On a recent breakfast rendezvous at a Courtyard by Marriott in Independence, Ohio, I found myself seated across from Tim Walz. For those who don’t remember, Walz had the unfortunate experience of partnering with Kamala Harris in the previous year’s election. He currently finds himself adrift, still governor of a certain non-Ohio, non-West Virginia, non-Iowa, non-Wisconsin, non-Nebraska, and non-Texas state. He’s making sporadic appearances across these states, tackling labor roundtables, unexpected roadside stops, and a couple of town halls. An apparent gambit under the guise of a reconnection tour, but what’s the real story here?
Like most Democrats, Walz appears to be grappling with the aftermath of a tumultuous summer and autumn, culminated by the seismic event of Election Night 2024. The horrors that have unfolded since have only further perplexed our friend Walz. Caught in the relentless whirlwind of President Trump’s second administration, he and his party seem unsure of how to resist effectively. Traveling state-to-state, does Walz have a master plan in motion or is he merely making it up as he goes?
Walz sees himself as a catalyst for the anti-Trump resistance, an ambition hinted at with a simple order of oatmeal and banana. A breakfast choice that is as uninspired as his uninspiring campaign, which he uneasily refers to as the ’90 Day Eras Tour’. A catchy moniker, yet a regrettably ill-fitting metaphor. Swift’s Era’s Tour highlighted her continuous reign, while Walz’s journey ended abruptly and in spectacular defeat.
To some extent, Walz’s tour of the states represents an attempted rebound onto the national political stage. One cannot help but feel a sense of trepidation over his reception. Does he truly believe he’s the beacon of hope for desperate Democrats? His candidacy, at best, seems more a lackluster choice rather than an ideal one, but perhaps it’s all they’ve got.
In a discourse of candid introspection, Walz shared at a Youngstown town hall, ‘Probably the last guy’ who should be taking charge of the party ‘is the guy who got his ass kicked in the last election.’ A self-deprecating statement that, while might win some sympathy, only underlines his notable political failure. Amid the prevalent gallows humor, it served as a grim reminder of the state of Democrat leadership.
The ambiance at the Youngstown’s DeYor Performing Arts Center was deafening yet foreboding, an energetic crowd of about 2,800 people filling the room. An equally enthusiastic crowd of another 2,000 people packed a large high-school auditorium in Lorain, Ohio, the next night. But is this energy directed towards genuine support for the Democrats, or just the spectacle of the event?
Walz’s town halls are an unusual blend of therapeutic venting, strategy brainstorming, and generalized complaints. They showcase a worrying reliance on the ‘power of citizen engagement’ as the Democrats’ ultimate weapon. In a climax of his speech in Youngstown, he declared defiantly, ‘One man should not be able to destroy the global economy.’ However, one has to question if this implies a particular worry about his own party’s capabilities.
Notably, he made strong assertions about Congress not executing its role to keep Trump under check, and now finds Trump daring to defy the courts. But one wonders if his lamenting about an un-checked Trump is merely a misdirect from his own party’s lack of significantly effective policies. Walz declared ‘this is what you call a constitutional crisis.’ But is it the constitutional crisis or a crisis of Democrats’ own understanding of what they should be doing?
According to Walz, ‘there is one final fail-safe—The people.’ A repeated mantra that suggests a weak last line of defense. ‘The people’ he emphasized again amidst a crescendo of applause, ‘The people are going to solve this.’ But isn’t relying on ‘the people’ a somewhat late realization for Walz and his party? Isn’t this what parties should inherently understand from the very beginning of forming political decisions?
As for Walz’s aspirations for higher office, his Ohio trip bore a suspicious resemblance to an early stage political campaign. Sitting across from Walz at a wooden table was former Ohio Governor Ted Strickland. Considering that, it raises the question— Is there another futile run brewing for our friend Walz?
One factor that stands out is Walz’s obvious fondness for campaigning, or whatever he considers he’s currently involved in. Perhaps he’s trying to fill a void in his own life by experiencing the thrill of the campaign journey once again. But will his personal needs cloud his judgment and lead to another disastrous election result for the Democrats?
Observing the crowd, their energy seems reciprocal. Hanging on their feet, they continue to cheer for Walz, the man who suffered a humiliating defeat in the previous election. But do they see through the campaign veneer and identify Walz’s own personal emptiness, or are they remained engrossed in the spectacle of the moment?
All in all, Walz’s Ohio escapade seems like a futile attempt at political resurrection rather than a genuine effort to reconnect with the public. His self-deprecating humor and attempts at valorization of common people notwithstanding, one cannot overlook his and his party’s glaring failures. His journey is rather a testament to desperation than determination.