Thousands rally against Trump in 'No Kings' protests statewide

A cacophony of megaphones and raised voices mingled with the honking of horns and billowing exhaust as several thousand people marched up two of Albuquerque’s busiest thoroughfares to protest the Trump administration on immigration enforcement, the Epstein files and, most recently, the Iran war.

The No Kings protest on Saturday saw city officials temporarily rerouting buses while police officers shut down traffic along large swaths of Montgomery and San Mateo to allow crowds to march the blacktop in a 3-mile loop. 

Dozens gathered in camp chairs and under umbrellas alongside the roadway, some in the self-proclaimed “too old to march” crowd, to wave signs and cheer on the joyfully raucous rallygoers stomping by.

The protest was one of many held across New Mexico and among thousands nationwide.

White House spokesperson Abigail Jackson characterized the rallies as the product of “leftist funding networks” with little real public support. The “only people who care about these Trump Derangement Therapy Sessions are the reporters who are paid to cover them,” Jackson said in a statement.

At Montgomery Park, just south of Montgomery and San Pedro, former Georgia House Minority Leader Stacey Abrams and other speakers revved up a crowd that spilled off the grass into the surrounding neighborhood.

Above their heads waved upside-down American flags, Palestinian flags and signs with messages such as “Worst King Ever, Hands Down,” “No Faux-King Way!” “Calm Down Gringo, I’m Legal” and “No Kings for the Epsteinth Time.” 

Abrams, a long way from home, showed she had done her studying.

“We are in a moment where we do have to make a choice,” she said. “For a long time we could say ‘red or green’ or we could go with ‘Christmas’ — but we were all headed in the same direction. And then January 2025 happened and it became very clear that we weren't all headed in the same direction.”

Since then, she said, “we have watched the devolution of democracy in real time” as the  Trump administration has taken the “10 steps” to authoritarianism and autocracy, including controlling elections, attacking the truth and gutting the government “so it doesn’t work for anyone.”

But, Abrams added, there are also 10 steps “to freedom and power” and she asked the crowd to join her in taking the first, “We commit to believing that democracy is ours, this nation is ours, and they are not taking it from us!”

The Republican Party of New Mexico, on X, joined state Senate Republicans in their own rally cry, but against Gov. Michelle Lujan Grisham: “NO QUEENS!’

“While New Mexicans across our great state are celebrating the fact that we DO NOT have a King. We remind you that New Mexico also rejects the idea of having a QUEEN,” according to the post. “Instead of massively expanding government programs, trying to take firearms from law-abiding citizens, and illegally spending tax dollars, we should focus on real solutions for everyday New Mexicans.”

From the north to the south

Protests spawned across southern New Mexico, in cities such as Deming, Las Cruces, Alamogordo, Carlsbad and Hobbs. Many were within more conservative regions, like Sierra County, where voters repeatedly chose Trump by large margins.

In the midst of that red county, Truth or Consequences is a colorful bowl drawing in travelers and retirees from all over, outdoors enthusiasts, writers and artists and others drawn to the landscape, hot springs and the region’s healing and cultural traditions.

Sierra County Indivisible, founded in 2017, drew over 350 people to Saturday’s protest, congregating in a traffic-island park bounded by Broadway, Date and Main streets. Participants decked the park with U.S. flags and held handmade signs with messages denouncing the administration, supporting Ukraine and decrying the bombardment of Iran. Signs also displayed slogans like “Save democracy,” quips like “ICE belongs in margaritas,” and one political demand: “Impeach Trump.”

Passing cars signaled support with blasts of their horns, but a few motorists expressed other sentiments as well. One black pickup truck slowed down and pulled in close the curb and then gunned its motor to spew a black sneeze of exhaust at protesters.

“I wish we saw more high school students out here — that’s what worries me,” retired schoolteacher John Swicinski said, gazing across a crowd where almost no one appeared to be younger than 50. He said lines dividing political opinions had hardened in recent years, and admitted he had drawn some personal boundaries himself in a community where he frequently runs into former students and their families, including ardent Trump supporters.

“We have nothing in common right now,” he said of the latter group. “If we don’t come together to save this country, Republican or Democrat, we’re lost.”

Yet local Indivisible organizer Dimid Hayes, a 30-year TorC resident, saw the demonstrations as an opportunity to strengthen a sense of community.

“A lot of people are just saying this is not what they voted for, and they’re really upset,” he said. “You really want to be reaching out and strengthening the fiber of your neighbors.”

Hayes admitted that, even as an optimist, positivity has its limits.

“I also believe that things are not going to get better in the short term and it’s very possible that things will get so harsh that you really will want to know who your neighbors are — and who you count on,” he said.

‘It fills my cup’

In the Duke City, as the crowd readied to march, Jennifer Robinson weaved through the masses at Montgomery Park. She was dressed as Lady Justice — with suit-clad fake arms wrapped around her body. 

“Worst president ever,” she said. “… He’s groping our government, groping our women.”

Robinson said, since the prior No Kings march, the situation has escalated, with the Iran war costing billions and immigration enforcement making people fearful. She added, “kids are afraid to go to school, they’re afraid to come home to no parents.”

Robinson said marching not only shows the opposition that “we’re here” but also lets like-minded people know that they’re not alone, they’re not helpless.

“It fills my cup,” she said, surveying the thousands around her. “… When I think of patriotism, this is it.”

Klint, who brought along his 6-year-old son, Manny, said he thinks the country has been headed in the wrong direction for some time. “We want to see change,” he said, “that change starts at the top.”

Klint, who declined to give his last name, said he has immigrants in his family and is concerned for their safety. He said that worry and seeing the past rallies from home inspired him to come out Saturday and bring his son.

“It's important to share these values,” he said, looking down at Manny. “That he knows that he can exercise his voice, because we might lose that. We don't want to lose that — we want him to have a taste for what it means to be a democracy.”

Jo Anne Martinez-Kilgore, joined by her aunt Rosalie Perea, said she is in disbelief.

“It seems that things we never thought would happen are happening. And there’s not much that we can do until the next election,” she said. “I don't know that this does any good, protesting, but I find it inspiring to see people out here, and I enjoy seeing the signs — everybody has their issues and they’re coming together.”

Martinez-Kilgore, who said she volunteered during the last presidential election, said she was discouraged to see people of color and the young generation voting for Trump “because of the economy.”

She added, “As far as I can see, it hasn't gotten better.”

Perea said she takes solace in the togetherness, at a time that can feel frightening.

“You know you’re not alone in how you feel,” she said. 

The Associated Press contributed to this report.