PIERRE, S.D. — Last week, in a cold farewell address to South Dakotans, Governor Kristi Noem issued a stark warning about an “invasion” occurring far from the state’s serene prairies and independent farming communities. She emphasized the dangers posed by “illegal aliens” and “got-aways” crossing the southern U.S. border, claiming they present a serious threat to both the economy and national security through the dissemination of cartel violence and harmful drugs.
Noem, who is expected to take charge of the Department of Homeland Security soon, claimed that Washington’s lack of action has led to dire consequences for states like South Dakota. “We are seeing the consequences of Washington’s inaction… known terrorists have crossed the border among the illegals – and they could be anywhere,” she warned. However, her alarming rhetoric masks a different reality; South Dakota’s unemployment rate stands at 1.9%, the lowest in the nation, highlighting an acute labor shortage that has increasingly relied on migrant workers, some of whom are present in the U.S. without legal status.
These migrants are the backbone of South Dakota’s thriving agricultural and construction sectors, working in slaughterhouses, dairy farms, and across various other industries. Any immigration policies enacted by Noem could have detrimental effects on local businesses that depend heavily on this labor force. This disconnect raises concerns among Republicans in the state, who argue she may be prioritizing her political aspirations over the immediate needs of her constituents.
Noem has openly embraced former President Trump’s strict immigration policies, showing support for initiatives like a “Muslim ban” during his presidency and sending South Dakota’s National Guard to the southern border, despite it being over a thousand miles away. Her strong stance has sparked fear among migrants, business owners, and community advocates alike. Ray Epp, a pork farmer, voiced a dire opinion: “If strict enforcement comes into play, we’re going to drown in our own red meat… there’d be a crash.” Community activist Nitza Rubenstein also stressed the importance of migrant labor, stating bluntly, “Who’s going to milk the cows? If the Latinos don’t, nobody will.”
Noem’s political journey began with a personal tragedy in 1994, when her father died in a farming accident, prompting her to take over the family business. During her time managing the ranch, she encountered the burdens of government regulation, which heavily influenced her political ideology centered around limited government and personal freedom. After multiple electoral victories, she became a national figure during the COVID-19 pandemic for resisting lockdowns and inviting Trump to Mount Rushmore for a Fourth of July celebration. However, her increasing national profile has often clashed with local Republicans who feel her focus on personal ambition has diverted attention from the pressing issues facing the state.
Her controversial decisions, including her use of a government plane for political events and backing of state projects that faced local opposition, have indicated a rift with some members of her party. Former State House Speaker Steven Haugaard remarked, “Valuable time has been wasted on one person’s political aspirations… while life-changing issues have gone on the back burner.”
As her plans to address immigration evolve, there remains ambiguity regarding how she will manage the demands of a diverse state while adhering to Trump’s stringent immigration policies. At a recent Senate hearing, she was pressed on how she would protect rural states from labor shortages while implementing deportation plans. Her response focused primarily on individuals with criminal convictions, lacking clarity on broader implications for the labor market.
Despite a past reluctance to sever ties with resettlement programs when offered by the Trump administration, Noem now openly critiques any systems that facilitate undocumented migration. In a state where many migrants contribute to the economy, such as a young Guatemalan couple who struggled but found meaningful employment, the fear of potential crackdowns is palpable. Having left their homes in search of a better life, they hope for legalization or the means to provide a better future for their child born in the U.S.
Contrasting the fears propagated by Noem’s rhetoric, towns like Huron showcase an increasingly diverse environment where migrants from various backgrounds are revitalizing the local economy. While the town faced decline in the previous decades, the influx of migrants has sparked a rural renaissance, with new services, businesses, and cultural exchanges enhancing community life. Formerly stagnating regions are now thriving, demonstrating that rather than an invasion, the presence of migrants signifies a vital contribution to the social and economic fabric of South Dakota.
“Without a doubt they saved us,” noted Todd Manolis, a local grocery store owner, reflecting on the positive impact of these communities. As South Dakota navigates this complex landscape, the interplay of migration, economic reliance, and political ambition adds layers to an ongoing conversation about the future of the state.
