In April 1966, according to legend, a chance encounter in a traffic jam on Sunset Boulevard led to the formation of the rock group Buffalo Springfield. They took their name from a steamroller built by the Buffalo-Springfield Roller Company, whose factory was located in Springfield, Ohio. In a brief career, they produced some great music, including one all-time classic, the protest song For What It’s Worth.
Two of its members, Neil Young and Stephen Stills, went on to superstardom. And that was the 15 minutes of fame for the town of Springfield … until a few days ago, when Donald Trump relaunched it into the spotlight, and prompted a thousand memes, by asserting in the presidential debate with Kamala Harris that the Haitian immigrant community in Springfield were abducting dogs and cats from their neighbours and eating them.
For some of us, this was the highlight of the debate – who needs policy with this quality of anecdote? It reminded me of one of the most arresting opening sentences in modern literature, from master of dystopia JG Ballard’s High-Rise: “Later, as he sat on his balcony eating his dog, Dr Robert Laing reflected on the unusual events that had taken place within this huge apartment building during the previous three months.” And it is of course untrue: the Springfield mayor has said there is zero evidence of this culinary trend.
But for committed Trump supporters, they will believe it, whatever the evidence to the contrary, because they want it to be so. It fits perfectly with the nightmarish image of America that Trump has been peddling for decades and that his supporters share: remember, in his 2016 inauguration speech, his description of “rusted-out factories scattered like tombstones across the landscape of our nation”.
The 2024 Trump is a less formidable campaigner than the 2016 model – down on energy, more liable to become confused, and with a mind cluttered with grievances. And he remains a policy-free zone. But he is still capable of connecting with the “left behind” to a level few can match, a talent which ensures a devoted support base in a country where one in three workers say they live “paycheck to paycheck”.
Harris has attempted, with some success, and despite her three-and-a-half years as vice-president, to run as the “change candidate”. She has presented herself as a beacon of hope and positivity, in contrast to Trump’s Dantesque vision. The Democratic Convention was a bubble of happy talk and liberal-flavoured optimism. She bossed the recent debate, aided by an opponent with the message discipline of a wasp at a picnic. Some of the baits she dangled in front of Trump were so obvious that they almost materialised under the studio lights: yet he swallowed every one.
So she’s going to win? Not so fast: the polls say it’s a toss-up (historically they’ve underestimated Trump’s support) and the Democrats risk making two serious mistakes.
The first of these relates to the peculiar nature of US democracy, with elections decided by the electoral college, not the popular vote. Few states are real competitions: the majority are nailed-on for the Democrats or the Republicans. And three of the battleground states are critical: Michigan, Pennsylvania and Wisconsin, all once part of the manufacturing heartland of America, all now relegated to the declining rust belt.
In 2016, Trump won them by about 70,000 votes. In 2020, Biden won them back. In 2024, they may again determine the outcome. The Democrats need to be laser-focused on these voters. Trump is telling them their jobs have gone overseas or to illegal immigrants because Washington doesn’t care: but he offers no policy solutions beyond the widely derided proposition of tariffs on imports. This offers Harris an opportunity.
But in the debate, when asked about the economy, she generalised and deflected. She must do better, offering some crisply worded, specific, targeted policies to bring jobs and hope back to these blighted neighbourhoods. Otherwise they may drift back to Trump.
And second, Harris must stop hiding from the media. Back in 2016, Trump was ever-present. He would accept any and every invitation. He would, even unbidden, phone the morning news shows to offer his views. By contrast, Hillary Clinton locked the media out – and lost. Harris seems to have adopted the Clinton playbook, with just one 20-minute interview since becoming the Democrat candidate. She needs to take some risks, especially with supposedly hostile media outlets such as Fox News; it’s about contesting the space, and the audience, that Trump currently dominates.
Finally, how should the UK behave during these 51 remaining days until 5 November? Starmer was in the White House two days ago, and given the political alignment between Labour and the Democrats, it is no surprise that he and Biden seem already to have bonded. There was even talk of Harris breaking into her campaign schedule to drop into the White House meeting – though in the event this didn’t happen.
But Starmer will be back in the US at the end of September for the UN general assembly: might he meet Harris then? It would obviously be valuable to meet the possible future president. However – as I am sure the British embassy in Washington are advising – it is important that if Starmer meets one, he meets both, even if this means taking time out from the UN to connect with Trump. It will be noticed and resented by the Trump team if he doesn’t. There is a lot to discuss with him, starting with his views on Ukraine.
And however badly Trump performed in the debate, however visible his personal decline, he remains for many of us the likelier winner.
Lord Darroch was British ambassador to the US from 2016 to 2019
