Biden drops out, Harris steps up and the U.S. presidential race gets heated
There is no better word to describe U.S. politics right now than “volatile.”
The roller coaster ride began with the presidential debate in June, in which President Joe Biden had a dismal performance, dismaying his followers and fueling concern that his age would hamper his ability to defeat the Republican nominee, former President Donald Trump.
A failed assassination attempt against Trump earlier this month confirmed his supporters’ belief that he was divinely inspired and protected, adding a new level of enthusiasm to his official nomination the following week at his party’s convention. For many of them, this invincibility, combined with Biden’s age and infirmity, made Trump’s victory in November a certainty.
Fearful that his performance not only jeopardized his chances in that ballot, but those of Democrats in other races too, Biden dropped out of the race last weekend and endorsed Vice President Kamala Harris to replace him on the ticket. That move reinvigorated his party and transformed election dynamics. Polls, however, showed little movement. With just over 100 days until the election, there is plenty of time for more surprises. This race is just heating up.
Biden’s stunning decision to abandon his reelection campaign looks inevitable in retrospect. His efforts to remedy the impact of his debate performance instead reaffirmed fears that he was unable to effectively campaign and govern for a full term if he won.
Senior members of his party were reported to have conveyed their anxieties to the president and observers noted a growing number of Democratic Congress members from the all-important swing states were calling on him to step aside. They were worried that Biden was undermining their support as well and jeopardizing the party’s chances in the legislature, which would be critical to check a second Trump administration.
Despite great resistance, Biden accepted that his record was not enough to run on and the race demanded a different politician, one with more energy and vigor. Last Sunday, in a move that only a handful of his closest advisers knew was coming, Biden announced that he would be relinquishing the Democratic nomination. Thirty minutes later, in a separate statement, he offered “my full support and endorsement” for Vice President Kamala Harris.
While a surprise, the Biden decision was not unprecedented. Several U.S. presidents were content with a single term; most recently, Harry Truman and Lyndon Johnson demurred on a reelection bid, in both cases because they faced likely defeat.
In an address this week, Biden explained that “I revere this office, but I love my country more.” Warning that “nothing can come in the way of saving our democracy,” he said that he “decided the best way forward is to pass the torch to a new generation,” to make room for “fresh voices, yes, younger voices.”
The party quickly rallied behind Harris, largely silencing calls for an open race to replace Biden. Party grandees, both serving and retired, announced their support for the new front-runner; perhaps more important, so too did virtually all other presumed possible candidates.
Significantly, donors responded, with the party reportedly raising more than $250 million in the four days following Biden’s announcement of his departure from the race. The Harris campaign highlighted that many of them were first-time donors, a sign of renewed enthusiasm for her candidacy.
That interest was likely behind the readiness of Democratic party delegates, previously committed to Biden, to back Harris. Within a day, her campaign said that it had secured enough delegates to replace Biden on the ticket. This should be no surprise. Their previous commitment to the incumbent implied support for Kamala as his replacement if that contingency were to arise; that is part of the vice president’s role.
Polls show that the race is tightening, but there have been no big changes. That is to be expected. Harris is being discovered by many voters who have not already made up their minds about this contest. The next few weeks will be critical to crafting her image and the issues that define the campaign.
Her first big decision is that of a running mate. At this moment, the conventional wisdom is to expect a White male, perhaps a governor, to provide balance to the ticket. (Two White men on a ticket are fine; any other person as nominee requires reversion to that norm.) The current front-runners are Kentucky Gov. Andy Beshear, Pennsylvania Gov. Josh Shapiro and Arizona Sen. Mark Kelly. Shapiro and Kelly come from vital swing states; Beshear is a popular Democrat in what is thought to be traditional Trump country.
Harris has already made clear the central theme of her campaign: the sharp contrast between herself and Trump. She will start with the age card, seeking to turn earlier Republican complaints about Biden against their party’s nominee and then move to issues. She will lean heavily into her career as a prosecutor and California attorney general, contrasting that with Trump’s history of disregard for the law.
Republicans already charge that Harris is a “diversity hire” who climbed the ranks because of her status as a multiracial woman rather than her skills or abilities. That line of attack is risky since it could quickly devolve into sexism or racism. (It also ignores her career in California, the U.S. Senate and as vice president.) The centrality of abortion to the 2024 election, as has been the case in every race since the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade in 2022, makes sexist attacks in particular a dangerous line to pursue.
U.S. voters — and much of the world — had a hard time accepting that the 2024 contest would be a rerun of the 2020 ballot, albeit with both candidates four years older, making them the two oldest in U.S. history. Both sides sought to boost enthusiasm for their man, painting a victory for the other as a threat to the country: Biden, Republicans claimed, would usher in socialism and the diversification of the nation in ways that would destroy it; Trump, Democrats insisted, was a proto-fascist who wanted to turn the clock back to the 1950s, create a Christian nationalist state and tear up the Constitution in the process. Biden’s replacement has not stopped either line of attack.
The apocalyptic language has rallied supporters, but it isn’t good for the nation. While it has fueled fears that it would stoke violence — and it is hard not to draw a line from this rhetoric to the attack on the U.S. Congress on Jan. 6, 2021 — it is important to acknowledge that the motives of the person who tried to shoot Trump remain unknown. Significantly, the harsh language hollows out the center, making compromise, the essence of democratic governance, more difficult, if not impossible. It is hard to make deals with the devil.
The depopulating of the center does mean that changes of government, a natural and proper part of democracy, can and often do signal big changes in policy. Traditionally, foreign policy has been insulated from those shifts, a reflection of the fact that governments may change but national interests do not. The rhetoric suggests that this year may be an exception to that rule. Japan must prepare for that eventuality.
JT