Democrats are at each other’s throats — this time over the 2028 calendar

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  • The choice of which state begins the presidential balloting turned into a needlessly divisive conflict over race and ethnicity.
  • Nevada, the runner-up to South Carolina, was not happy.

Come 2028, the Democratic presidential campaign promises to be a banger, with all sorts of intrigue and subplots layered within a wide-open fight for the nomination.

There’s the prospect of same-state rivals going at it. (California’s Gavin Newsom vs. Kamala Harris; Georgia’s Sen. Jon Ossoff vs. Sen. Raphael Warnock.)

There’s sure to be a generational divide, a split over how much time and energy Democrats should spend rehashing the Trump era, and, inevitably, a clash between standard-bearers of the left, the far left and the party’s increasingly small center-left.

All that remains in the offing, however, as none of the major prospects have formally declared their candidacies. Political tradition, and self-preservation, require waiting at least until after November’s midterm election to jump into the race.

In the meantime, Democrats have seemingly resolved at least one 2028 fight, a fracas marked by snarking, backbiting and plenty of acrimony — all the things that make our politics such a grand and glorious endeavor.

We speak of the contest to determine which state will hold the first vote of the 2028 nominating process. And the winner is … South Carolina!

The Democrats rose together through San Francisco politics, sharing donors and, for a time, campaign strategists. A fight for their party’s nomination would bring their private jostling into the open.

This was a blow to Nevada, the runner-up in the calendar sweepstakes, and not a very sporting one at that. The state Democratic Party issued a huffy news release, insisting Nevada will be the candidates’ first true test of 2028 — emphasis added — reprising the argument over which state offers the best starting path to reclaim the White House and, thus, deserves the coveted lead voting slot.

(California, a perennially frustrated onlooker, is not set to vote until March 7, several weeks into the balloting, which is supposed to start Jan. 22.)

For decades, the political calendar was unchanged and, mostly, unchallenged.

Iowa went first, holding its quaint and quirky precinct caucuses — neighbors gathered in church halls, school libraries and the like as they worked through arcane rules involving “realignment” and “viability thresholds” — followed by New Hampshire’s first-in-the-nation primary.

In 2024, President Biden shook things up.

He’d failed miserably in Iowa in his runs for president, so Biden had no problem slotting South Carolina first after the state resurrected his lifeless 2020 candidacy. (Iowa didn’t help itself by making a thorough mess of its 2020 caucuses, taking nearly a month to certify a winner.)

The change set off a free-for-all this time around, as a dozen states bid for the chance to vote first.

(The two major political parties set the rules for choosing their presidential nominees, independent of one another. Republicans are expected to stick to the traditional lineup, starting with the Iowa caucuses and New Hampshire primary, followed by contests in Nevada and South Carolina.)

Last month, after nearly a year of consideration, the Democratic Party’s Rules and Bylaws Committee voted for six states to hold their contests in a window between late January and the end of February. They are, in order, South Carolina, Nevada, New Hampshire, New Mexico, Michigan and Virginia. The lineup will be presented to the full Democratic National Committee to be voted on and finalized later this month.

Doubtless, you — a normal person — have paid little or no attention to any of this. You’ve got more important things to do, like binge-watching “Widow’s Bay,” or not melting.

But party leaders and political insiders take the process extremely seriously. At stake: bragging rights, a modest economic boost and the chance for local analysts and office-holders to make frequent appearances as experts on the cable-TV chat shows.

The jostling grew particularly fierce between South Carolina and Nevada.

More than 50% of the Democratic primary electorate in South Carolina is Black. In Nevada, Latinos are a substantial and increasingly powerful voting bloc. So, naturally, the competition between the two states assumed fraught racial overtones, which is unfortunate but not surprising, given Democrats’ penchant for picking at sore spots and turning on each other at the slightest provocation.

It was also rather pointless. The order of the presidential calendar is consequential, but far from determinative.

South Carolina was vital to Biden’s success. But so, too, was the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, which sharply curtailed the Democratic nominating fight. Barack Obama’s 2008 victory in Iowa gave him a huge lift, but he lost to Hillary Clinton the following week in New Hampshire and had to fight another six months before winning the nomination.

As exports plummet owing to a ban on U.S. wine and liquor, California lawmakers ask Quebec’s premier to sidestep the president, lift the prohibition and promote free trade. Her response: Non!

Presidential campaigns have changed drastically in the 50 years since a little-known Jimmy Carter quietly burrowed into Iowa, spent months bunking in folks’ extra bedrooms, then burst to national fame by outperforming his more prominent rivals. Today, the race is a 24/7 affair, followed by voters in all 50 states.

While local concerns may come up here and there — the proposed Yucca Mountain nuclear waste dump in Nevada, beach erosion in South Carolina’s Lowcountry — the same issues and controversies confront candidates and animate the contest regardless of whether a field of soybeans, a white church steeple or a Southern fish fry serves as the backdrop.

Obviously, the voting has to begin somewhere and the competition between states is well and good. But the trash-talking and, especially, antagonism over race and ethnicity is gratuitous and needlessly divisive. Candidates will show they have the stuff to win the nomination, or not, by building their best case and pitching it to voters.

No matter if it’s a Black church in Las Vegas or a Latino neighborhood in North Charleston. Any location will do.

Perspectives

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Ideas expressed in the piece

  • The article argues that the 2028 Democratic presidential race will be unusually wide open, with potential same‑state rivalries, generational divides and ideological splits, and that the fight over the calendar is an early, revealing skirmish in those broader intra‑party tensions.
  • The piece suggests that the contest over which state votes first in 2028 is mostly about bragging rights, modest economic benefits and media visibility for local politicians and pundits, rather than a truly decisive factor in choosing the nominee.
  • The article contends that the jostling between South Carolina, with its majority Black Democratic electorate, and Nevada, with its substantial Latino voting bloc, has taken on “fraught racial overtones” that reflect Democrats’ tendency to pick at internal sore spots and turn on one another, and that this framing of the competition by race and ethnicity is both unfortunate and needlessly divisive.
  • The piece argues that while the order of contests is “consequential,” it is far from determinative: past campaigns like Joe Biden’s 2020 resurgence in South Carolina and Barack Obama’s mixed early results in Iowa and New Hampshire show that other forces—from national events to long nomination battles—matter more than which state votes first.
  • The article emphasizes that modern presidential campaigns are national, 24/7 affairs followed by voters across all 50 states, so the same broad issues and controversies tend to dominate regardless of whether the backdrop is a Midwestern farm, a New England town hall or a Southern fish fry, making the calendar fight largely overblown.
  • The piece suggests that while competition among states for the first slot is “well and good,” the trash‑talking and calendar‑driven antagonism over race and ethnicity are gratuitous, and that candidates will ultimately prove themselves by building a strong case and presenting it effectively to voters in any community—whether in a Black church or a Latino neighborhood—rather than by benefiting from a particular state’s position on the calendar.
  • The article also underscores that most ordinary voters pay little or no attention to these calendar disputes, implicitly criticizing party insiders for obsessing over process while the public is focused on daily life and more immediate concerns.

Different views on the topic

  • DNC officials and many Democratic strategists argue that revising the early‑state calendar is a substantive reform, not a symbolic squabble, because the states that vote first can shape momentum, media narratives and fundraising, and therefore significantly influence which candidates emerge as viable contenders - [1]- [2].
  • Supporters of elevating South Carolina contend that putting the state first corrects a longstanding imbalance in which largely white electorates in Iowa and New Hampshire had outsized influence; they argue that a primary where more than half of Democratic voters are Black gives the party’s core base a decisive early voice and better aligns the process with Democratic demographics and values - [1]- [2].
  • Nevada Democrats and their allies insist that their state offers the “first true test” for 2028 because it is a competitive general‑election battleground with a large and growing Latino population, strong union presence and Western policy concerns, and they argue that an early Nevada contest forces candidates to demonstrate appeal to a diverse coalition crucial to winning the White House - [1]- [2].
  • Defenders of New Hampshire’s traditional “first in the nation” role argue that sidelining the state undermines the retail politics and face‑to‑face campaigning that have allowed lesser‑known candidates to break through; they warn that diminishing New Hampshire’s status risks turning the early stages of the race into a contest dominated by national media and big money, contrary to the article’s suggestion that calendar order is only marginally important - [2].
  • Some party activists and officials maintain that where voting begins does influence which issues rise to national prominence: early contests in places like Nevada, South Carolina or Michigan can push concerns such as union rights, voting access, racial justice, immigration and industrial policy onto the national agenda in ways that differ from the priorities of Iowa or New Hampshire - [1]- [2].
  • Additionally, many Democrats view the intense debate over race and ethnicity in the calendar as necessary rather than gratuitous, arguing that directly confronting which communities—Black, Latino, white rural or others—get the earliest and most influential say in choosing nominees is central to building a fairer and more representative party coalition, even if those discussions are uncomfortable and contentious - [1]- [2].
  • Some analysts describe the DNC’s move away from Iowa and New Hampshire and toward a six‑state “gauntlet” beginning in South Carolina on January 22 and continuing through Nevada, New Hampshire, New Mexico, Michigan and Virginia as a major strategic shift that will reshape campaign travel, messaging and organizing, underscoring their belief that the calendar will materially affect the 2028 nomination fight - [2].