Staff Reports
Kamala Harris, recently crowned the Democratic Party’s nominee for president, is giving America some serious déjà vu vibes from the past—specifically 1840. In a not-so-shocking move, her campaign has opted for the classic strategy of keeping the candidate under wraps while hoping everyone just buys the hype. No press conferences? No problem! Just keep rolling out the carefully curated, mostly silent Harris and hope the citizens mistake quietude for wisdom.
Only one interview has made it past the “Kamala Harris Seal of Approval,” and it heavily featured her running mate, Tim Walz. What a team! The dynamism of two well-scripted candidates means the public can forget about any real policy positions—after all, why worry about the nitty-gritty when you’ve got the charm of a vice president to lean on? Her campaign website, which was so quiet it might as well have been a library, finally posted some policy positions, leaving loyal Democrats wondering if she’s still in the race for real or just practicing for a game of hide-and-seek.
Get Kamala Harris Into the White House With This One Weird 184-Year-Old Trick –
https://t.co/cbX7EbEd6P— Robert Spencer (@jihadwatchRS) September 10, 2024
This campaign strategy feels like a vintage political trick, reminiscent of the Whig Party’s antics way back in 1840. Their strategy? Project a relatable persona over actual policy. William Henry Harrison was packaged as “Old Tippecanoe,” the humble war hero who loved hard cider more than high-minded discussions about economics. Very little substance was presented, just a charming folksy image, and it worked wonders. Today’s Democrats seem to think they can apply the same tactic with Harris.
Recall that the Whigs were in a tough spot, with internal divisions galore. They decided the best way out of their conundrum was to keep Harrison quiet while they finessed the image that he was just a simple man who liked a good jug of cider. Fast forward to now, and it seems Harris might be living under a similarly muted strategy. Instead of sharing what she genuinely wants to do, she is being sold as a bold new leader because she is young and diverse—very slick marketing for a campaign that aims more at the heartstrings than the brain.
Her campaign’s joyful branding—look at her smile, she’s one of us—or so they’re hoping—has all the makings of a modern “Tippecanoe” moment. The Democrats should be careful, though. There might come a time when voters catch on that the person they’re backing is more about the glitz and glam than the guts of policy. Voters may soon tire of the constant cheerleading that comes with little footing on actual governance. History shows that while a flashy facade might win a few rounds, substance ultimately takes the prize.
The echoes of these past political stunts resonate today, should Harris’s team truly believe that they can sell her solely on a flood of personality rather than a solid platform. They are gambling that America won’t care about the details, but with a history lesson at their backs, it’s clear voters are smarter than that. Age-old tricks can become wearied strategies—they may just find themselves in a whirlwind reminiscent of Harrison’s unlikely rise, only to watch the Dems get lost in the tumult rather than riding it to victory.
