Once again, the curtains drew on the political theatre, putting President Joe Biden in the shadows, as President-elect Donald Trump takes the stage. Compared to Biden, though, Kamala Harris seems even more distant, notably lacking any consistent public appearance since conceding defeat to Trump. Her public appearances could be counted on fingers, accompanying Biden to Arlington Cemetery on Veterans Day, playing the role of a ceremonial figure at White House events and holiday gatherings, and unfortunately, accepting her defeat as she will preside over her own joint congressional loss, a fate only shared by Richard Nixon and Al Gore.
Harris, who made her mark as San Francisco’s district attorney 24 years ago, will soon be joining the ranks of private citizens. She will be facing the critical crossroads that every defeated candidate has to confront: To take another shot at the presidency or not? However, history is not in her favor. Since the 1890s, only the likes of Nixon and Trump have managed to win the Presidency after a prior defeat.
Before Harris can dream of the White House again, she must first tackle a political question closer to home, that is, whether she should vie for California’s governorship in 2026. With the exit of Democrat Gavin Newsom due to term-limits, the field is charged with candidates. High-profile Democrats, including Lt. Gov. Eleni Kounalakis, a close ally of Harris, and two other statewide officeholders, are already in the fray.
A poll taken before Harris’s presidential loss indicated her possible strength in the governorship race, particularly within the Democratic ranks. It suggested a welcome reception, with nearly half of the voters sampled likely supporting her. The support from the Democratic fold was even higher, with a noteworthy three out of four choosing her as their candidate.
History might offer limited solace for Harris here. After Nixon’s narrow loss in the 1960 Presidential race, he attempted to rekindle his presidential dreams via the governor’s seat. He was defeated by Democratic Gov. Pat Brown in 1962, but he was able to restore his national status by reviving the GOP after the 1964 defeat, eventually capturing the White House in 1968.
Nixon was fortunate to receive strong party support at that critical junction in his career, a factor that holds less weight today. He also benefited from the procrastination of two strong potential adversaries, Govs. Nelson Rockefeller of New York and Ronald Reagan of California, who delayed entering the race until the end. For Harris, running for governor feels more like a retreat strategy to stay relevant in public service than a concrete path to the Presidency.
If Harris manages to get elected as Governor, she would find it challenging to pivot for the Presidential race just two years later. By 2032, however youthful she may look, the Democratic Party would almost certainly be looking for fresher faces. Any loss in the gubernatorial contest would also deepen concerns about her viability as a candidate in any future races.
Reflecting on the previous campaign, Harris’s performance was enthusiastic, albeit under challenging circumstances. Unfortunately, her defeat, following eight years after Hillary Clinton’s loss to Trump, sparked renewed speculation about the nation’s readiness to elect a woman as President.
If Harris dared to plunge into the race again in 2028, she would be facing a formidable line-up of younger and vibrant Democratic contenders. This includes Democrats with growing national profiles such as Govs. Gretchen Whitmer of Michigan, Josh Shapiro of Pennsylvania, J.B. Pritzker of Illinois and Wes Moore of Maryland, and Reps. Ro Khanna of California and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez of New York.
Upon surrendering the 2024 election to Trump, Harris tried to keep her political flame alive by pledging continued political activism. She declared that even though she concedes the election, she refuses to concede the fight that inspired her campaign—the battle for freedom, opportunity, fairness, and human dignity—even though this clearly resonates very little with the people.
Essentially, she passionately committed herself to a fight that had a resounding no from the public, and her promise to ‘never give up’ seems more like ignoring the message from the voters who have clearly chosen another path.
One can only wonder if Harris mistakenly takes voter rejection as a sign of encouragement to continue her political career. The sentiment of the public is simple, it’s not a call for a rematch. Instead, it’s a resounding statement that their choice for leadership does not lie with her.
For Kamala Harris, the sound of the clock ticks louder, nudging her towards the imminent decision of trying again with all her might or graciously bowing out. The latter option, oftentimes, is an arena where true leadership is shown, demonstrating respect for the democratic process and the voice of the people.
Ultimately, in the shadows of defeat and ridicule, the question of seeking public service again becomes a testament to one’s ability to discern their true purpose and intent. With the gaze of the nation on her, Harris stands at a crossroads caught between listening to the will of the people or simply relishing in the comforts of her political ego.
While the political future remains unknown for Harris, she would do well to remember that simply fighting for a failed cause doesn’t make one a fighter, but more of an isolated figure, unable to respond to the country’s needs and aspirations. Only time will tell if she chooses to listen to the people or just to the echoes of her ambitions.