Adam Friedland opens the conversation by asking Ilhan Omar about the recent pipe-bomb attack in Minneapolis’ downtown district. She pins the device to a disgruntled local, not an overseas terror cell, pointing to a 27-year-old suspect with a history of mental health calls. Omar stresses that law enforcement must treat domestic terrorism with the same urgency it gives foreign threats. She cites calls in Congress to expand the definition of “domestic violent extremism” so the FBI can investigate lone actors before they strike. Shifting gears, they talk about her path from a Somali refugee camp to Congress. She was 12 when her family fled Mogadishu in 1991. Years in Kenya’s Dadaab camp, then five seasons of Minneapolis winter, shaped her outlook. Omar describes the three oaths she took—two in Arabic, one in English—before the Minnesota Legislature, the U.S. House and the Constitution. She highlights the symbolic weight of swearing on both the Quran and the Bible, insisting it’s a statement about America’s promise to people of all backgrounds. When Friedland probes her views on assimilation versus cultural identity, Omar says the two aren’t mutually exclusive. She wears a hijab and serves on the Foreign Affairs Committee while voting on farm bills in Iowa. “I’m not a token,” she says. “I’m an American with a point of view rooted in my history.” She argues that debates over her loyalty distract from policy discussions on economic inequality and healthcare, issues she believes resonate across party lines.