborhood—often called “Little Mogadishu”—to rally behind Omar Fateh, the first Somali American elected to the Minnesota State Senate and now a leading candidate for mayor.
Fateh’s campaign, once dismissed as unrealistic, has gained huge momentum since late July when he won the Democratic-Farmer-Labor (DFL) Party’s endorsement. That victory shook the city’s political landscape, putting him at the center of a growing grassroots movement fueled by Somali Americans, immigrants, and young progressives who want change.
The rally was full of pride and energy. Supporters wore t-shirts with Fateh’s name, waved handmade signs, and switched easily between Somali and English as they greeted each other. Some signs highlighted local struggles, while others showed solidarity with global causes. The atmosphere reflected a community confident in its identity and determined to shape Minneapolis’s future.
“This campaign belongs to all of us,” Fateh told the cheering crowd. He then repeated the message in Somali, drawing even louder applause.
At 35 years old, Fateh represents a new generation of leadership. Born to Somali parents and raised in the United States, he understands the challenges of growing up between two cultures—holding onto family traditions while navigating American life. In 2020, he made history as the first Somali and Muslim to serve in Minnesota’s State Senate. Now, he is aiming to become the first Somali mayor of a major American city.
Fateh’s campaign is centered on progressive policies that focus on working families, renters, and immigrants. He is calling for a $20 minimum wage, limits on rent increases, and ending cooperation between local police and federal immigration enforcement. These ideas speak directly to communities dealing with high living costs, housing insecurity, and fear of deportation.
His rise has drawn comparisons to New York legislator Zohran Mamdani, another young politician from an immigrant background who built a strong base among working-class voters. Fateh calls Mamdani a friend and ally, and both share a vision of inclusive politics led by ordinary people, not just party insiders.
But not everyone in the DFL is celebrating his success. Supporters of current Mayor Jacob Frey are challenging the party’s endorsement process. During the July 21 convention, 176 delegate votes were mistakenly left out of the first round of voting. Frey’s campaign says this mistake unfairly helped Fateh. In protest, many of Frey’s delegates walked out before the final vote, which was done by a show of hands and gave the endorsement to Fateh.
The party’s rules committee is now reviewing the dispute. If the endorsement is overturned, it could divide the DFL and risk alienating younger and more diverse voters who have strongly backed Fateh. More than 200 delegates signed a letter warning party leaders not to silence the very communities that often decide statewide elections.
For many Somali Americans, the fight is about more than endorsements or party rules. It is about recognition, power, and belonging in a city that has long struggled with racial inequality and tense debates over policing. Fateh’s candidacy shows that the Somali community is no longer on the sidelines of politics—they are becoming a central part of it.
Fateh often reminds supporters that inclusion should not mean losing identity. Instead, he argues, political power can be built from the ground up by people who have too often been ignored.
Whether Fateh will win City Hall is still uncertain. But on that Sunday night under the bright lights of the Coyle Center, one thing was clear: a community that has long been overlooked now believes it has the power to make history.
