Former Trump campaign manager Corey Lewandowski is working to rebuild his standing with President Trump while publicly suggesting that Senate Majority Leader John Thune faces a serious Republican primary threat in 2028, with fired DHS secretary Kristi Noem waiting in the wings.
Lewandowski, 52, used a late-June podcast appearance with conservative host John Fredericks to put Thune on notice. The former Trump operative did not name Noem directly, but his meaning was difficult to miss. The New York Post reported that eyebrows went up in Washington and across South Dakota's Black Hills after the interview aired.
Lewandowski told Fredericks that Thune "is very susceptible to a very serious Republican primary challenge," adding that voters would look for "someone who has a proven history of winning an election in South Dakota." The description fits one person above all others: Noem, the former four-term congresswoman and first woman elected governor of the state, who served as Trump's Homeland Security secretary before he fired her in March.
A May poll from KELOLAND and Emerson College found Thune's approval among South Dakota voters at just 28 percent. Trump's approval in the same survey stood at 53 percent. Trump carried the state by nearly 30 points, according to Lewandowski's own remarks. The gap between the president's popularity and the Senate majority leader's standing is the kind of opening that invites a primary challenge, and Lewandowski knows it.
Thune, 65, has not formally committed to seeking a fifth term in 2028. When reporters on Capitol Hill asked him this week whether he planned to run, his answer was measured.
"My assumption is, going in, that I am. You know, every election has an impact on that, so we'll see how it comes out in November."
That hedge may reflect political caution. It may also reflect the fact that Thune has drawn fire from the right for saying the SAVE America Act, which would require proof of citizenship to register to vote and photo ID to cast a ballot, does not have the votes to pass the Senate. For many Republican voters in a deep-red state, that position is hard to defend.
Reached for comment on Thursday, Lewandowski did not back down. He framed his remarks in terms of Trump's agenda rather than any single candidate.
"President Trump carried the state of South Dakota by nearly 30 points. The people of that state overwhelmingly support his agenda for America. No politician is immune to the will of the voters. I would encourage every incumbent senator to achieve this objective."
The statement stops short of naming Noem. But it does not need to. Lewandowski and Noem have been linked personally and politically for years, and their relationship has only become more visible since both left government.
TMZ published intimate photos this week showing Noem, 54, and Lewandowski biking and, as the tabloid put it, canoodling at Lake Minnetonka in Minnesota. Neither Noem nor Lewandowski has publicly commented on the images. Both are still officially married to other people, Lewandowski to Allison Hardy, his wife since 2005, and Noem to Byron Noem, though Noem's family has indicated she plans to divorce her husband following personal revelations reported by the Daily Mail.
The personal entanglement between Lewandowski and Noem is not new. It played a direct role in Noem's downfall at DHS. At a congressional hearing, Noem was asked point-blank whether she was having an affair with Lewandowski. Her non-answer was described by sources as the "final straw" for Trump, who had already grown frustrated with Noem over controversies surrounding immigration enforcement at the department.
Trump fired Noem in early March. Lewandowski's position as a special government employee at DHS ended at the same time. Whether he was forced out or left voluntarily remains disputed, some sources say Trump pushed him out, while Lewandowski's allies insist he departed on his own terms.
Since leaving government, Noem has landed on her feet in at least two ways. She now serves as Special Envoy for the Shield of the Americas at the State Department, and she has taken an advisory role with a Canadian mining firm. But her political standing in South Dakota is uncertain. When her successor as governor, Larry Rhoden, cruised to renomination in last week's Republican gubernatorial runoff, Noem neither campaigned for him nor offered an endorsement.
Lewandowski's effort to return to Trump's good graces faces a complication that goes beyond personal drama. The Wall Street Journal reported last month that the DHS internal watchdog found evidence Lewandowski may have been involved in improperly awarding federal contracts during his time as a special government employee. The watchdog was weighing whether to send a criminal referral to the Justice Department for potential prosecution.
Lewandowski has denied wrongdoing. He has also denied allegations of affairs and inappropriate behavior that have trailed him for years. But the contract probe adds a layer of legal risk to what is already a fraught political position.
Republican strategists who spoke to the Post painted a portrait of a man who operates on proximity to power. One called Lewandowski "smart and calculating" and said he "never fully goes away." Another said Lewandowski "is looking for ways to get back in good with President Trump." A source familiar with his approach confirmed that Lewandowski "dines out" on having the president's ear, and that his government and public affairs firm, Lewandowski Strategic Advisors, depends on that access.
That access hit a wall during the 2024 campaign, when Lewandowski clashed with Susie Wiles, now the White House chief of staff. Lewandowski attempted to undermine Wiles while she was running Trump's successful presidential campaign, a move that earned him a powerful adversary inside the West Wing. The White House did not respond to requests for comment on Lewandowski's current standing with the president.
Sources told the Post that Lewandowski and Noem harbor ambitions that end with Noem occupying the Oval Office. A Senate race against Thune in 2028 would be a logical stepping stone, a chance for Noem to rebuild her political brand in a state where Trump remains popular and where the incumbent Republican leader is deeply unpopular with the party's base.
But Noem carries baggage of her own. One Republican strategist described her in a single word: "Toxic." Her tenure at DHS ended in public embarrassment. Her 2024 memoir drew national ridicule for a passage about shooting a "dangerous" family dog. The Lake Minnetonka photos revived tabloid interest in her personal life at a moment when she needs to project seriousness.
Meanwhile, the leadership overhaul at DHS that followed Noem's departure has continued, a reminder that the department she led remains in transition. Her record there is not one she can easily run on.
Thune, for his part, has the advantages of incumbency and the majority leader's gavel. But a 28 percent approval rating in his home state is a number that invites challengers, and Lewandowski is the kind of operative who knows how to exploit exactly that kind of weakness.
Whether Noem actually runs is an open question. Whether Lewandowski is positioning her to run is not. The podcast interview, the public appearances, the refusal to endorse Rhoden, and the pointed comments about Thune's vulnerability all point in one direction.
When a political operative with a federal contract probe hanging over his head and a fired cabinet secretary at his side starts talking about "the will of the voters," the voters in question ought to ask whose will is really being served.