The Democrats have no leader. Donald Trump has the Democrat Party cornered.
And now President Trump has ended a top Democrat’s career with just three words.
Trump Blames Tim Walz for Kamala Harris’ Election Defeat
During a press conference in the Oval Office on Friday, President Donald Trump pointed fingers at Democratic Minnesota Governor Tim Walz, asserting that Walz played a significant role in former Vice President Kamala Harris’ loss in the November election. Trump’s comments came in response to a question from Fox News White House correspondent Peter Doocy, who brought up remarks Walz made earlier in the week on the program This is Gavin Newsom. In that appearance, Walz boasted, “I feel I could kick most of their *ss,” a statement Doocy interpreted as directed at Trump supporters.
Trump seized on the comment, suggesting that Walz would find himself in deep water if he ever had to face off against his supporters. “Well, he’s a loser, you know? I mean, the guy’s a loser. He lost an election. He played a part. You know, usually a vice president doesn’t play a part, they say,” Trump said. “I think Tim played a part. I think he was so bad that he hurt her. But she hurt herself and [former President] Joe [Biden] hurt them both. They didn’t have a great group. But I would probably put him at the bottom of the group.” The president argued that, contrary to the typical view that vice presidential candidates have little impact on the ticket, Walz’s presence dragged Harris down.
Walz’s Tuesday remarks about physically taking on his critics followed his frustration over attacks on his masculinity during the 2024 campaign. “It just baffled me how much time they spent trying to attack me — that I wasn’t like masculine enough in their vision. Like, I would have never believed this,” Walz said. “I saw Fox News did, like, a couple days because I used a straw, and I’m like, ‘Hell, man, how else do you drink a milkshake type of thing?’ But they focused on it obsessively, which I think, again, is their obsession, their weirdness.” He went on to criticize what he saw as a fixation by conservative media. “We buy their frame on these issues of s*xuality, you know? But their whole thing was is that they spent all their time — these guys on Fox News — that Walz is g*y, he’s not masculine, you know? And he doesn’t coach football the way he should.”
The governor faced additional scrutiny during the campaign beyond questions of masculinity. His support for progressive policies, such as signing a 2023 Minnesota law requiring schools to provide tampons in both girls’ and boys’ restrooms, earned him the nickname “Tampon Tim” from Trump and other critics. Walz also came under fire for repeatedly making inaccurate statements about his past, further fueling opposition narratives.
Adding to his campaign woes, Walz admitted to missteps in strategy during an appearance on Fast Politics with Molly Jong-Fast. He expressed regret for spending too much time responding to Trump’s claims about Haitian migrants in Springfield, Ohio, allegedly eating pets. “I will kick myself that I got sucked in. I bet you I spent three or four days, maybe longer, not clowning, but just hammering them over the eating dogs and cats because it was so ridiculous,” Walz said. “And I took that hook, line and sinker. We were talking about immigration at a critical part of the campaign. And it was hurtful. And it p*ssed me off. And I was standing there to defend people. And it didn’t do a d*mn bit of good electorally.” He acknowledged that the distraction pulled focus from key issues like immigration at a pivotal moment.
Despite the setbacks, Walz appears to be keeping his political future open. In a March 2 interview with The New Yorker, he hinted at considering a presidential run in 2028, contingent on the right circumstances and his abilities aligning with the moment. Meanwhile, he has embarked on a town hall tour in March, targeting Republican-leaning districts nationwide. Walz framed the effort as a way to “lend a megaphone” to Americans, signaling his intent to remain a prominent voice in Democratic politics.
Democrats Adrift as J.D. Vance Rises: A Party Without a Captain Faces 2028
The Democratic Party finds itself in a perilous spiral, a ship lost at sea with no captain in sight. Recent polling paints a grim picture: just 29% of Americans view the party favorably, a staggering 20-point plunge from January 2021 when Donald Trump exited the White House and Joe Biden stepped in, according to CNN’s latest numbers. Even within the ranks, enthusiasm is waning—only 63% of Democrats hold a positive opinion of their own party. Contrast this with the Republican Party, where Vice President J.D. Vance is steadily cementing his status as a magnetic figure, tapped this week as the Republican National Committee’s chief fundraiser—a clear signal of confidence in their 2028 trajectory. While Vance’s star rises, Democrats are left squabbling over a fractured identity, with no unifying leader to rally behind.
The numbers tell a story of a party unmoored. A striking 57% of Democrats now say their primary mission should be to thwart the Republican agenda, a sharp pivot from the 23% who felt that way in the first year of Trump’s initial term. This isn’t the fiery, unified “Resistance” of 2017, when protests filled streets and pink hats dotted rallies. Today’s opposition is quieter but no less bitter, a simmering resentment searching for an outlet. The appetite for a bare-knuckles fight against Trump and his allies isn’t fading—those CNN figures came just before nearly a dozen Senate Democrats, led by Chuck Schumer, joined Republicans to avert a government shutdown. That vote has since ignited a fierce debate, splitting the party and exposing its lack of direction.
For Democrats eyeing 2028, Schumer’s decision is a litmus test, and their responses reveal a leadership vacuum. Illinois Governor J.B. Pritzker, a not-so-subtle contender, dodged a full-throated endorsement of Schumer’s move during a recent stop at the Center for American Progress. “Look, he’s the elected Leader,” Pritzker said. “I disagree with what he did and vehemently so. But I also know that he has done good work as a Senate Leader in other ways.” It’s a careful sidestep, one that might play well in New Hampshire, where he’s already cozying up to voters ahead of the state’s traditional first primary and its biggest Democratic fundraiser next month. But it’s hardly the stuff of a galvanizing vision.
Contrast that with Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, who has unleashed a torrent of criticism on Schumer’s GOP alliance. Before the vote was even final, she was strategizing with colleagues about a potential 2028 primary challenge against the Senate Leader. Her unapologetic stance has sparked chatter even among moderate Democrats, who are suddenly curious about what “Senator AOC” might look like. Meanwhile, Representative Glenn Ivey of Maryland has gone further, openly calling for Schumer’s exit—a lone voice for now, but one that could gain traction if the party’s malaise persists.
Then there’s California Governor Gavin Newsom, whose maneuvers oscillate between shrewd and awkward. He pushed Senate Democrats to let the government shut down rather than cede ground to Republicans, yet he’s also justifying his recent chats with conservative heavyweights like Steve Bannon and Charlie Kirk. “I think we all agreed after the last election that it’s important for Democrats to explore new and unique ways of talking to people,” Newsom wrote to supporters. It’s a gamble—some see it as outreach, others as pandering. Liberals on Bluesky are already tuning him out, while Trump, per a new book, once feared facing Newsom in 2024 more than Biden.
Minnesota Governor Tim Walz offers a different tack, leaning into pragmatism while barnstorming Republican-held House districts. On Schumer’s vote, he told an Omaha crowd, “I get the overwhelming feeling that the vast majority of people wish they would have voted no. Is that true?” The applause was deafening. Yet he tempered it with realism on NPR: “Chuck understands and what folks understand is that a shutdown comes at a hell of a price.” In Des Moines, he dismissed the hunt for a savior: “There is not going to be a charismatic leader ride in and do this. It is going to be people coming out on a beautiful Friday afternoon, demanding change and holding people accountable.” It’s a grounded take, but it emphasizes the void—no one’s riding to the rescue.
The 2028 hopefuls keep multiplying, each jockeying for position rather than charting a collective path. Maryland Governor Wes Moore rubbed elbows at a white-tie D.C. dinner, Pete Buttigieg nixed a Michigan Senate run, and Josh Shapiro, Andy Beshear, Roy Cooper, and Kamala Harris remain in the mix, with Harris eyeing a decision by summer’s end. Yet none have seized the mantle. This internal jostling fuels a nascent 2028 race within a party that can’t agree on how fiercely to oppose Trump—or why.
Meanwhile, Republicans have no such confusion. J.D. Vance, increasingly a folk hero to the GOP base, is already laying the groundwork for 2028. His RNC role this week sends a message: the party has a plan, a face, and a future. Democrats, by contrast, are adrift, their bickering drowning out any coherent strategy. Trump looms large, dictating the terms of engagement, while the opposition flounders. Without a leader to steer them, Democrats risk a prolonged exile, tethered to a fight they can’t define—let alone win.
Stay tuned to the DC Daily Journal.
