“Proud,” Kamala Harris said, lengthening the word and stretching her vowels. “PROUD!”
Donald Trump expressed great joy at choosing three of the Supreme Court justices who struck down the constitutional right to abortion, and now the vice president was using his own word — proud — to whip up a delivery room full of mocking Nevada Democrats. and they cheered.
“Proud,” she said. “Proud to take away the freedom of choice from millions of women and people in the United States.”
With that, his voice rose as if he could barely believe the statement leaving his lips.
“He speaks openly of his admiration for dictators,” Harris continued in the same astonished tone, while some in the audience murmured their disapproval. “Dictators imprison journalists. “Dictators suspend elections.”
“Dictators.” She emphasized every word. “Carry. Your. Rights.”
After a historic rise to the vice presidency and a humiliating descent into ridicule and disdain following her rocky start, Harris appears to have finally found her footing in a role she is accustomed to and adept at: prosecutor.
She has become a top fundraiser for Democrats, an emissary for groups that are lukewarm toward President Biden, particularly black and younger voters, and emerged as the administration's strongest voice on abortion. women's health and, as Harris puts it, the threat posed by Trump. to freedom and individual choice.
On a recent three-day tour of California and Nevada, he highlighted the abortion issue and urged Democrats to vote early ahead of Tuesday's Nevada primary.
“Do you believe in freedom?” the vice president shouted, and a crowd of about 300 supporters inside the brightly lit union hall shouted in affirmation. “Do you believe in democracy?”
“Are we prepared to fight for it? Because when we fight” (and here they joined Harris in a thunderous chorus) “we win!”
Columnist Mark Z. Barabak joins candidates for various offices as they hit the campaign trail in this momentous election year.
Her higher profile — as a cheerleader, a prosecutor, a pugilist — is something of a reboot after Harris's many early missteps and a series of endeavors, including immigration reform and border control, that seemed destined for failure.
Its purpose and usefulness changed when the Supreme Court issued its abortion decision in the Dobbs case in June 2022, overturning Roe v. Wade.
Although her approval ratings continue to languish, those in the vice president's orbit say she has become more confident in a capacity better suited to her skills as a former California district attorney and attorney general.
The abortion issue “takes advantage of her political background, her political values, her training and legal experience,” said Jamal Simmons, who worked for a year as Harris' communications director, until January 2023. “The issue is a comfort zone for her and since Dobbs she has done other things with greater confidence and skill.”
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The vice president's travels are intended to be as fluid as possible.
A caravan of cars several blocks long slides along highways closed to traffic and through city streets specially cleared for its passage. Guests applaud Harris' arrival and departure at the airport, and an aggressive squad of Secret Service agents keep reporters at bay.
Still, external events have a way of puncturing the bubble.
So the vice president seemed ready when protesters showed up in San Jose, where Harris appeared as part of her national “Fight for Reproductive Freedoms” tour. Several hundred patrons filled a large auditorium in the adobe-style Mexican Heritage Plaza as Harris answered questions graciously posed by actress Sophia Bush.
Protesters unfurled banners reading “Free Palestine” and “Cease Fire Now.” They repeatedly interrupted Harris, loudly condemning the Biden administration's support for Israel in its war against Hamas.
“You are complicit in genocide,” a young woman shouted from the fourth row before being escorted out of the auditorium as the crowd chanted “MVP!” “MVP!” – abbreviation for Madam Vice President.
Harris looked expressionless. Protest is a fundamental part of democracy, he said quietly. Everyone wants the conflict in the Middle East to end.
A second explosion followed. Moments later a third. “So,” Harris began, then paused for a long time. “There are many important issues affecting our world right now. Which rightly evokes very, very strong emotions, fears, anger and tears.
“Today's topic,” he continued, assuming the tone of an admonishing schoolteacher, “is the topic of what has happened in our country since the Dobbs decision… so I'm going to get back to it. Because it is important and we should not be distracted.”
At the fourth interruption, Harris simply paused and waited while a protester was taken away on the balcony. Fans chanted: “Four more years!” Then he picked up precisely where he left off mid-sentence, presenting his case against Trump and the conservative Supreme Court majority, as if nothing had happened.
Equanimity could well be part of the job description.
As the first female, Black, and Asian-American vice president, Harris has been the subject of extraordinary scrutiny and, with it, an outsized presumption of what she can plausibly accomplish.
The vice presidency is, and always has been, inherently limiting (there is no greater transgression than surpassing or overshadowing the president) and that cannot help but undermine those who occupy the position, regardless of their place in history.
Even Harris fans find it difficult to understand her status and appreciate that gap between expectations and reality.
Mia Casey, the mayor of Hollister, got up before dawn and drove an hour and 15 minutes to see Harris in San Jose.
“I liked her when she was running with Biden, but I haven't seen her much,” Casey said from her position 10 rows back and left of center stage. “I was hoping to see her more visible out there, doing more substantial things in DC”
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If Harris' primary mission is to work to re-elect Biden (and herself) in November, another aspect is convincing Casey and others that she is much more than a supporting player in the Biden administration, or the Biden-Harris administration , as the vice president prefers.
At his Las Vegas rally, Harris presented a detailed report on the past three years.
“President Biden and I canceled more than $138 billion” in student loans, he said. “President Biden and I are taking on Big Pharma” to cap the price of insulin. “President Biden and I” boosted loans to hundreds of small businesses.
Still, she is often overshadowed or treated as a mere afterthought.
In introducing Harris, Nevada Senator Catherine Cortez Masto recalled the depth of the pandemic shutdown, when the Las Vegas Strip went dark and unemployment in the metropolitan area soared beyond 30%.
“It was a president who came and worked with us to ensure that we could turn our economy around and get out of that horrible time,” Cortez Masto said. He paused for dramatic effect. “And that was President Biden.”
“And,” he hurried, “Vice President Harris.”
It was a non sequitur, but at least the senator recognized the guest of honor.
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Harris loves to cook, so a pre-rally stop at Chef Jeff Project in North Las Vegas offered a happy convergence of pleasure and politics.
The program was started by Jeff Henderson, an ex-convict turned celebrity chef, who mentors at-risk youth for careers in the culinary arts. His industrial-sized kitchen in a scruffy strip mall serves as a kind of sanctuary for second chances, so the cramped rooms offered a perfect backdrop for Harris's event. His theme: the power of redemption.
Standing at a small portable lectern and speaking to a pair of cameras, the vice president announced a change in federal policy that would make it easier for formerly incarcerated people to get loans from the Small Business Administration.
Yes, he said over the hum of an ice machine, there must be accountability, especially in the case of criminal offenses. “But isn't it a sign of a civil society to allow people the chance to return and earn their way back?”
Harris walked around the work area, passing high shelves packed with plates and pans, stopping where Kam Winslow was stirring a giant bowl of jambalaya. “Let's talk about your process,” he said. “Tell me how you did it.”
As Winslow explained (dicing the chicken, browning the andouille sausage, and saving the shrimp for last, so they don't overcook), Harris punctuated his narrative with a series of small interjections. “Yeah.” “UH Huh.” “Delicious.”
“You know, what I love about cooking is the process,” Harris told him. “It's about having patience and knowing that steps are going to be taken, right? Like it’s just not going to be easy to do.”
“The same goes for life,” Winslow said.
“Yes, that's exactly it,” agreed the vice president, who has learned a few things in recent years about trial and error, mistakes and repetitions. “That's exactly right.”
