Harris makes forceful speech – and skewers the menace from Mar-a-Lago
It was not a political address for the ages. It was not even the best of the convention (no one can compete with the Obamas). But Kamala Harris did enough in her speech accepting the Democratic presidential nomination on Thursday to put an exclamation mark on one of the most dramatic turnarounds in modern political history.
And she made you reflect that you would not want to be Donald Trump facing her in next month’s televised debate. A speech that was short on policy and poetry was nevertheless devastating in skewering the menace from Mar-a-Lago. Trump can expect the same kind of interrogation when the two go head to head that would make most mortals tremble.
Just over a month after Joe Biden exited the race and passed her the baton, this was the most important speech of Harris’s career as she sought to build on the momentum of huge crowds, record fundraising and viral phenomena on social media. Long in Biden’s shadow as vice-president, the primary objective was to make the American public comfortable with the notion of a President Harris regularly appearing on their screens.
Related: Kamala Harris pledges to ‘chart a new way forward’ as she accepts nomination
The Democratic national convention in Chicago had done fine work on that score with four days of high-energy speakers extolling Harris as an everywoman driven by service and combating injustice who gets the struggles of the middle class. Confident, graceful, forceful and charismatic, she put the icing on the cake, though perhaps not a substantial meal in its own right.
Every seat was taken in the United Center, home of the Chicago Bulls basketball team, with some delegates turned away at the door. Inside: a sea of humanity from all 50 states, multiracial and multigenerational, from teenagers set to vote for the first time to elderly party stalwarts who thought they had seen it all, some wearing their best suit and tie, others casual in t-shirts and regalia. Dotted among them were TV crews and photographers, security guards and stewards. The mood: eager, expectant, ecstatic, determined to blow the roof off.
Wearing navy and smiling broadly, Harris emerged on the blue carpeted stage at 9.31pm to thunderous cheers. She could see thousands of tall, narrow “Kamala” signs bouncing up and down and wristbands glinting red, white and blue in the darkness. She could also see, in the front row, husband Doug Emhoff and stepdaughter Ella Emhoff wiping tears from their eyes as the chants of “Kamala! Kamala!” and “USA! USA!” went on.
Harris followed the familiar playbook of so many nominees before her, sketching out a personal biography that is humanising and strikes a chord, embracing patriotism and the uniqueness of America, promising to be a president for all Americans whatever their affiliation.
But she moved up a gear in prosecuting the case against Trump. Recalling how Trump sent an armed mob to the US Capitol to overturn his election defeat, she warned: “Just imagine Donald Trump with no guardrails. How he would use the immense powers of the presidency of the United States. Not to improve your life. Not to strengthen our national security. But to serve the only client he has ever had: himself.”
And in a section on foreign policy, Harris vowed: “I will not cosy up to tyrants and dictators like Kim Jong-un, who are rooting for Trump because they know he is easy to manipulate with flattery and favours … In the enduring struggle between democracy and tyranny, I know where I stand – and where the United States of America belongs.”
The ascent of Harris has been startling. Some observers have been left wondering: how did a seemingly stumbling vice-president, who served up word salads and an even lower approval rating than Biden, explode on to the scene like no one since the heyday of Barack Obama?
There are three answers. First, there is Democratic relief that she is not 81-year-old Biden, whose miserable debate performance in June suggested that he was shuffling towards inevitable defeat.
Harris, 59, instantly neutralised Republicans’ age argument and weaponised it against them (Trump is 78, the oldest nominee in history). She is enjoying the best of both worlds, improbably both incumbent and change agent at the same time.
Second, it turns out that, like many women of colour before her, Harris had been underestimated and underrated this entire time. Yes, she had a rocky first year with staff departures and less than inspiring interviews about southern border security. But Biden allies now acknowledge that she was left exposed and they could have done more to help her.
Anita Dunn, a former senior adviser to Biden, told the Washington Post newspaper: “I did not feel that we served her as well as we could have at the beginning – and not through any malice, not because people didn’t want her to succeed. There wasn’t the level of understanding that she’s getting judged differently, she’s getting covered differently. Most vice presidents don’t get covered the way she did, with the same level of scrutiny.”
But when in 2022 the supreme court’s rightwing majority overturned Roe v Wade, guaranteeing the constitutional right to abortion, Harris found her calling – and her voice. She toured the country sharpening her message, often addressing students at universities under the radar of the national media. She steadily built alliances that are now coming into play. None of them was surprised when she hit the ground running with assured performances at campaign rallies.
Third, politics is all about timing and Harris looks like the right candidate at the right time. In 2016, Trump’s populism resonated with blue collar anxiety, grievance and resentment. In 2020, Biden’s empathy and firsthand of experience of grief met the moment of the coronavirus pandemic. In 2024, Harris is offering a Trump-weary nation joy instead of fear, ebullience instead of darkness, a smile instead a scowl. She comes with the promise to Make America Fun Again.
“With this election, our nation has a precious, fleeting opportunity to move past the bitterness, cynicism, and divisive battles of the past,” Harris told the convention. “A chance to chart a new way forward. Not as members of any one party or faction, but as Americans.”
These factors help explain why Harris has surged in the opinion polls in her first month. But that was the easy part. As both former presidents Obama and Bill Clinton warned during the convention, the election is far from over: energy must be converted into votes. A sugar high is not enough.
Pressure will grow on Harris to get more specific about policies, which could give Republicans a target, and explain her altered positions on many issues – what is Harris-ism? Can she bask in the the Biden’s administration’s historic legislative achievements while jettisoning her boss’s negative baggage?
There are already signs of a shift: where Biden talked of jobs and GDP growth, Harris speaks of the cost of living; where Biden focused relentlessly on Trump’s threat to democracy, Harris emphasises “freedom”, even in her use of a Beyonce song; where Biden painted Trump as a big, diabolical figure, this week’s convention has mocked his smallness, his ridiculousness and yes, his weirdness.
Then there is the issue of Gaza, which has simmered all convention. Harris carefully articulated staunch support for Israel’s right to defend itself but also a vision of the future in which the Palestinian people “can realise their right to dignity, security, freedom and self-determination”. The conventional hall erupted in prolonged cheering.
As a San Francisco lawyer, Harris will inevitably face charges of elitism from Republicans, just as Hillary Clinton did eight years ago, exacerbated by her dismissal of Trump supporters as “deplorables”. The convention has worked hard to neutralise that by emphasising Harris’s modest roots, including working shifts in McDonald’s, and her support from trade unions.
Harris said on Thursday: “It was mostly my mother who raised us. Before she could finally afford to buy a home, she rented a small apartment in the East Bay. In the Bay, you either live in the hills or the flatlands. We lived in the flats – a beautiful working-class neighborhood of firefighters, nurses, and construction workers, all who tended their lawns with pride.”
Her midwestern running mate Tim Walz, a former teacher whose students did not attend Yale, peppered his speech on Wednesday with references to his time as an American football coach.
And in an age when identity politics have become dirty words, Harris made no reference to the historic nature of her candidacy as the first Black woman and first Asian American person to become a major party nominee. It was very different from Clinton eight years ago and her vow to break “that highest, hardest glass ceiling”.
Harris’s speech lasted 37 minutes – just over a third of Trump’s at the Republican convention last month. It did not contain an especially memorable line, but that won’t matter. Stars and Stripes were waved in the crowd. A cascade of red, white and blue balloons and confetti descended. “Kamala” and “DNC 2024” flashed on digital screens.
Harris, who has still not put a foot wrong since Biden dropped out, was joined on stage by Emhoff, the Walzes and other family members. Whereas the Republican convention felt like a cult of personality, this felt like a collective effort.
“Now,” tweeted David Plouffe, a senior adviser to the Harris campaign, “let’s go win this fucking thing.”
