Where Did It All Go Wrong For Kamala Harris?

There is truth in all of this, but this last critique touches a raw nerve. Can we take a minute to look back at the odds that were stacked against the first Black woman to come within touching distance of the presidency? She endured a smear campaign that was misogynist, racist, and often plain absurd. She was not Black enough – ‘Indian all the way, and then all of a sudden she…became a Black person,’ claimed Trump, incidentally not known for his nuance on racial identities. She was too Black, according to some Republicans, and hence only running as a ‘diversity hire’.

Then there was the claim that Harris was responsible for the incarceration of more than 1000 people, many Black men, for marijuana offences during her tenure as prosecutor. That claim was revealed to have been circulated by her opponents and to be deeply misleading. But not before it had done its damage with the Black vote, especially in urban centres. CNN exit polls show that while Harris did carry 86% of the Black vote, that figure is lower than Biden’s four years ago, when he won over Black voters by 92%.

Let’s not forget also that Harris was not fertile enough, not miserable enough, not bad enough at dancing. While these attacks against her ranged from the sublime to the ridiculous, they were perfectly familiar for many black women: that moment you realise nothing you do is good enough, because it’s the very fact of your existence some people find triggering.

The way Harris even became the Democratic candidate reflects the ongoing barriers faced by women in politics. It’s no coincidence that she found opportunity after Biden dropped out mid-race. When she ran in her own right in 2019, the view was that America wasn’t ready for a female candidate. Something similar happened to Britain’s first female leader, Margaret Thatcher, who became leader of her party in opposition. A female leader ‘won’t happen in the normal course of events,’ predicted Gerald Ford in 1989. He was right then, and is still right now.

Of course there was nothing normal about this election. Many of us followed it obsessively, even though we couldn’t vote. Maybe that’s because it reflects a deeper malaise with which we are all grappling. Our democracies aren’t working. Income inequality is obscene. Climate crisis is existential. Our elected officials are endorsing, and funding, conflicts like the war on Gaza, that meet the basic test for genocide, ignoring our protests, showing how little we really can hold them to account.

For this reason, many of us, who should have been Harris’ most enthusiastic supporters, instead approached her campaign with a heavy heart. I remember 2008 when, in my early twenties, I thought Obama’s victory would change the world. And it did change my perception of what a competent, gracious, eloquent leader can look like. Global injustice remained the same.

I wanted her to win anyway. I hoped to live in a world in which a Black woman can be president of the US, with all the historic symbolism that contains. I hoped that we might then become better at seeing past the symbolism, and asking hard questions: why do we think it’s enough to have the person we relate to in power, without asking what that power means?

That’s a question for every voter, of every political persuasion. If there is any silver lining in Trump's victory, it’s that asking those questions becomes so much easier. The hope of a Black woman president may be gone. But so is any danger of complacency.

Afua Hirsch is a British writer and broadcaster. She has worked as a journalist for The Guardian newspaper, and was the Social Affairs and Education Editor for Sky News from 2014 until 2017. She has also written for The Observer, The Evening Standard, Vogue, Prospect and i.