Alma Hernandez\u2019s home used to feel like her sanctuary. Now it feels like a fortress.<\/p>\n
In recent years she has installed cameras, alarms and a lock that opens with her fingerprint. She put iron bars on her windows and a blinding floodlight on her front porch. She cut down two trees in her yard after the police told her they could aid an intruder, and her brother moved in to protect her when the death threats intensified.<\/p>\n
Ms. Hernandez, an Arizona state representative since 2019, did not know she was signing up for a dangerous job. But these days, serving in public office increasingly means looking over your shoulder.<\/p>\n
\u201cPoliticians are no longer treated like we\u2019re human,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
Ms. Hernandez, a fourth-term Democratic lawmaker who is Mexican American and Jewish, has received threats from the far left and the far right. They have come in response to her outspoken support for Israel, her championing of vaccines and her first campaign, which drew attention from David Duke, a former leader of the Ku Klux Klan.<\/p>\n
Violent threats have arrived via her social media feed, her email inbox and her office phones. Her home address has been circulated online, and her mother has received menacing calls. Last year, an aide\u2019s car parked outside Ms. Hernandez\u2019s house was struck by gunfire. This year, state police opened an investigation after someone sent her a social media message pledging to \u201cfind, torture and brutally murder\u201d her and her friends, along with one of her two Chihuahuas.<\/p>\n
So pervasive are the threats that they have altered not only Ms. Hernandez\u2019s life, but also those of her family, friends and neighbors, who now keep a close eye on her home and warn her about suspicious activity. The intimidation has even influenced her approach to policymaking.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve asked myself, \u2018Is it really worth it?\u2019\u201d said Ms. Hernandez, 33, who was the youngest woman ever to be elected to the Arizona Legislature. \u201cI do wonder now, why would any 25-year-old want to do this with their life?\u201d<\/p>\n
Across America, threats of violence haunt the daily existence of elected officials, their staff members and their families. A New York Times investigation<\/a> has found that the nation\u2019s highest-profile politicians \u2014 including governors and members of Congress \u2014 face consistent violent harassment.<\/p>\n Studies show that violent threats are also rising against lower-level elected leaders, who number more than 500,000 and serve in state legislatures, city councils and school boards.<\/p>\n In a survey<\/a> conducted this year by Princeton University and CivicPulse, nearly 20 percent of 460 local elected officials across the country reported receiving threats during the first three months of 2026. Just like at the federal level, the perilous climate is pushing some local public servants out of office early and causing others to forgo running altogether, the researchers said.<\/p>\n But unlike national political figures, most state and local officials have few resources to help keep them safe. Faced with violent threats, they are often left to fend for themselves. And after a Minnesota state lawmaker and her husband were assassinated<\/a> last year, many say they feel more exposed than ever.<\/p>\n City and town officials are even more vulnerable, experts say, and they have been targeted repeatedly in Arizona in recent years. The Bridging Divides Initiative, a research center based in Princeton\u2019s policy school, found 57 confirmed threats against Arizona county and municipal lawmakers since 2022, a figure researchers say is an undercount.<\/p>\n In Maricopa County, home to Phoenix, death threats toward local officials surged after the 2020 election as President Trump\u2019s unfounded claims of voter fraud fueled a torrent of conspiracy theories. One county supervisor was diagnosed<\/a> with post-traumatic stress disorder and decided not to seek re-election, while threats to two other officials resulted in a prison sentence<\/a>.<\/p>\n At the state level, legislators from both parties have been targeted. In 2022, a former middle school music teacher emailed Senator Wendy Rogers, a Republican, and vowed to shoot her in the head. Last year, Arizona\u2019s secretary of state, Adrian Fontes, a Democrat, allowed<\/a> candidates for office to use campaign cash to pay for security, citing the dangerous political environment.<\/p>\n That decision helped Analise Ortiz, a Democratic state senator. Last year, her online posts alerting residents that immigration agents were near a school attracted a string of sinister threats, including several that said she would be hanged.<\/p>\n \u201cWalk around with security cause I promise you three months,\u201d one person wrote. Another said Ms. Ortiz\u2019s \u201ccar and home and family are easy to find.\u201d<\/p>\n Ms. Ortiz made a list of safe places and lived in undisclosed locations for two weeks as the threats rolled in, she said.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s remarkable that in the United States of America in 2026, as a state senator, I had to fear for my life,\u201d said Ms. Ortiz, whose district is west of Phoenix.<\/p>\n When she returned home, Ms. Ortiz, one of the statehouse\u2019s leading progressives, installed a camera system and petitioned a court to conceal her address.<\/p>\n She also bought a gun and trained to use it.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s horrible we have to think that way,\u201d Ms. Ortiz said. \u201cBut ultimately, my home and loved ones need to be protected.\u201d<\/p>\n Ms. Ortiz and Ms. Hernandez represent opposing factions of Arizona\u2019s Democratic Party, but they agree that violent rhetoric has reshaped both of their lives.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat she experienced and what I experienced are symptoms of the same problem,\u201d Ms. Ortiz said.<\/p>\n