Fight: Inside the Wildest Battle for the White House

Donald Trump, the 45th President of the United States and the Republican nominee in 2024, is a paradoxical figure: deeply polarizing and widely disapproved of, yet expert at navigating and shaping the modern political and media landscape. Though his approval ratings remained low throughout his political career, Trump managed to rebrand himself as a resilient, aggrieved outsider even though he had always been influential, wealthy, and privileged. His campaign is characterized by theatricality, populist messaging, and an unparalleled ability to dominate media cycles. Surviving an assassination attempt and capitalizing on the resulting public sympathy, Trump built a mythos of divine survival and dogged perseverance that energized his base.

Trump’s influence in the text lies in his command of narrative and his manipulation of media to obscure his lack of substantive policy or ethical standing. His campaign operated on the emotional appeal of grievance and the perception of strength. He connected with key voter blocs through alternative media outlets like podcasts and appearances with cultural influencers. While his rhetoric remained inflammatory and his policies were both incoherent and extreme, Trump succeeded by acknowledging public anxieties—especially around the economy—and framing himself as the only candidate willing to take action. In stark contrast to Harris and Biden’s abstraction-heavy messaging and rhetoric that downplayed the crises the US faced, Trump’s performative politics gave him the edge in a closely contested race, ultimately allowing him to return to power. Crucially, he also earned the popular vote in the 2024 election for the first time, despite his insistence in the two earlier races that he had won the popular vote and that the Democrats were covering up his triumph.

Kamala Harris, vice president under Joe Biden and eventual 2024 Democratic presidential nominee, emerges in the narrative as a complex candidate who grappled with a politically impossible situation. As a woman of color, Harris faced outsized scrutiny from both allies and adversaries, and her initial positioning was largely reactive: She was never intended to be the nominee but was thrust into the role after Biden’s withdrawal. Harris struggled to balance loyalty to Biden—who demanded unwavering support for his legacy in return for his endorsement—with the urgent need to chart an independent course. Her campaign was hampered by mixed messaging, a chaotic organizational structure, and a very short timeline to reach voters.

Despite these challenges, Harris had moments of rhetorical and political strength. The authors note that her debate performance against Trump was one of the campaign’s high points, injecting energy and emotional resonance into the Democratic effort. However, they argue that her inability to distance herself clearly from Biden, together with her team’s cautious, risk-averse strategy, left her vulnerable to Trump’s narrative domination. The campaign’s failure to engage with alternative media spaces, like Joe Rogan’s podcast, and missteps such as the puzzling alliance with Republican Liz Cheney, reflected a disconnect between Harris’s messaging and the cultural and political moment.

Nancy Pelosi, former speaker of the house and one of the most influential Democrats of the 21st century, had a complicated role in the 2024 campaign narrative. As a longtime ally of Biden, Pelosi initially refrained from publicly criticizing his decision to run again. However, after Biden’s catastrophic debate performance, she began subtly distancing herself, culminating in a now-infamous interview in which she declined to defend his candidacy. This refusal was interpreted as a pointed signal to the political establishment that Biden’s time had passed. While Pelosi intended to help catalyze a leadership transition, her move was widely viewed as a betrayal by Biden and his inner circle.

Pelosi’s actions reflect the broader Democratic dilemma: how to reconcile institutional loyalty with political realism. Though she acted out of concern for the party’s chances and the nation’s future, her refusal to back Harris decisively at first also highlights the hesitancy among Democratic elites to embrace Harris as a viable option. Her public silence and private skepticism fed into a media narrative of a fractured party. Pelosi is portrayed as emblematic of the old guard’s inability to let go of control even as they call for new leadership—an irony that paralleled Biden’s own failed attempts to cement his power.

Jennifer O’Malley Dillon, referred to as JOD, was Biden’s campaign manager in 2020 and a main figure in both his presidency and reelection campaign. Her role in the 2024 campaign is characterized by her immense internal power and her fraught transition into Harris’s campaign team. In the authors’ telling, JOD sought to maintain control through aggressive tactics, demanding loyalty and ensuring that all dissent was punished, even if objections were based in fact. As Biden’s cognitive and physical struggles became increasingly apparent, JOD was one of the key figures accused of gaslighting donors in Biden’s defense and lying to the public about his fitness for office. This ultimately led to a crisis of credibility when reality could no longer be denied.

When Harris inherited the campaign, JOD’s continued presence created tension. Though Harris had doubts about JOD’s leadership, she ultimately retained her in the name of stability. The authors argue that this politically expedient decision backfired, as JOD’s power plays and refusal to adapt to new leadership created disorganization and resentment among Harris’s own staff. Her influence became a symbol of continuity with Biden’s failed campaign strategy, reinforcing Harris’s difficulty in establishing her own identity. JOD’s behavior during the campaign, including her resistance to polling data that didn’t support her preconceived views, demonstrated how entrenched aides can hurt campaigns in moments that require rapid strategic recalibration.