San Francisco finds itself at the center of a heated national debate this week, as President Donald Trump repeatedly threatens to send National Guard troops to the city, labeling it as crime-ridden and insisting that its residents are clamoring for federal intervention. Yet, according to local and state leaders—and many San Franciscans themselves—this narrative is wildly out of step with the city’s current reality.
"This is a safe American city," Mayor Daniel Lurie told The Associated Press last week. "We got this in San Francisco." His message is clear: the city, with a population of roughly 830,000, is not in need of federal troops, and the situation on the ground is far less dire than the president claims.
President Trump’s threats are not unprecedented. He has previously deployed the National Guard to cities like Washington, D.C.—where he has direct control of the Guard—as well as to Memphis, Los Angeles, Chicago, and Portland, Oregon, often citing crime or protest-related unrest as justification. In Los Angeles, he argued that the Guard was necessary to protect federal buildings and agents during protests against mass immigration arrests. Chicago and Portland have also been targets of his rhetoric, though in both cities, local officials and residents said the reality on the ground was much calmer than Trump described.
In Portland, for example, Trump depicted the city as besieged by violent protests. But as AP reports, nightly demonstrations were actually small and largely confined to the area outside a federal immigration building. While there were some arrests for violence, the events were far less intense than the massive protests that shook the city in 2020 following the death of George Floyd.
Now, Trump’s focus has shifted to San Francisco. "The difference is, I think they want us in San Francisco," he said Sunday on Fox News. "San Francisco was truly one of the great cities of the world. And then, 15 years ago, it went wrong. It went woke." The president’s comments have left many locals baffled and frustrated. Kate Freudenberger, who works in retail downtown, described the city as peaceful and orderly: "You’ve been walking around the city, it’s peaceful, there is no insurrection," she said Tuesday morning. She also noted that immigration enforcement activity in San Francisco has been minimal, adding, "so there’s really been nothing for us to coalesce around."
Even among the city’s business leaders, Trump’s narrative has met resistance. Marc Benioff, CEO of San Francisco-based software giant Salesforce, made headlines earlier this month when he told The New York Times that he would welcome Guard troops to help quell crime ahead of his company’s major annual business conference. However, Benioff has since walked back those comments, stating the event was "the largest and safest" in its history and that the Guard is not needed.
San Francisco is, in many ways, a city in recovery. The COVID-19 pandemic emptied its downtown and brought renewed attention to issues like street homelessness and open drug dealing. But according to The Wall Street Journal, signs of a turnaround are everywhere. Artificial intelligence startups are snapping up office space, rental prices are rising, and the city saw a 21% increase in office visits over the past year, according to data from location analytics platform Placer.ai. Public transit ridership is now at its highest levels since the pandemic struck, and sidewalks—once lined with tent encampments—are noticeably cleaner.
Still, challenges remain. The Tenderloin neighborhood, long troubled by public drug use and dealing, continues to be a problem area, as do the Mid-Market and Mission districts. Yet, the overall picture is one of improvement: according to the San Francisco Police Department, overall crime is down more than 26% this year compared to the same period last year. Vehicle break-ins, a persistent annoyance for both residents and tourists, have dropped to a 22-year low, Mayor Lurie reported.
Lurie, who is regarded as a centrist Democrat and has generally avoided direct confrontations with President Trump, has been clear about what kind of federal help the city might actually welcome. On Monday, he stated, "The National Guard does not have the authority to arrest drug dealers—and sending them to San Francisco will do nothing to get fentanyl off the streets or make our city safer." Instead, Lurie has advocated for targeted federal assistance to disrupt drug markets and arrest high-level traffickers, rather than a broad military-style deployment.
San Francisco voters have also taken steps to bolster public safety, authorizing police use of drones, surveillance cameras, and other technology to fight crime in a 2024 ballot measure. The city’s approach to law enforcement has shifted in other ways as well: in 2022, voters recalled the politically progressive District Attorney Chesa Boudin and replaced him with Brooke Jenkins, who is widely seen as tougher on crime. Lurie has pushed to hire and retain more police officers, and entry-level police applications are up 40% over last year—a sign, perhaps, that the city’s efforts to rebuild its police force are gaining traction.
At the state level, resistance to Trump’s threats has been swift and unequivocal. Governor Gavin Newsom’s administration has pledged to "push back forcefully on any deployment," echoing its stance when Trump first ordered the California National Guard into Los Angeles against Newsom’s wishes. California Attorney General Rob Bonta has vowed to "be in court within hours, if not minutes" should the federal government attempt to send troops to San Francisco. Legal challenges have already proven effective elsewhere: lawsuits by Democratic officials in Chicago and Portland have so far blocked National Guard troops from patrolling city streets.
For many San Franciscans, the idea of a National Guard deployment evokes more anxiety than reassurance. Libby Baxter, a retired nurse, voiced her fears bluntly: "I believe that that may happen if they come to San Francisco because we are a very tolerant community, but we don’t do well with somebody coming in and trying to dictate or take over certain parts of our city." She, like others, worries that the presence of federal troops would provoke "chaos and unrest"—the very conditions Trump claims to want to prevent.
The political backdrop to all this is complex. San Francisco has long been a target for conservative criticism, often depicted as emblematic of urban decline and liberal excess. Yet, the city’s recent trajectory—rising business activity, improved public safety metrics, and a renewed sense of civic pride—suggests a different story. The struggle over who gets to define San Francisco’s present and future is far from over, and the outcome could have implications far beyond the city’s borders.
As the debate continues, one thing is certain: San Francisco’s leaders and residents are determined to chart their own course. Whether that means fending off federal intervention or building on recent progress, the city is, for now, standing firm on its own terms.
