48 Time December 21/December 28, 2020
They are parTners now, but they were rivals
once. When the Democratic primary candidates met
for their first debate in June 2019, Biden was the front
runner, though he didn’t look much like one. His or-
ganization was rickety, his speeches baggy, his mes-
sage seemingly out of step with the party’s mood.
Harris looked equally lost, stagnant in the polls and
shuffling campaign messages. After launching her
campaign with fanfare—20,000 people turned out
to her kickoff rally in Oakland, Calif.—she struggled
to find her footing in a crowded field.
On a hot night in Miami, the Democrats’ past and
future collided. Advisers had warned Biden that ri-
vals would target his sepia-toned musings about com-
promises struck in Senate cloakrooms. But he wasn’t
ready for Harris’ attack. “As the only Black person
on this stage, I would like to speak on the issue of
race,” she said, turning to address Biden. She told
him it was “hurtful” to hear him praise segregation-
ist Senators who had been his colleagues. “Not only
that, but you also worked with them to oppose bus-
ing,” she continued. “There was a little girl in Cali-
fornia who was part of the second class to integrate
her public schools, and she was bused to school every
day. And that little girl was me.” To Harris’ supporters
and many more African Americans, the moment was
a battle cry. Biden backers saw an ambush: within
hours, her campaign had designed T-shirts with
Harris’ childhood picture above those words.
In fact, the issue was more complex than it seemed.
In the 1970s, Biden opposed federally mandated bus-
ing, not voluntary programs like the one Harris had
participated in in Berkeley. Nor did Harris believe a
federal mandate was necessary; her own stance was
nearly identical to Biden’s. But to many Americans,
it was powerful to see the only Black candidate on-
stage discuss sensitive policy through the prism of
her lived experience. There was neither mystery nor
malice to the confrontation. Harris was searching for
momentum, and Biden was the primary’s piñata; to
many, it seemed inevitable that he would fade, and
whoever took him down might inherit the favor of
the Democratic establishment.
But Biden was taken aback. Harris had been close
with his son Beau while they both served as attorneys
general of their states. Despite criticism of his involve-
ment with regressive criminal- justice policy in the
1990s, Biden’s longtime advocacy for civil rights was
a point of personal pride and had helped earn him
the loyalty of many Black voters. While Biden did not
hold a grudge, advisers say, his family, particularly his
wife Jill Biden, was upset. Today, she concedes the
exchange was a “surprise” because of Harris’ friend-
ship with Beau, who died of brain cancer in 2015, but
noted others on the debate stage criticized Biden as
well. “This is a marriage, and I feel very protective of
my husband and my children, as is any mother,” she
tells TIME. “You move beyond it—that’s politics.”
Whatever boost Harris got in the primary was
short-lived. She ran low on cash, sank in the polls and
dropped out of the race in December. Biden seemed
not far behind, limping to a fourth-place finish in
Iowa and slipping to fifth in New Hampshire. That
was the “lowest point,” Jill Biden recalls. “I had a
feeling we weren’t going to win, but I didn’t think
we would come in fifth. Nor did Joe.”
Biden had always believed his support among
Black voters would buoy his campaign in the Feb. 29
South Carolina primary. After a key endorsement from
House majority whip Jim Clyburn, he won by nearly
30 points, establishing himself as the most credible
alternative to Senator Bernie Sanders, who had been2020 Person of the Year
Harris stops for
lunch in Waterloo,
Iowa, in September
2019; she
abandoned her
presidential bid less
than three months
later