Presidential Remote Shot Marianne Williamson flitted down the aisle of a two-century-old granite church, pausing to bow before dozens of followers while chanting his name.
The author, the best-known Democrat who will appear on Tuesday's ballot when New Hampshire holds the nation's first presidential primary, spent much of her adult life in Los Angeles before moving east in 2018.
Williamson, who has never held elected office but was once dubbed Oprah Winfrey's spiritual guru, has almost zero chance of denying President Biden his reappointment. Polls suggest many New Hampshire voters may write in favor of Biden, who will not appear on the ballot after the Democratic Party decided to revoke the state's first-state status and make South Carolina the official first primary.
Protesters for presidential candidate Marianne Williamson gathered Saturday at a Unitarian church in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. The longshot candidate has almost no chance of winning the state's vote, but she may be the best-known candidate on the Democratic ticket since President Biden will not be on it. When she was asked what she planned to do after Tuesday's primary, Marianne Williamson said she would follow her heart.
(Fe Pinho / Los Angeles Times)
But Williamson's quixotic second bid for the White House (she also ran in 2020) is evidence of a different question: Exactly how many of these supposedly tough New Hampshire residents will vote for a woman who has been stereotyped as a Californian “woo woo”?
The Texas native's ties to California go back decades. In 1970, she moved to california attend Pomona College, where he studied theater and philosophy and protested the Vietnam War before dropping out a couple of years later. After touring the country and being distracted by what Entertainment Weekly called “good and bad guys,” he moved to Los Angeles in 1983 and shared an apartment with actress Laura Dern.
Williamson, 71, became a spiritual leader and wrote more than a dozen books, one of which Winfrey promoted by saying, “I have never been more moved by a book than this one.” Millions of people have bought her books and celebrities adored her, officiating the 1991 wedding of Elizabeth Taylor and Larry Fortensky at Michael Jackson's Neverland Ranch.
Williamson was also active in charities helping people with HIV or living in poverty.
He came to believe that the two-party system disenfranchises the average voter by prioritizing the interests of wealthy elites.
Democratic presidential candidate Marianne Williamson, center, is cheered by the crowd after finishing her talk at the Interfaith Center for Spiritual Growth, Sunday, Sept. 10, 2023, in Ann Arbor, Michigan. “The most important things you do in life, not because there is guaranteed success on some external level, but because you feel in your heart that it is the right thing to do,” Williamson, 71, said during an interview in New York City .
(José Juárez / Associated Press)
“It's clear that most Americans are a little left of center,” Williamson told the Times in an interview last year. “The problem is that we have a political system that is more beholden to the short-term profits of its corporate donors than to the will of its own voters. Their idea of an acceptable candidate is someone who will perpetuate the system as it is. “What we need in a president is someone who will disrupt that system.”
Williamson's message resonates with a diverse group, but especially among people who believe that changing the system begins with changing yourself. His followers include fans of his books, disillusioned Democrats, and some former Bernie Sanders supporters.
But not many are New Hampshire voters.
When he arrived this weekend at the Southern Unitarian Universalist Church in Portsmouth, the pews were packed with almost as many volunteers as voters.
Orson Maazel drove from rural Virginia to volunteer for the campaign. Wearing a sweatshirt that said “Disrupt the corrupt,” he said he was attracted to Williamson because she is an outsider who doesn't take money from corporations.
“I agree with her that we don't just need the people who got us into the climate and economic disaster we're in to get us out of the system,” said Maazel, 35. “We need someone outside who won't be bought by anyone and who has a very good character.”
Williamson brought Nicole Dillon, 47, who lives in Massachusetts, to tears. Dillon, who didn't know Williamson well before the event, said she loved the candidate's message about standing up for women and children, ending the war on drugs and fighting climate change.
Dillon watched closely when, about 20 minutes into Williamson's speech, a man approached the stage and took the candidate's hand, quietly thanking her. The 50 or so people sitting on the benches watched in awkward silence until a pair of security guards approached the man to remove him from the stage.
“Can you sit for me now?” Williamson said quietly to the man.
He turned around, noticed the crowd on the benches, and with a look of surprise, allowed security to escort him down the aisle, apologizing for the interruption.
“I just tripped on his birthday,” one guard said, shrugging and laughing, after pulling the man out. “She draws all kinds!”
“He was drawn to her truth and her light,” Dillon said. “She was very kind to him and like a mother. She is very motherly; she will gather us all in her basket and she will take care of us.”
Democratic presidential candidate Marianne Williamson, second from right, answers a question from Mahi Vyas, 20, a senior at the University of Michigan, at the Interfaith Center for Spiritual Growth, Sunday, Sept. 10, 2023, in Ann Arbor, Michigan (AP Photo/José Juárez)
(José Juárez / Associated Press)
But neither Dillon nor Maazel can vote in the New Hampshire primary.
Only 2% of registered Democratic voters in New Hampshire said they planned to vote for Williamson, compared to 64% who planned to write for Biden, according to a recent Suffolk University poll.
“It has a perspective that actually reaches a certain percentage of the population. The question is: will that ever be enough to be successful on a national level? said Ray Buckley, chairman of the New Hampshire Democratic Party. “I don't know anyone who doesn't think she's a good person. She's in it for the right reasons. She just doesn't seem to connect with enough voters to be able to be successful.”
Perhaps the inability to connect with voters is due in part to his unusual political presence. Williamson peppered his speech with words, book titles and quotes that cost $20. His answers to voters' questions frequently invoked references to books he had read and, sometimes, an esoteric history lesson.
He repeatedly expressed frustration over the Democratic National Committee's dismissal of his campaign. In several states, including North Carolina, Florida and Tennessee, Biden will be the only Democratic candidate on the ballot.
If something were to happen to the president that would prevent him from running for a second term, “I suppose his idea would be to put [California Gov.] Gavin Newsom…” he said, before recovering. “I don't know. I don't know any more than anyone else.”
The tables at the entrance littered with signs, buttons and stickers reading “Marianne Williamson for President” were still full at the end of the night.
