Kamala Harris and the fight to save America’s soiled soul

“We are in a fight for the soul of our nation, for the ideals of justice and equality that we hold dear. This isn’t just about politics—it’s about who we are willing to become.” — Kamala Harris, The Truths We Hold, 2019

The re-election of Donald Trump in 2024 shattered the hopes of millions who had envisioned a different path for America—who looked to the ideals of founders like Jefferson, Adams, and Franklin, who envisioned a nation of justice and equal opportunity. For many on the margins, Kamala Harris’s candidacy was a rare stand for an America that could still hold firm to its ideals and give weight to its self-proclaimed status as the leader of the free world. Harris’s defeat underscored the enduring grip of wealth on American politics, casting ideals of fairness and justice into stark relief. “When money shapes the laws,” Harris has noted, “we lose the idea that everyone’s voice counts equally” (The Truths We Hold, 2019).

Christopher Zurn, in The Role of Wealth in American Democracy (2023), observes: “The concentration of wealth in the hands of a few… erodes public trust and participation.” This distortion of democracy has become especially evident with the recent shift in foreign policy. The Statue of Liberty, with its call to “Give me your tired, your poor,” symbolizes a promise to uplift the vulnerable—is now contradicted by actions favouring arms traders over human lives. Since October 2023, the United States has directed over $17.9 billion in military aid to Israel, fuelling a devastating human toll. More than 43,000 Palestinians have been killed, many by US-supplied weapons, with the casualties overwhelmingly affecting women and children (AP News; Newsweek). Washington’s silence—across both the Biden-Harris administration and Trump’s team—underscores the troubling alignment between US foreign policy and defence industry interests and lays bare a prioritisation beyond national ideals. While the International Court of Justice (ICJ) has labelled the situation in Gaza a “genocide,” and the International Criminal Court (ICC) issued arrest warrants for Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu on charges of war crimes and crimes against humanity, the U.S. response remains muted.

Roughly 1.7 million Palestinians are internally displaced, their homes and lives in ruins. The World Bank and United Nations estimate the damage to Gaza’s infrastructure at $18.5 billion. Countries globally, including South Africa, Turkey, Saudi Arabia, Jordan, Ku- wait, Oman, the United Arab Emirates, Syria, Belgium, France, Chile, and the African Union, have condemned Israel’s actions in Gaza as genocidal or violations of international law, calling for an immediate end to the hostilities. Yet American aid to Israel flows uninterrupted illustrating just how deeply profit-driven policies have distorted the ideals once held as America’s foundation. As Zurn notes, “It appears to be about democracy, but it’s about the money,” highlighting how the influence of the arms sector often eclipses humanitarian concerns. The stock market’s surge following Trump’s victory reflected more than investor confidence; it underscored Wall Street’s faith—and by extension, the faith of the America that voted for Trump—in profit over principle.

Harris’s supporters, meanwhile, saw her candidacy as a last stand for American ideals of justice and accountability at home and abroad. But Harris’s life and journey defy any reduction to an electoral outcome. Born in 1964 in Oakland, California, Kamala Devi Harris carried her parents’ legacies, who crossed oceans to build lives of purpose. Her mother, Shyamala Gopalan, left South India at nineteen to study endocrinology and made strides in breast cancer research, bringing fierce independence to their home. Her father, Donald Harris, came from Jamaica, shaped by colonial oppression and a tradition of resistance. Jamaica—where, for over 300 years, the brutalities of the transatlantic slave trade left scars but also cultivated a tradition of defiance exemplified by the Maroons, who built independent communities in the face of British rule.

This history of resistance shaped Donald’s worldview and became a silent teacher in Kamala’s life (*Robinson, Jamaica: A History of Colonialism and Resilience, 2020). “Jamaica was a place where the fight for freedom was never theoretical,” Harris said, reflecting on her father’s influence. Her parents instilled in her an understanding that systemic injustice demands fierce, tireless confrontation. “I was raised with the awareness that history was not something you could ignore. It was woven into everything we did” (The Truths We Hold).

Growing up in Berkeley during the civil rights movement, Harris often accompanied her mother to protests, where justice felt tangible. “The civil rights movement was not just something I heard about. It was the air I breathed.” Howard University reinforced this grounding, where she joined Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, embracing Black history and identity. “Howard gave me more than an education; it gave me purpose,” she said. Returning to California, Harris joined the Alameda County District Attorney’s Office. In 2003, she became the first Black woman elected as District Attorney of San Francisco, gaining a reputation for seeking both reform and accountability. “My mother would say, ‘Don’t sit around and complain. Do something,’” Harris recalls in her memoir, a message that propelled her through years of advocating for homeowners, families, and victims. As California’s Attorney General, she secured a $25 billion settlement for homeowners affected by the 2008 financial crisis. “Jus- tice is about more than laws on paper,” she said. “It’s about showing up for people who have been disregarded.” In the US Senate, Harris’s fearless questioning in hearings became a defining trait, marking her as a senator deeply invested in accountability. “Justice is not about being polite. It’s about asking tough questions and demanding answers,” she wrote in her memoir.

In 2020, Kamala Harris became the first Black and South Asian woman to serve as vice president. As activist and author Maya Angelou wrote of women like Harris, “We have to confront ourselves. Do we like what we see in the mirror?” For Harris, that reflection was one of personal and collective history, uniting generations of immigrant stories in her leadership vision. As vice president, Harris championed voting rights, healthcare reform, and immigration protections, honouring her parents’ sacrifices. “My mother taught me that the fight isn’t just for us but for those who come after,” she reflected. Her policies honoured those who fought to belong and those still striving to claim their place in America’s story. During her 2024 presidential campaign, Harris said she would “never give up the fight for democracy, the fight to protect our students and our streets from gun violence”, an America “where women have the freedom to make decisions about their own bodies”. The election’s outcome underscored an enduring truth: ideals often contend with America’s entrenched forces of wealth and influence. In her concession speech, she reminded her supporters: “This is not the time to throw up our hands. This is a time to roll up our sleeves.”

Kamala Harris’s life is a testament to the layered resilience of her heritage and the strength of America’s immigrant stories. Her story embodies the courage that has always defined America’s best promise, from Jamaican Maroons and Tamil traditions to countless immigrant journeys. Across the Caribbean, many saw in Harris a symbol of shared histories and aspirations—a reflection of complex identities shaped by colonial pasts and hope for a more just world. Kamala Harris remains a force as her life’s work continues to inspire women to lead on their terms. Now, freed from the constraints of Biden’s administration, one hopes she will speak against America’s troubling trajectory—from a land of opportunity to one mired in exploitation and political expediency, bowing to the god of arms and profit, heedless of suffering and death, using its power to trample on the masses it once claimed to save. In Kamala Harris’s words: “Our Fight Continues.”

Ira Mathur is a Guardian journalist and the winner of the 2023 OCM Bocas Prize for Non- Fiction for her memoir, Love The Dark Days. Author inquiries: irasroom@gmail.com Website: www.irasroom.org.