Did Kristi Noem Get Demoted After the Alex Pretti Shooting?
Political exile has a subdued cadence. It was something much more intentional than a formal demotion or even a firing. Although Kristi Noem is still the Secretary of Homeland Security, her power has significantly diminished since the shooting of Alex Pretti.
Noem’s reputation unquestionably changed after Pretti, an unarmed intensive care unit nurse, was shot and killed during a federal immigration raid in Minneapolis. Within hours, the incident’s video went viral, sparking intense indignation and exposing contradictions in DHS’s statements. The administration’s tolerance for Noem began to erode along with the narrative that Pretti was an immediate threat.
| Name | Kristi Noem |
|---|---|
| Position | Secretary of Homeland Security (since Jan 2026) |
| Background | Former South Dakota Governor; vocal Trump supporter |
| Recent Shift | Side-lined after controversial Minneapolis operation |
| Public Role | Significantly reduced visibility since Pretti shooting |
| Key Source | CBS News: Noem under scrutiny post-Alex Pretti shooting |
In those early days, her public demeanor was remarkably reminiscent of a prosecutor assigning blame. Before the investigation had even started, she called Pretti a “domestic terrorist.” In an administration that thrives on both loyalty and plausible deniability, her eagerness to assign guilt—especially without a solid factual basis—made her vulnerable.
She has been conspicuously absent from important immigration briefings in recent weeks. Tom Homan, Trump’s border advisor, flew to Minneapolis to speak to local leaders, not Noem. It was Homan once more who rebalanced public messaging, lowering rhetoric and advocating for “de-escalation,” not Noem. There has been a strategic and symbolic change in visibility.
Employees have reported a gradual redistribution of responsibilities through unofficial briefings and internal memos. They talk about a “quiet benching,” which means that although Noem still has her title, she is no longer in charge of the department. As Homan’s voice takes over the airwaves, orders are increasingly filtered through deputy secretaries.
Such a low-key repositioning has been done by administrations before. However, the pace has been especially quick. More than 140 House Democrats have signed articles of impeachment against Noem since January. Formerly impartial senators like John Fetterman are now publicly critical. She may have mishandled a tense situation, according to some Republicans.
She hasn’t been let go, though.
Things are made more difficult by her political connection to Trump. One of the first to support his immigration reform and one of the most vocal supporters of border crackdowns, she has been a steadfast ally. She is protected, but not insulated, because of her loyalty. Trump’s trust is temporary and pragmatic. Furthermore, Noem’s credibility is now a liability.
The administration’s use of optics over declarations in handling this fallout is especially creative. There were no remarks. In DHS, Noem’s picture is still on display. However, power has been redirected almost surgically. The administration avoids a media frenzy by keeping her in place. To maintain control, they restrict her access.
It is a very successful balancing act.
More immediately, Border Patrol commander Gregory Bovino, who led the Minneapolis raid, was shuffled back to California in what sources called a “early retirement maneuver.” But Noem is in a more difficult position. Her demotion is practical rather than official.
Civil rights organizations have increased their pressure during the last month. DHS misconduct is now the subject of dozens of lawsuits. The ICE processes are being audited. Additionally, the Pretti family is still demanding independent investigations with the support of advocacy groups.
During all of this, Noem has come to represent unbridled reaction rather than federal strength. She has become less influential as a result of the words she used, the choices she made, and the silence that followed. The distance between allies has increased. According to reports, Stephen Miller, who previously supported her messaging, has started holding her accountable for DHS errors. Noem has reportedly told staff, “I followed the playbook they gave me,” in retaliation, being equally direct.
In contemporary politics, this cycle is well-known. Internal distancing is triggered by public outrage. Formerly prominent officials are now footnotes, visible only when called upon.
The majority of Noem’s influence that is still present is ceremonial. High-level meeting invitations have ceased to come in. No longer does the press corps hover outside her door. Additionally, the administration sent her replacement in name only when they needed someone to handle public tensions in Minneapolis instead of the Secretary.
Her story isn’t necessarily over, though. Political fortunes tend to turn around, especially in an hourly media cycle. For the time being, however, Kristi Noem serves as a reminder of how easily assurance can be lost and how quiet can reveal more than any official declaration.
She might appear before the Senate Judiciary Committee in the upcoming months. If it occurs, that appearance might be the last curtain call or a watershed moment. But until then, what she is not permitted to do will define her legacy more than what she says.