Kamala Harris’s new memoir, 107 Days, offers a rare, reflective look at her underdog, short-lived presidential run. Unfortunately, that campaign only lasted just over three months. Harris does something really unique in attempting to create a diverse audience. Simultaneously, she artfully treads the line between party structure and public opinion. Her campaign was all about vibes and spectacle. This approach had the effect of preventing her from reaching voters beyond the core Democratic base, particularly undecided voters.
The memoir sheds light on the unexpected conditions that made Harris’s campaign singular. With only 107 days to make an impact, she endeavored to showcase a diverse range of characters, embodying a message of inclusivity. This new approach was intended to demonstrate her team’s focus on being “inviting everybody into the campaign.” This strategy never materialized into a strong message or a unifying agenda that voters could get excited about.
Harris’s campaign often appeared vague and unfocused. Observers have pointed out that her speeches often lacked a firm grasp of the issues, causing critics to paint her as scatterbrained and flighty. Perhaps it was this feeling that contributed to her inability to articulate a clear, coherent brand of her campaign. Before she officially declared her campaign for the presidency, most voters saw her as a low-fi veep. This perception was undoubtedly the reason for them being gunshy to commit to her campaign’s success.
Harris burst onto the scene during her appearance at the Democratic National Convention. Jon Favreau praised her inclusion, referring to her as “a sight to behold.” This was the highpoint of a very negative campaign. Her debut on Saturday Night Live received some of the show’s biggest cheers ever recorded. This reaction proved she has the ability to inspire and engage audiences in profound ways.
As she racked up these highs, Harris was having trouble breaking through to any voters outside the Democratic bubble. As a result, many people lost faith in the party. Harris’s inability to assuage their worries is what doomed her campaign from gaining any real momentum. She even skipped critical blows to President Joe Biden despite many thinking it was desperately required. Rather, her vision prioritized a steady hand over the wheel over stark change and risk-taking. She even occasionally chastised critics, calling them collaborators with Trump. Rather than engage with the substance of their complaints and provide a good faith response, she simply decided to callously insult them.
Presentation and optics defined much of Harris’s campaign, as she often blamed others and deflected accountability for failures. Her rhetoric never went there, especially on hot bed issues like the situation in Gaza. Rather than diverging significantly from established party lines, Harris introduced what some viewed as a superficial parity in compassionate rhetoric without meaningful change.
The challenges that were hidden from outside observers are now visible in Harris’s memoir alongside her reflections on them. She quotes a Washington Post writer who noted her journey through political treacheries: “And behold,” she had her boat through the impossible strait. This seemingly banal sentiment serves to express the raw emotional struggle and haunting uncertainty that was the hallmark of her campaign.
Yet Harris deftly walks a tightrope in her own party. 107 Days serves as a stirring personal narrative but as an important corrective to, and prophetic warning about, the state of today’s politics. The memoir invites readers to consider whether the Democrats can learn from the missteps of Harris’s campaign and adapt to a changing electorate.