I have never subscribed to the idea that citizens who refuse to vote for a Democratic candidate in a tight race are somehow morally responsible for the election of a Republican, however bad that Republican might be.
If we are serious about liberal democracy, then we must recognize that every citizen has the legal, moral, and civic right to cast their vote as they choose, and that every single vote for every candidate must be earned. I may regret that many people voted for Ralph Nader in 2000 or Jill Stein in 2016. But it is wrong to presume that I can think or choose for others. The bottom line is that, given the arcane U.S. Electoral College system, the Gore campaign failed to win enough votes in 2000, and the Clinton campaign failed in 2016. It is not the fault of those progressives who refused to support them.
It is in this spirit that I write now.
I say that “some” should consider voting for Harris-Walz because I know that “Uncommitted” includes many thousands of individuals, each of whom has their own reasons—some of whom simply cannot in good conscience vote Harris-Walz—but I am hoping that many of these people might be persuaded to reconcile their conscience with such a vote. I say that such people “should consider” rather than “must” because the latter formulation is presumptuously categorical, and to speak in this way is both wrong and, quite frankly, more likely to turn people off than to persuade them.
In what follows, I will further explain why many “Uncommitted” voters should consider voting for Harris-Walz, by distinguishing between different kinds of “Uncommitted” voters and the different sorts of moral and political commitments that might lead them to be electorally “uncommitted,” and that also might lead them to commit the singular act of casting a vote for Kamala Harris.
My hope is that this will persuade at least some readers that the defeat of Trumpism is an urgent moral and political imperative that should be important even to many who are understandably outraged by the Biden administration’s deafness to the demands of “Uncommitted” citizens.
In a way, what I am saying is very similar to what leaders of the “Uncommitted” initiative have themselves said, by publicly refusing to “endorse Harris” but declaring that their movement “opposes a Donald Trump presidency, and urging supporters “to vote against him and avoid third-party candidates that can inadvertently boost his changes.” Indeed, Ilhan Omar, one of the strongest pro-Palestinian advocates in the U.S. government, has even endorsed Harris, even as she continues to support “Uncommitted” demands. Those leaders obviously have more credibility than I do, and what they are saying strikes me as wise. In what follows I simply elaborate on some of the reasons why others might consider it wise.
Those who are Palestinian-American or Arab-American and who have relatives or friends or friends of friends living in Gaza, or the West Bank, or Lebanon, or Israel proper, have every reason to be sickened by the war crimes daily committed by Israel’s Netanyahu government, by this government’s racist policies towards Palestinians, and by the Biden administration’s continued support of this government and its awful policies. If I were such a person, I would be outraged, and I would find it incredibly hard to justify doing anything to support the Harris-Walz ticket right now. I imagine I would feel a deep, perhaps even tribalistic, sense of frustration and anger towards anyone associated with current U.S. policy in Gaza, the occupied West Bank, Lebanon, or the greater Middle East.
Even here, I think there is a “lesser evil” argument to be made, as I will explain below. But I must first concede that no such argument is likely to convince many Arab-American citizens, and I understand that, and would never presume to tell them that their sense of identity is less important than any other. Arab-American fellow citizens have a right to feel outraged and ignored and to act accordingly.
Biden has been so obstinately “pro-Israel,” and so feckless in his occasional efforts to rein in Netanyahu, that it is easy to think that “it can’t get any worse.” But it can get worse, and it will, if Trump is returned to the White House.
At the same time, some of those Arab-American fellow citizens might feel outraged and ignored and at the same time, upon consideration, rethink their refusal to vote Harris-Walz.
One reason is because they are fellow citizens, Arab-Americans with hybrid identities—as most of us have—and while their “Arab” affinities are very real and should be honored, many of them also deeply experience their Americanness, as people who live and work and raise families in the U.S. and share a common fate with all fellow citizens, and who care about what happens here because here is where they are and here is where they want to be. Even if, on balance, there is no difference between Trump and Harris on the Middle East—and I think there is a difference—there are other ways that there are huge differences, and these might matter to many Arab-Americans because they are Arab but also American.
And this leads to the second reason: the differences between Trump and Harris are huge, in domestic and foreign policy. The former is obvious. For those who care about civil rights broadly, or women’s rights or worker rights, or climate change, or democracy, or are revolted by fascistic rhetoric and outright racist targeting of immigrants, Blacks, and Muslims, there is a world of difference between Donald Trump and Kamala Harris. This difference will impact the lives of all fellow Americans including Arab-Americans, who have no reason to imagine that a Trump administration will show any respect at all for the rights of minorities—and Arab-Americans are an especially vulnerable minority.
Indeed, the differences are significant even in the realm of foreign policy. This is admittedly knotty, and Joe Biden has been so obstinately “pro-Israel,” and so feckless in his occasional efforts to rein in Netanyahu, that it is easy to think that “it can’t get any worse.”
But it can get worse, and it will, if Trump is returned to the White House.
Because if Biden has been deplorably supportive of the IDF, and fecklessly critical of Netanyahu, he has been sometimes critical, and he has tried, weakly, to exercise a modicum of restraint, in words and deeds, just as he has given at least lip service to the idea of Palestinian self-determination and even a Palestinian state. Netanyahu is playing a despicable long game, and part of his game is to make Biden look weak, because Netanyahu and Trump are ideological soulmates and political allies. And Trump has made very clear that if he is elected President, he will simply green light Netanyahu’s war efforts—efforts that involve not just the destruction and subjection of Gaza but the further repression and dispossession of Palestinians living on the West Bank. Netanyahu seeks to Make Greater Israel Great Again. He is the Israeli Trump, and he knows it, and Trump knows it.
Biden has been bad for Palestinians and all who care about their plight.
But Trump would be much worse, and emphatically so.
How can this be a good consequence for those who have been “Uncommitted?”
Further, Kamala Harris is not Joe Biden. It is perfectly understandable that most “Uncommitted” voters would be deeply disappointed by Harris’s refusal to do more to emphasize differences with Biden. It is equally understandable that they would be outraged that the Harris-controlled DNC would not even reserve time to a single Palestinian-American this past July. This was wrong and stupid, and Harris deserves to pay a political price. But if Trump wins, the biggest price on this score will be paid by Palestinians and their Arab-American relatives and allies.
Harris is navigating a very fine line. “Uncommitted voters” have every reason to take seriously their commitment—to refuse to vote for Harris unless she does something to earn their votes. But it is obvious that the race is incredibly tight, and Harris is afraid to make statements that will offend the millions of “pro-Israel voters” who are also strategically important in swing states. Many of these voters are linked to AIPAC and other Jewish groups. Many are Christian Zionists. Many are simply centrists who have long taken for granted the core foreign policy commitments of the U.S., one of which is the twisted idea that Israel is the preeminent U.S. ally in the Middle East. And however mistaken is this idea, it has a hold on many Americans.
Using the “Uncommitted” label to win primary delegates and place pressure on the DNC was a brilliant effort, and it is a shame that it did not bring better results. Loudly demanding more from Harris in the months following the DNC, and continually keeping the pressure on, has been a sensible strategy for effecting a change. And promising to continue such efforts until real results are achieved is praiseworthy.
But the primary season is over, the campaign is in its home stretch and the election is a dead heat. And in the coming weeks the symbolic value of votes will be overshadowed by their practical impact. And one thing above all will be decided by votes: whether the next president is Donald Trump or Kamala Harris.
I would think that many Arab-American fellow citizens who are sickened by the Biden-Harris administration can still appreciate that this choice is hugely consequential for the very things they care about. And while some will feel conscience-bound to abstain or cast a protest vote, others might reconsider, and think of their vote less as a moral statement than as a simple instrument that can at least help to prevent a very bad thing from coming to pass.
In the coming weeks the symbolic value of votes will be overshadowed by their practical impact. And one thing above all will be decided by votes: whether the next president is Donald Trump or Kamala Harris.
Many “Uncommitted” voters, of course, are not Arab-Americans motivated by a sense of a direct “stake” in the Middle East. They are fellow citizens motivated by a strong sense of justice, outrage at the terrible violence and destruction being exacted on Palestinian civilians by the IDF, and indignation at the hypocrisy of U.S. policy. Such a politics of solidarity is to be admired, and of course every citizen has the right to vote their conscience, whatever the basis of their commitment to a cause.
At the same time, “solidarity” is not a simple thing. For if there are Arab-Americans who are adamantly against any show of support for Harris, there are others who are not, either because Harris is a “lesser” evil or because there are actually some things about her candidacy that they like. From which “pro-Palestinian” Arab-Americans should allies take their bearings? Identity groups do not practice groupthink. Solidarity involves real judgments.
Indeed, for those who are motivated by a sense of justice, a deeper question arises: should one, uncompromising version of “pro-Palestinian” solidarity, automatically trump other forms of solidarity?
Abiding outrage at the suffering of Palestinians is laudable. And disappointment, and even outrage, at the Biden administration’s Middle East policy, and Harris’s support for it, is fully warranted. Full stop.
It is also obvious that Trump would be no friendlier, no kinder, and no more interested in bringing an end to Palestinian suffering. His hostility to human rights defenders and progressive voices is well documented.
And, however lame the Democratic party establishment has been in pushing back against threats to civil liberties—and however much some leading Democrats have even supported awful crackdowns on pro-Palestinian protest last year—there is no comparison between Harris and Trump when it comes to the Constitution and to constitutional democracy itself. Trump has targeted Haitian immigrants; promised to deport over ten million immigrants through an elaborate regime of detention and forced expulsion; and called for periodic “rough days” in which police brutality would be encouraged. He has indeed called liberal and left opponents “vermin” and “enemies from within,” and expressed an open ess to using the National Guard or the U.S. Army to shut down critics—a group that obviously includes everyone active in the “Uncommitted” movement.
For those who are motivated by a sense of justice, a deeper question arises: should one, uncompromising version of “pro-Palestinian” solidarity, automatically trump other forms of solidarity?
Trump is indeed so dangerous that General Mark Milley—who served as Trump’s appointed Chief of the Joint Chiefs of Staff—and General John Kelly—who served as Trump’s first Secretary of Homeland Security and then his Chief of Staff—have both recently stated that he is a “fascist.”
To be sure, Pro-Palestinian solidarity politics--and the politics of social justice and solidarity more generally--faces a huge uphill climb should the federal government be controlled by the Democrats. Many Democrats are no allies of such a politics. But the Trump-led, MAGA Republican party is the enemy of such a politics and all who practice it. Indeed, Trumpism is above all fueled by being against what the left is for, and by using the power of the state to actively support what the left is against—racism, xenophobia, militarism, and authoritarianism. I doubt that anyone who has admirably defined themselves as “Uncommitted” is truly undecided when it comes to everything that the toxic politics of Trumpism represents, or uncommitted when it comes to opposing these things.
It is with these things in mind that “Uncommitted” voters should at least consider voting for Harris-Walz.
The commitments of the “Uncommitted” are morally praiseworthy, deep, and involve sustained efforts that far exceed this year’s election. At the same time, in the coming weeks, how one chooses to vote will have major consequences on the very possibility of future activism. “Uncommitted” voters in some swing states, especially Michigan and Arizona, can turn the election for Trump or against him, and thus for racist authoritarianism or against it. Such voters can have an outsized influence on the future of American politics and thus the future of the world. There is an enormous political responsibility in this, a point recognized in an open letter circulated this week by Arizona Palestinian, Arab, Muslim, and progressive Democrats and community leaders, which emphasizes that “voting for Harris is not a personal endorsement of her or of the policy decisions of the administration in which she served. It’s an assessment of the best possible option to continue fighting for an end to the genocide, a free Palestine, and all else that we hold dear.”
The commitments of the “Uncommitted” are morally praiseworthy, deep, and involve sustained efforts that far exceed this year’s election. At the same time, in the coming weeks, how one chooses to vote will have major consequences on the very possibility of future activism.
I hope that many “Uncommitted” voters will think hard about this, and then decide to cast their individual votes for Harris-Walz, while continuing to do all the other things they do collectively to advance the causes of Palestinian rights and justice more broadly. As Waleed Shaheed has recently said on X: “Voting isn’t about a declaration of faith—it’s about finding the coalition that can carry your struggle forward. It’s about leveraging what you have to make the change you seek, even when the choices feel flawed.”
Casting a vote for Harris-Walz might feel bad. But the election of Donald Trump as president would be bad. Very, very bad.
And it would be a pretty good thing if everyone who cares about justice, human rights, and simple human decency did what they could to prevent that from happening. And there is only one way to do this: by voting for the Harris-Walz ticket.
