The Anniversary That Democrats Would Be Wise to Forget

The Atlantic

16 hours ago

Yesterday marked one year since Joe Biden's debate meltdown against Donald Trump. Happy anniversary to those who observe such things, or are triggered by such things. Please celebrate responsibly.
For Democrats, the debacle was a harsh awakening and the start of an ongoing spiral. Prior to that night, they could hold on to the delusion that the party might somehow eke out one last victory from Biden's degraded capacity and ward off another four-year assault from Donald Trump. But that all exploded into the gruesome reality of June 27, 2024. Every interested viewer that night remembers where they were, their various feelings (depending on their perspectives) of revulsion, grief, glee, or disbelief.
I was watching at home, thinking for some reason that Biden might exceed his humble expectations. He had managed to do this periodically on big stages during his presidency—including the feisty State of the Union address he'd turned in a few months earlier. But by the time Biden walked to his podium in Atlanta, it was clear that was not happening. Something was off. The elderly president looked visibly stiffer than usual, like he was wrapped in cardboard. As co-moderator Jake Tapper of CNN unfurled his opening question—about rising grocery and home prices—Biden's eyes bugged out, as if he was stunned. His face was a drab gray color. I remember thinking there was something wrong with my TV, until the texts started rolling in. A friend observed that Biden looked 'mummified' on the stage. 'Is he sick?' my wife asked as she entered the room.
Not a great start.
And this was before Biden had even said a word. Then he spoke—or tried to. Biden's voice didn't really work at first. It was raspy; he kept stopping, starting, dry-coughing. After a few sentences, everything was worse. 'Oh my god,' came another text, which was representative of the early returns. 'My mother told me she's crying,' read another. (This person's mother is evidently not a Trump supporter.) My wife left the room.
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Now here we are a year later. Democrats have been battered by events since. First among them was Trump's victory in November, in which traditional Democratic constituencies such as Black, Hispanic, and young voters defected to the GOP in large numbers. This was followed by the onslaught of Trump's second administration. Democrats keep getting described (or describing themselves) as being 'in the wilderness,' though at this point 'the wilderness' might be a generous description; it at least offers peace and quiet—as opposed to, say, your average Democratic National Committee meeting in 2025.
Or, for that matter, the aftermath of this week's Democratic primary in the New York City mayor's race. Zohran Mamdani, a democratic socialist state assemblyman from Queens, became an instant It Boy with his upset of scandal-soiled former Governor Andrew Cuomo. As happens with many progressive sensations these days, Mamdani's victory was immediately polarizing. New York Democrats seem split over the result: On one side are lukewarm establishment titans such as Senate and House Minority Leaders Chuck Schumer and Hakeem Jeffries; on the other are progressive demigods such as Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and Senator Bernie Sanders.
The usual Democratic divides revealed themselves: insurgent versus establishment, socialist-adjacent versus moderate, young versus old (except for Bernie, the ageless octogenarian forever big with the kids). The deeply unpopular incumbent, Eric Adams, who was elected as a Democrat in 2021, is running for reelection as an independent; despite getting trounced in the primary, Cuomo plans to stay in the race—running on something called the 'Fight and Deliver' ballot line. Mamdani is the clear favorite to prevail in November. But no one knows anything for sure, except that everything feels like a muddled mess, which has pretty much been the Democrats' default posture since the Abomination in Atlanta a year ago.
The party's grass roots are showing genuine energy these days. Sanders and Ocasio-Cortez drew five-figure crowds at their 'Fighting Oligarchy' rallies this spring. The nationwide 'No Kings' protests two weekends ago were indicative of a galvanized protest movement eager to be led. Yet these signs of Trump resistance are mostly happening separate from the Democratic apparatus. As my colleague David Graham recently wrote, the 'No Kings' spectacles were themselves, paradoxically, a sign of how rudderless the party now finds itself. With a few exceptions, the Democratic leadership ranks have been largely AWOL. They toggle and flail between quiet paralysis and loud frustration, especially with one another.
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Democrats have spent an inordinate amount of time and energy relitigating Biden's tenure in the White House—whether he was fit to be there and how frail he had become. The phrase cognitive decline still comes up a lot, for obvious reasons, none of them fun or especially constructive. The 2024 campaign has also come in for a spirited rehash —especially among factions of Biden world, the Kamala Harris–Tim Walz campaign, and the various PACs and outside groups ostensibly designed to support them. Republicans have of course relished every chance to revisit Biden's deterioration. The media have hammered this theme as well, most notably Tapper and his co-author, Alex Thompson of Axios, whose blockbuster autopsy, Original Sin, has been at or near the top of The New York Times ' nonfiction best-seller list for several weeks.
The surest way for Democrats to move on would be to jump straight to the future: Look to 2028, as quickly as possible. Presidential campaigns at their best can be forward-looking, wide-open, and aspirational. Yes, local elections—and certainly the 2026 midterms—are important, and maybe even promising for the party. But not as important as picking a new national leader, something the Democrats have not really done since Barack Obama was first elected in 2008. Among the many tragedies of Biden's last act was that he delayed his party, indefinitely, from anointing its next generation.
Trump himself might not be on the ballot in 2028, but he's still giving his opposition plenty to run against. So Democrats might as well take the show national and start now, if for no other reason than to escape from fractures of the present and circular nightmares of the recent past. Which began, more or less, on June 27 of last year. When Democrats stop dwelling on that disaster and what followed, that might signal that they're finally getting somewhere.