Saying Harris ran a good campaign or that she did her best given the circumstances is reductive, and angrily blaming our fellow Americans for this loss instead of motivated by this failure is futile.
Before dismissing this as an ex-post attack on a historic candidate, or writing me off for scrambling to excuse the gross oversights that leave people across the country trying to cope with the prospect of our next four years; hear me out.
By now you will have read more comprehensive articles written by more qualified people than me, to discern some clarity from this maddening election year. I dare to say mine differs. Like any overeager political science major, I immediately had opinions on this election outcome, and I’m biased and self-centered enough (I’m a poli-sci student) to believe that my opinion and perspective are unique and valuable. So before you read on, I write as someone who watched my parents toil for citizenship, vote in every election, and be repeatedly taken for granted by the leaders they elevated. I navigate two worlds: a campus of friends who sip overpriced Boba, content in a liberal arts bubble, and a home 15 miles outside the city, surrounded by “America first” banners. A home where I speak Punjabi, not English, acutely aware of my parents’ sacrifices to provide this life.
On July 21st, when President Biden ended his re-election bid, two critical oversights emerged: many attributed his concession solely to his age and underperformance in the first presidential debate, overlooking his struggles in Michigan, while few emphasized the importance of defining a fresh platform and campaign strategy. A majority of democrats easily made SNLesque criticisms of Biden’s speech and mannerisms, in favor of a younger, more spunky candidate equipped to go soundbite for soundbite with Trump.In this context, Harris seemed a logical successor to Biden’s $1.2 billion campaign fund and presumably loyal blue base. However, assuming a leadership swap could maintain party momentum was a misstep. Moreover, labeling Harris as a more progressive candidate largely stemmed from her identity rather than her policies. Can you recall a single instance where Harris took a more left-leaning stance than Biden? However, because she was a younger woman of color this appealed to the idealized voter demographic, which for reasons unclear was young liberal voters—a base already solidified since the 2020 presidential election when approximately 55 percent of voters aged 18 to 29 participated, majority voting blue. So with this democratic turnout solidified, why beat a dead horse?
Is Kamala brat?
Did you fall out of a coconut tree? Do you exist in the context?
Is Momala serving c*nt?
Touch grass. Please.
After Harris rose to the ticket, her teen led social media account, “KamalaHQ” gained traction amassing five million plus followers across TikTok, Instagram, and X. KamalaHQ showcases irrelevant Trump slander, celebrity endorsements, and half-baked edits of politicians; all of which only exacerbate how disconnected party leadership has become. Why do we need endorsements from unqualified singer-songwriters? My 16-year-old sister’s persuasive essay on the demerits of school uniforms employs more logos than these disingenuous appeals. This campaign strategy prioritized engaging chronically online, metropolitan, educated teens while neglecting rural, middle-aged workers—the very voters Harris needed to mobilize. After Biden’s withdrawal left her the presumptive Democratic nominee, the surge in digital attention should’ve been used to launch her campaign platform. Instead, it was squandered as thousands of Americans tuned in to CNN, watching bewildered anchors compare a trending hyper-pop album to a presidential candidate. Such marketing needed to follow the KISS principle; over-explaining “the bit” only drains momentum. My point isn’t to dismiss the value of pop-culture-driven clickbait, but it’s not persuading anyone to change their mind. In comparison, Trump effectively engaged the previously under-registered demographic of rural young white male conservatives through targeted digital outreach. A quick scroll through Trump’s TikTok reveals a more policy-focused campaign, with thumbnails like “Grocery prices have exploded—I will fix this,” offering even opposing voters a clearer platform than one centered on internet memes. Pinned videos from key battlegrounds like Asheville, NC—a symbol of the current administration’s shortcomings—demonstrate a broader, more inclusive approach. This stands in stark contrast to Harris’ narrower digital presence, which lacks the same effort to actively earn votes, instead appearing to assume entitlement to them. One candidate sought to connect with traditionally overlooked audiences, while the other leaned heavily on brain-rot humor. My dad, a healthcare worker in the office 60 hours a week, was called a racial slur as he was saving lives today. He doesn’t care whether “Kamala is brat”; I promise the 9-5 US postal worker who yelled at him doesn’t either.
My dad, a healthcare worker in the office 60 hours a week, was called a racial slur as he was saving lives today.
Following Harris’ undemocratic appointment as nominee, she adhered closely to Biden’s established platform—reproductive freedom, child tax credits, and common-sense gun laws. While reinvention isn’t necessary, truly successful candidates distinguish themselves, something Harris failed to do. By mirroring Biden, she positioned herself as merely another blue alternative to Trump rather than a compelling leader with individual plans for change. If this election proves anything, it’s that “not being Trump” isn’t enough—you need to stand for something distinct. Democrats, knowing by 2022 that Trump would lead the rival ticket, missed the opportunity to craft a strong counter-campaign, instead running an incumbent’s campaign without the incumbent. The Harris campaign made a point of emphasizing her identity as a Black and South Asian woman, hoping this would galvanize marginalized demographics to vote blue. However, this identity-focused strategy backfired, as it overshadowed her policy initiatives and stalled her initial momentum, with headlines fixating on the pronunciation of her name rather than substantive issues. While Harris undoubtedly faced bias, her primary challenge was not a racist electorate but an over-reliance on her ethnic background, failing to address the rightward shift within POC communities. Americans face horizontal economic inequalities often overlooked by Democrats in favor of purely social issue based campaigns. And let’s face it: being worried about social issues as a primary voting standard is a privilege.
A hard truth no one wants to confront is that Donald Trump spoke to people in a way Kamala Harris did not. Despite being widely recognized as racist and sexist, Trump’s rhetoric mattered little to voters who saw the alternative as the destruction of their livelihoods. For much of middle America, the priority is living comfortably within their means, not marginalizing others based on identity. As in 2016, the working class abandoned a Democratic Party that consistently campaigns on promises of betterment but reinforces a punishing status quo once in office. This election demonstrated that hollow pledges—like raising the minimum wage or guaranteeing reproductive freedom—are no longer enough, especially when these promises are sidelined after victory. Harris’s choice to prioritize celebrity endorsements, like campaigning with billionaire Mark Cuban, over engaging with figures like automotive union leader Shawn Fain exemplified this disconnect, further cementing the perception of elitism within the Democratic Party.
Americans face horizontal economic inequalities often overlooked by Democrats in favor of purely social issue based campaigns.
Another misstep by establishment Democrats following Biden’s exit was alienating Arab Americans and pro-Palestinian voters. Despite Biden’s victory in Michigan’s primary, 100,000 voters chose “uncommitted,” signaling dissatisfaction with his stance on the Israel-Hamas conflict. Though this protest garnered headlines, the Democratic Party largely dismissed it, tokenizing the movement rather than addressing its concerns—a costly oversight. The 100,000 uncommitted votes in August were significant, especially in Dearborn, Michigan—home to the largest Muslim/MENA diaspora in the U.S.—where general election returns showed a clear lack of support for Harris. Her actions, from trivializing genocide and barring Palestinian speakers at the DNC to forcibly removing peaceful protesters from campaign events with the dismissive remark, “if you want Donald Trump to win, then [protest]. Otherwise, I’m speaking,” created an environment of hostility toward Palestinian Americans. This was further exacerbated by the Democratic Party’s decision to send Bill Clinton to campaign in Michigan. Clinton alienated Arab Americans, saying it “ought to be enough” that Harris promised a ceasefire—despite her full endorsement of Biden’s actions in Israel. With 67% of voters supporting a ceasefire and arms embargo on Israel, it would’ve served Democrats to honor promises of peace in office. Genocide is costly, this time it helped cost Democrats the election. Perhaps this will encourage the party to earn votes rather than resort to threats, but many are already reverting to old patterns of blaming fellow Americans for not blindly supporting their blue-ticket. A scroll through X on November 6th yielded a barrage of “I hope Trump turns Gaza into a parking lot now!” This intrinsic ability to scapegoat marginalized communities instead of turning inward in reflection is reprehensible. Harsh critique of the party is necessary for constructive reflection; Democratic campaigning is broken, it is imperative to fix it.
Trump will not be a president for me and my family, yet in a different way, neither would Harris. Harris spoke about reproductive justice but never used her platform to support the Missouri reproductive freedom initiative, for which I knocked on 500 doors just to get on the ballot. She called for peace in Israel then categorically dismissed the genocide of my people. Now, despite my vote, the flames of wider racial discrimination that lick the walls of my home in my own neighborhood have been fanned. So please don’t take me for an apologist of Trump supporters, or someone taking pleasure in this lengthy “I told ya so”. Take this as I intend: an opinionated analysis of a party’s follies with hopes of a reformative future. Take me as I am: someone who believes substantive institutional change can come only from recognizing and remedying these mistakes with goals of sustainable progress, not immediate gains.
Noor Huda ‘27 studies in the College of Arts & Sciences. She can be reached at h.noor@wustl.edu.