2024 US Elections: A State of the Union
Perhaps the only period less tolerable than an American election cycle is where we are currently: the waiting room. November 5th looms, but nothing has developed far enough to provide certainty: we are instead left to rely on endless commentary which fails to conclude anything confidently. Allow me to add to that.
Amidst the noise, two questions emerge. First, after decisively winning the Republican primary, who will Donald Trump select as his running mate? Secondly, now that polls suggest a more favourable environment for Joe Biden than once imagined, can the encumbered incumbent pull off a comeback? As a lowly history undergraduate, I cannot answer either question definitively. However, I am glad to commit some thoughts to paper, to either look back upon in November and brag about my foresight, or to otherwise apologise for my misguidance.
Beginning with the Trump campaign. “There are two types of vice president,” Kevin Spacey’s character says in House of Cards, “the matadors, and the doormats.” For a second term, Trump wants somebody to wipe his feet on. His last Veep, former Governor of Indiana Mike Pence, fit this bill once, but relations soured when Pence refused to back attempts to block the certification of 2020’s election results. This betrayal spurred a mob to breach the Capitol in January 2021, erecting gallows to chants of “Hang Mike Pence.” His return is fairly unlikely, so vice presidential material must be found elsewhere.
The vice presidency could be more important these upcoming years than at any time since 1974. Historically, vice presidents have infrequently received mid-term promotions: most recently was Gerald Ford after Richard Nixon resigned over Watergate; before that, the Kennedy assassination forced Lyndon Johnson to take the reins. Both instances rocked the American public, who expect their presidents to serve no less than full terms. However, already in 2024 there is speculation as to whether either candidate has four years left. Voters, therefore, must consider Trump’s running mate not only in how well they complement him, but how they compare to President Biden (or, hypothetically, President Kamala Harris.)
In a sensible world, Trump would be reaching out to Nikki Haley, former South Carolina governor and his closest primary rival. Seen as more moderate than Trump, appointing her would show Republicans as united and present Trump as willing to compromise. The issue is: he is not. When Haley ceded the race, Trump was asked how he would win her votes – “I’m not sure we need too many,” was his response. Florida Governor Ron DeSantis also challenged Trump for the nomination, but dropped out in January. He has since endorsed Trump, but it is unlikely that fealty shown this spring offsets opposition last winter.
There is no shortage of other Republicans. A few snapshots of likely individuals paint a thorough picture of the campaign we can expect. Senator Tim Scott of South Carolina is a name often floated. Last year, Scott was under fire from conservatives for being unmarried at fifty-eight years old. No matter: within weeks he had acquired a girlfriend and got engaged. His standing in Trump’s circle has only improved as he publicly defends him against legal troubles – “You’re a much better candidate for me than you are for yourself,” Trump told him. As such, his name is squarely in circulation. The mystery fiancé, however, has not been seen for some time.
Senator Marco Rubio of Florida is being increasingly linked to Trump. This would be quite the reversal, as the two men were bitter rivals for the Republican nomination in 2016. Over the campaign, they attacked one another from all angles, with Rubio claiming Trump was too dangerous for nuclear control; Trump countered by saying Rubio “has the biggest ears I’ve ever seen.” Their bad blood has dissipated over time, and insiders claim the Florida Senator’s name is high up Trump’s list.
An outside choice would be Elise Stefanik, Chairwoman of the House Republicans. Once a respected bipartisan, her career prospects expanded after she aligned with her party’s rightmost fringes. Recently she has refused to commit to certifying a Biden victory, demanded pardons for 2021’s Capitol rioters, and discredited a woman suing Trump for sexual assault as a liar. The connecting thread between these candidates is a lack of public renown and unflinching loyalty – clear indicators that Trump wants no rivals to the spotlight. Moreover, it sends a clear message to any Democrat who may attempt to impeach him: Remove me, and you will be left with one of these.
Which turns us to the Democrats themselves, and the tightrope currently being walked. You might not have heard, but the president is quite old. Although media fascination with Biden’s age is here to stay, recent weeks have seen the administration deploy strategies aimed at declawing the issue. The president is undertaking more public speeches, delivering them more successfully, and making the case that the election is not about the candidates’ ages, but “how old your ideas are.” Directing attention onto Trump’s role in state abortion bans and presenting him as a threat to democracy, the Democrats hope to sweeten the public’s mood towards Biden.
This might even be working, as the picture shown by polling shifts. In February, Trump led Biden nationally by around 3%; in April, Biden has taken the lead by 1.2%. The frame of debate has moved from an embattled president destined to serve one term, to the plucky underdog who might just take it home. Moreover, as economic pressures ease, donors are lining up behind Democrats, with the campaign expecting to raise $2 billion by election day.
However, this is insufficient for anyone to sleep easy in the White House. Biden remains squeezed, on the right by immigration, and on the left by his continuing support for Israel. What’s more, a quirk in American elections means that even if he wins more votes in November, victory is not guaranteed. In 2016, Hillary Clinton won 3 million more votes than Trump, but still lost the day. In 2000, Republican George Bush lost the popular vote by half a million, but was inaugurated months later. This is not a bug, but an intentional feature. The Founding Fathers, in their supposedly infinite wisdom, feared that American politics might become dominated by a few big cities, and so created a system whereby the electoral votes which decide the presidency are distributed in the favour of smaller states. In practice, this means a vote in rural Alabama carries more weight than one in Los Angeles, lending Trump a distinct advantage: even if Biden’s lead materialises, it could easily achieve nothing. So, as Trump’s campaign looks inward to consolidate, Biden’s looks up at the mountain still to climb, and nobody is any the wiser.
These uncertainties have one solution: wait. Trump will announce his candidate in the summer, and only November will show Biden’s fortunes. In short, anyone who says this election is anything other than a toss-up speaks with an impossible degree of certainty, and is depriving you of impending months of dread. To top it off, nobody our side of the pond gets a say anyway. In America we must trust: they have never been wrong before.
Sam Chapman is an undergraduate student at the University of York. He is a regular contributor to the York Politics Review, the official political journal of the University of York politics department and a subsidiary of York Politics Society.