Growing up in South Vietnam during the 1970s, Rep. Quang Nguyen recognized the threat his country’s neighbor — North Vietnam — presented to his home.

Six days before the April 30, 1975, fall of Saigon, Nguyen’s father, who served in the South Vietnamese army, packed up Nguyen and his older brother and drove them to an airfield in a jeep gifted to their family by troops Nguyen’s father had served with.

Had he stayed in the country a week longer, Nguyen isn’t sure if he would have survived.

“I was born before the war and I left six days before the end of the war. I lived through that whole, entire war,” the Prescott Valley Republican said. “It builds character. If you survive, you just have to understand that, number one, God loves you. Number two: There’s some luck along the way.”

As chairman of the House Judiciary Committee, Nguyen holds a powerful position in the Arizona Legislature. His committee handles criminal justice, gun policy and constitutional issues. In his leadership role, he decides which bills get hearings and move forward, carrying more influence than rank-and-file legislators. He is also visible in gun rights advocacy and in legislation on law and order, border security and fentanyl, making him influential within the state’s Republican policy agenda.

Nguyen is running for reelection in Arizona’s first legislative district. If elected, the upcoming term would be the last he could serve in the House consecutively because of the state’s term limit law. He said he isn’t considering switching chambers to the Senate.

“Hopefully by the end of my eighth year, which is the end of 2028, I can walk away and say that’s all I could do,” Nguyen said. “I can’t do any more.”

A new life and passion 

As a 12-year-old, Nguyen, now 63, had no idea what was about to happen to his home country or where he was going. It was a normal morning for him when he left for school, but that afternoon was anything but ordinary when he got to that airfield with his brother.

“From a distance, you could see a C-130 waiting with a lot of people lining up to go, and he [my father] said, ‘You’re getting on that C-130 and you may or may not ever see us again,’” Nguyen recalled. “He handed each of us a bag of clothes and that was it. I never got to say goodbye to my siblings at home, never got the chance to say goodbye to my mom. My mom kept a pretty straight face because when I walked to school that morning, there was no indication from either my mom or dad, especially my mom, that I wouldn’t see her again.”

Nguyen eventually reunited with his parents after they fled South Vietnam on a barge the day before the fall of Saigon. His parents experienced a similar journey to the United States. But in 1975, without modern communication devices, he and his brother were left not knowing what happened to those back home while U.S. officials worked — using written communications — to reconnect family members who had been split apart. 

“By God’s grace, somehow we reconnected, but it wasn’t an amazing journey. It taught me that a lot of people died for my freedom. On both sides, the South Vietnamese people fought and died, and unfortunately, 58,000 Americans also died for that,” Nguyen said.

The aircraft Nguyen boarded eventually took him to Guam and then Travis Air Force Base in California. Nguyen, who couldn’t speak a word of English, found himself in a strange environment. He had never seen a school bus before and he remained quiet in the classroom because of the language barrier. 

School would help him learn English and he became a U.S. citizen in 1983, two years before he graduated from high school and headed to California State University, Long Beach, to study electrical engineering. He later discovered a passion for art — something he proudly shows off on social media through his sketches and paintings. 

Despite his love for art, he realized that Vincent van Gogh died a pauper and that he should pursue a more financially secure career. After college, he worked as a contractor at the American aerospace company Northrop Grumman, where he helped engineer military planes. 

He credits his creative side with helping him work successfully with a Democratic governor. “As an artist, you think outside the box all the time,” Nguyen said of his attempts to persuade Gov. Katie Hobbs to sign his bills.

It wasn’t until Nguyen moved from California to Prescott in the late 2000s that he got involved with local politics. He attended GOP events where he bumped shoulders with key Republican officials, including former state Senate President Karen Fann and former House Speaker Andy Tobin.

In 2019, former Speaker Rusty Bowers and Fann encouraged Nguyen to run for office — a recommendation he regarded as a high honor. 

In an email to the Arizona Capitol Times sent from Brussels, where Bowers is doing missionary work for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, the former lawmaker said he and his wife, Donetta, feel blessed that he lost his 2010 congressional race to U.S. Rep. Paul Gosar because it allowed Bowers to win the “prize” of meeting Nguyen in the back room of a western clothing store in Prescott’s town square. 

The Bowers and the Nguyens have formed a familial bond. “Our children also became their fast friends, and now my kids compete saying that Quang loves them best,” Bowers wrote.

From biker to lawmaker 

Nguyen met his wife, Mai, in 1987 after his girlfriend dumped him. The new couple did a lot of motorcycle riding together — a passion he’s carried throughout his adult life. 

Nguyen often rides his 2001 Honda CBR929RR sportbike the 90 miles from his Prescott Valley home to the state Capitol. With all the miles he’s put on the bike, he relaxes by tinkering on it in his garage when he gets a break from his legislative duties. The father of two gave up riding after his children were born but his wife, a nurse for the Prescott Unified School District, agreed to let him ride again when the kids became adults. 

Nguyen’s secret to a happy marriage? Laughter.

“I found out that in a relationship you should laugh a lot,” Nguyen said. “My wife laughs all the time and I try to make her laugh every day.”

A former Baptist, Nguyen says his wife introduced him to Catholicism, the faith he now practices. 

Nguyen’s son is a graduate of the University of Portland and works as a representative for Cigna clients; his daughter serves in the U.S. Navy.

It was Fann, Bowers said, who thought of the idea to persuade Nguyen to run for office. They knew it could be a tough race for him — an immigrant in Yavapai County with no previous political experience — but they had faith. 

Even as an established House member who has won reelection three times, Nguyen has faced racist attacks. In July 2025, a Prescott news website run by former Republican lawmaker David Stringer published an AI-generated image depicting Nguyen stealing and eating pets, titled “Going to the Dogs.” 

Other cartoon-like images posted on Stringer’s website, Prescott eNews, intentionally misspelled Nguyen’s first name, suggested he couldn’t read English and accused him of lying about his citizenship. Stringer did not respond to a request for comment.

Overcoming the insults

In 2022, Republican then-Gov. Doug Ducey signed a bill sponsored by Nguyen that requires high school students to learn about political ideologies that conflict with the United States’ founding principles of freedom and democracy — a measure that targeted communism. 

“I’m not offended by it,” Nguyen said of accusations that he himself is a communist. The lawmaker, who has also been called a far-right extremist, among other things, said what’s offensive is that the insults could extend to his children. 

“I am offended that you’re calling my daughter, a naval officer, born to a communist member,” he said. “Sometimes people don’t sit down and analyze before they yap.”

Nguyen said he’s faced criticism ranging from accusations of being a communist to claims he is a “far-right extremist,” as well as allegations that he is a member of the Oath Keepers — a group of former military and law enforcement members described as “anti-government” and “extremist” by the Southern Poverty Law Center. 

Following the Jan. 6, 2021, Capitol attack, in which some Oath Keepers members participated, the FBI called the group a paramilitary organization. In a phone interview, Nguyen denied membership in the organization and said he once had “Oath Keepers: Back the Blue” stickers on the back of his pickup truck, but only to signal to police officers that he was their ally if they needed help. 

Nguyen has also never served in the military or with law enforcement, so he said he can’t be a member of the organization. 

“That being said, I’ve raised my hand multiple times to be sworn in as an oath keeper, in terms of defending the oath of office and defending the U.S. and Arizona constitutions. I don’t belong to the organization at all,” Nguyen said. 

Bowers said he and Fann never doubted Nguyen could handle the hardships that sometimes come with being a lawmaker.

“We felt Quang had enough guts to take the beatings,” Bowers wrote in his email. “We knew it would be a great sacrifice for their family, but it was important to keep someone who was truly a thoughtful conservative in place, but also not a fake.”

Their belief in him paid off. In 2020, he won a 10-way primary race by a wide margin of about 7% of votes in his Legislative District 1, which covers Yavapai and Coconino counties. He’d go on to a comfortable general election win in his Republican-friendly district. 

“Nobody knew my name. Nobody knew how to pronounce my name. There were a lot of unknowns about me as a candidate, but I would go speak and I would tell people exactly who I am,” said Nguyen (pronounced as “nu-win” or “win”). When he was first elected he tried to balance his job as the founder of the marketing and branding agency Caddis Advertising with his new, $24,000-a-year job as a lawmaker. But he quickly found the challenge too difficult. 

“Eventually, I went from 15 clients down to three and then eventually down to one,” Nguyen said. “Then I had to give it up because the Legislature is so demanding.”

A quiet presence

Much like in his school days, Nguyen thought it was important to maintain a quiet presence in the Legislature and learn through observation. Although he didn’t vote with Bowers on every single bill, Bowers said Nguyen outworked his colleagues and remained his own man, true to his values and district. 

“He sat behind me on the floor and took lots of trash from the so-called Patriot Party. He is 10 times the patriot that any of those guys were, and he learned quickly that lips move fast, but truth takes it slow,” Bowers said in his email from Brussels. “He reads all the bills. He puts them through his filters and if they don’t make it, too bad. He says to your face what he thinks, not behind your back. … He has been in the streets to see people machine-gunned. He has been through the fire — literally. To me, that is an invaluable experience.”

During Nguyen’s second term in the House, Republican then-Speaker Ben Toma assigned him to chair the powerful House Judiciary Committee — a role he still holds. 

Nguyen has successfully advanced several measures into law, including a ban on sex dolls resembling minors, a five-year mandatory sentence for fentanyl dealers handling at least 200 grams and expanded access to national criminal records for the Department of Public Safety. He has also emphasized his role in blocking numerous gun control proposals introduced by Democratic lawmakers. 

The Legislature’s most important duty — and its only constitutionally required one — is to pass the state budget. Nguyen has had a significant influence on that, too. Throughout his tenure, he’s helped secure more than $70 million for law enforcement, veterans and public roads. 

This session, he’s sponsoring a $20 million spending bill to support local law enforcement efforts at the U.S.-Mexico border. Arizona Sheriffs’ Association President David Clouse said the bill is a high priority for sheriffs, many of whom backed a similar bill last year that appropriated $17 million. 

Clouse said the increased funding helped dismantle a covert money laundering operation at a barbecue joint in Yavapai County — Nguyen’s district. “We know all things come down to the budget and dollars, and there’s all these competing priorities, but your $20 million did this in one little county, or parts of that $20 million,” Clouse said he tells lawmakers. 

One of the more controversial appropriations Nguyen secured came in 2023, when the state budget allocated $15 million for the organization behind the Prescott Frontier Days rodeo. The funding was later struck down in court as unconstitutional, with a judge finding it violated the state’s gift clause. But the money didn’t disappear for long — in 2025, Republicans revived the effort, this time routing the funds to the City of Prescott for rodeo grounds maintenance and repairs, a workaround designed to pass legal muster.

For Nguyen, finding ways to get past the hurdles comes from a life of observing before acting.

“I still am an introvert. That’s why you don’t see me standing up on the floor, yapping 17 times a day,” Nguyen said. “I came to the Legislature, same thing: Just shut up and listen — you’ll pick up something.”

ABOUT QUANG NGUYEN

Age: 63

Hometown: Prescott Valley, Arizona

Education: California State University, Long Beach (BA)

Career highlights: He sponsored House Bill 2607, a 2025 measure that imposes enhanced sentencing for fentanyl dealers and traffickers. Also, high schools in Arizona must include an “anti-communism” curriculum in social studies classes as a result of House Bill 2008, signed into law during the 2022 legislative session.

Known for: His gun rights advocacy, riding a motorcycle to the Capitol and creating artwork.

Influence factor: He serves as chairman of the House Judiciary Committee.