In the heart of Montana—a state long considered a Republican stronghold—a surprising political storm is brewing. The catalyst? Deep cuts to federal public lands agencies enacted by President Donald Trump’s administration, which have upended rural livelihoods, inflamed local passions, and, if the rumblings on the ground are any indication, may soon awaken a political giant that neither party can afford to ignore.
On December 12, 2025, President Trump, in a moment steeped in patriotic symbolism, donned a hat gifted by Captain Mike Eruzione and signed a bill awarding congressional gold medals to the 1980 U.S. Olympic men’s hockey team—the heroes of the “Miracle on Ice.” Yet, even as the president honored American legends in the Oval Office, his administration’s Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) was making headlines of its own in Montana, but for reasons far less celebratory.
As Politico reports, the Trump administration’s drive for government efficiency has led to sweeping cuts in staffing and funding for the agencies charged with managing the nation’s 640 million acres of federal public lands. Starting in February 2025, an estimated 5,200 employees were terminated from agencies like the Forest Service, Bureau of Land Management (BLM), and Fish and Wildlife Service. These cuts have been felt most acutely in rural communities—often the president’s most loyal base.
Take Terry Zink, a third-generation houndsman, hunter, and archery business owner from Marion, Montana. Zink, 57, is about as conservative as they come, and he voted for Trump. But when it comes to the DOGE cuts, he’s had enough. “You won’t meet anyone more conservative than me, and I didn’t vote for this,” Zink told Politico. He’s passionate about public lands—not just as a hunter, but as someone who sees these lands as the backbone of his way of life. “We have to listen to our wildlife biologists. We have to be strong advocates for those people,” Zink said, voicing concern for the scientists and trail crews who have lost their jobs.
Montana’s relationship with public lands runs deep. In 2024, Trump won the state by nearly 20 points, and Republican Tim Sheehy ousted three-term Democrat Jon Tester in a Senate race that shattered spending records. For the first time in nearly a century, Montana’s congressional delegation turned entirely red. But in Montana, support for public lands transcends party lines. A 2024 poll found that 95 percent of Montanans had visited public lands in the past year, with nearly half going at least ten times. Conservation is a core value: 98 percent of Democrats, 84 percent of independents, and 71 percent of Republicans said conservation issues matter in their voting decisions.
Yet, according to Montana Public Radio, many in Washington seem oblivious to how unpopular cuts to public lands are in the rural West. When Utah’s Senator Mike Lee tried to insert a provision into Trump’s “One Big Beautiful Bill” to sell off public lands, it was Montana’s Republican senators who led the outcry that forced the proposal’s removal. This rare show of bipartisan resistance underscored just how politically toxic public land sales are in Montana.
For ranchers like Denny Iverson of the Blackfoot River valley, the impact of the cuts has been immediate and personal. Montana experienced its worst drought in fifty years in 2025, and Iverson’s hay production plummeted to 60 percent of normal. From January to May, $4.6 million in already-appropriated federal public lands funding was frozen, stalling crucial conservation projects like drought resilience and wildfire mitigation. "We’re trying to keep enough water in the river to keep the fish alive," Iverson explained. As a member of the Blackfoot Challenge—a coalition of landowners and agencies working to conserve the valley—he saw firsthand how frozen funds left families in debt and threatened the region’s agricultural future.
Trump’s 2026 budget only deepened the anxiety, proposing further cuts that would eliminate nearly 18,500 more public lands employees and ax the WaterSMART program, which supports water security for rural communities. The U.S. House, meanwhile, voted to discard three major public lands management plans, including one in eastern Montana, rerouting land use decisions through Congress—far from the people whose lives depend on those lands.
The consequences ripple through every sector of Montana’s rural economy. Forestry, another major industry, has been reeling. One forester, who asked to remain anonymous, told Politico that half his income comes from federal contracts. When the cuts hit, he was out of work for a month, unable to pay his employees. "The unknown of if I’m going to have contracts next year—it’s very stressful. And then you’ve got to tell your employees what’s going on, and they might be thinking about finding another job. I can’t think of anything more stressful than not having a job that you’re counting on," he said.
Missoula County commissioner Juanita Vero, a fourth-generation owner of the E Bar L Guest Ranch, echoed the frustration. “These are folks who are skilled at working in the woods. … A lot of these guys were on a payment plan for buying equipment, ready to do this contracted work, and funds are frozen, and they can’t do their work. They don’t have a cushion. That was really scary and frustrating.”
Even as Trump signed an executive order to increase logging, the DOGE cuts left agencies without the staff needed to administer timber sales or oversee wildfire mitigation. The result? Private contractors couldn’t do the work, and the risk of catastrophic wildfires increased. Ravalli County, for example, pleaded with the state’s congressional delegation to re-staff the Bitterroot National Forest—so far, to no avail.
Some Montanans suspect the cuts are part of a broader strategy to undermine public lands, setting the stage for privatization. “Hollowing out staffing, cutting budgets, changing priorities—all of that very much lends itself to the idea of essentially causing those agencies to fail at meeting their mandates, and that will lead to the call for privatization,” Sarah Lundstrum of the National Parks Conservation Association told Politico. A Department of the Interior spokesperson pushed back, insisting, “The DOI is committed to stewarding America’s public lands and any suggestion that this Administration is seeking to sell them off is simply false ... Our mission remains to protect public lands, support rural livelihoods and ensure communities are more resilient in the face of increasing wildfire risk.”
Yet the sense of threat is palpable. Hunters, ranchers, outfitters, and guides—all depend on public lands, and all are mobilizing. Jack Rich, an outfitter and owner of the Rich Ranch, put it this way: “If we get poked too hard on this, they’re going to get primaried and voted out.” The memory of 2018, when hunters and anglers in Idaho and Wyoming voted down Republican candidates who attacked public lands, looms large. With more than three in five Montana voters identifying as hunters or anglers, the political consequences could be severe.
As the dust settles from the first wave of cuts and more may loom on the horizon, Montana’s political landscape is shifting beneath the feet of those who have long taken its loyalty for granted. The state’s deep connection to public lands—and the livelihoods they sustain—may yet prove to be the force that redefines its political future.