This "loyalty" framework is unimpressive to me. This is about the future of the country, not who has "had your back" over the last year and a half.
Wes Moore, in working to prevent Biden’s fall, is helping his own rise
Maryland’s governor has been all-in for the president amid party despair, courting Black voters while urging donors and the public to stay the course.
Less than 48 hours after President Biden’s halting debate performance launched Democrats into a panic, Maryland Gov. Wes Moore was in an awkward position.
Pundits and party leaders had floated his name as a possible Biden replacement atop the ticket, and Moore, a rising Democratic star and one of the party’s most persuasive speakers, had to decide what message to give a banquet hall full of anxious Black activists in this critical swing state.
The nation’s lone Black governor — and the youngest Democrat to run a state — chose loyalty, selling 81-year-old Biden as the future.
Days later, Moore chose loyalty again as he stood in front of the White House and told reporters: “The president has always had our backs. We’re going to have his back as well.”
And on Monday, Moore remained steadfast, joining Biden on a call with the campaign’s National Finance Committee to reassure donors.
“I am thankful for him, for his leadership, because I’ve seen it firsthand,” Moore told them, according to a partial transcript from the Biden-Harris campaign. “When the odds are stacked against him, he rises. … Joe Biden has told us he is all-in this election, and I have told him that Maryland is all-in for him.”
While many surrogates have stood by Biden as questions about the president’s mental acuity threatened to undermine the Democratic ticket, Moore has been among the earliest and most forceful in setting himself on the front line of defense.
Moore has promised to go “anywhere and everywhere” to make the case for a Biden administration and given more than two dozen interviews supporting the president since the debate. He’s volunteered as both “a full-throated” advocate for Biden staying in the race and as an envoy to the disaffected Black voters crucial to a Democratic win.
“I don’t do disloyalty,” Moore, 45, said in an interview with The Washington Post. “The president is our nation’s leader, and the president is a fantastic partner for me.”
A Rhodes scholar and an Army veteran raised by a single, immigrant mother, Moore has just 18 months as a politician under his belt and his
own moonshot policy goals.
He needs a federal partner to help keep
his campaign promises that require an infusion of federal cash — among them, ending child poverty, delivering 100 percent clean energy and building a multibillion-dollar
transit line in Baltimore to combat generations of disinvestment.
Back in February,
Biden singled out Moore — who has also been an investment banker, a nonprofit chief and published five books — as a rising force during a Black history month event at the White House, telling the crowd to “watch this guy.”
In returning that affection since the debate, Moore has become a test case in whether Biden
could keep his promise to be a “bridge” to the next generation of Democratic leaders.
Moore told The Post that the unease he felt watching the debate was sufficiently soothed by his Oval Office meeting with Biden and Vice President Harris.
“I had real concerns,” he said. “People’s concerns should not be underestimated. … In addition to watching the president not have a good debate at all, you also saw what the alternative looks like. And the fact that Donald Trump thinks he had a good debate should be terrifying to people.”
Privately, Moore told his aides it was time for the governors to “mount up” and help Biden. The president had delivered on every promise he made to Moore — including critical assistance needed to reopen the Port of Baltimore after a container ship toppled the Francis Scott Key Bridge into the channel in March.
As Moore left the Oval Office, after watching the president talk and interact with people, he told his chief of staff, “He needs us, and I think he can do it.”
Publicly, Moore shared that the governors had a frank airing of their worries with Biden. “When you love someone, you tell the truth.”
Moore is in a pivotal moment in his political trajectory, one that could define his prominence in the Democratic Party and potentially afford him a role at the Democratic National Convention, which has launched other prominent figures, including former president Barack Obama in 2004.
Regardless of who stays atop the ticket or what happens at the convention, Moore will spend his summer as he did in his six-stop visit to Wisconsin: campaigning for the Democratic nominee while burnishing his reputation as an inspiring speaker the party needs and connecting with Black voters.
As Moore waited to speak to the Kenosha Black Coalition, the local leader introducing him spun through his many titles — a military man, a father, an entrepreneur.
“Most of all, he looks like us, right?” Alderman Kenny Harper said, prompting the room to erupt in applause.
Moore rolled through the talking points from Biden advisers — insulin costs capped at $35, Black wealth up by 60 percent — but also deployed his own. A Democratic president, he argued, was critical to his own dreams of dismantling systems that hold back Black families.
“I don’t come from a political family,” Moore said. “I had to convince members of my family to vote for me. And it’s not because my family and I aren’t cool — my family and I are cool — it’s just that I had to convince them to vote.”
“Say it again, brother,” Anthony Davis, 70, a retired Chrysler worker from Kenosha County said from the back.
“We need a surrogate that we can relate to, that a person of color can relate to,” Davis said later as his mother waited in the line to snap a photo with Moore. “Other people, they come to speak to you, and sometimes you don’t always hear what they’re saying.”
‘Everything is a policy decision’
Moore’s visit to Wisconsin was his highest-profile surrogacy bid yet, sent to help deploy the Biden campaign’s strategy to persuade Black leaders to help turn out the vote amid polling showing that significantly
fewer Black Americans plan to cast a ballot in 2024 than in 2020.
In a Washington Post-Schar School poll of swing-state voters in six key states, including Wisconsin, for example, nearly 3 out of 10 Black registered voters say they will “definitely” or “probably” vote for Trump. In a state often decided by a hairbreadth — Trump won in 2016 and Biden in 2020 — even a small shift among Black voters in Wisconsin could determine the outcome.
To the task of empowering a network of Black activists, Moore brings skills suited to the motivational speaker circuit and instant credibility.
Wisconsin Democratic Party Chairman Ben Wikler described Moore as standing apart from other surrogates for his speaking skills and ability to talk to people in any community.
“The most dangerous thing in a democracy is a feeling of helplessness,” Wikler said. “And Gov. Moore’s message to voters that they have enormous power and enormous opportunity to make a difference … that message meets a deeply felt need for people.”
At a cookout in Milwaukee, home to 70 percent of the state’s Black voters, an impromptu receiving line formed as soon as Moore’s SUV pulled onto the grass at a city park.
The line of Black community leaders stretched from the picnic pavilion’s charcoal grills to the foam machine. The speakers belted ’90s R&B, and Moore acted like he just landed at a family reunion, doling out hugs to strangers.
He asked for people’s middle names. He embraced one woman as she rubbed her cheek into his. He reluctantly autographed one woman’s book about Maryland, because he hadn’t written it.
At an earlier stop, he had happily signed three of his books for a 12-year-old boy who said his teacher had encouraged him to look at Moore as a role model. On the trail, Moore tells a deeply personal story from one of those books: When he was 3, his father died in front of him at home after being discharged from the emergency room with a treatable but deadly infection. In Wisconsin, he told a crowd how much Black men need health-care providers who understand “these unspoken realities of what it means to be a Black man in society.”
At the cookout, Moore took the mic to set the stage for what needed to be done.
“I just want to be clear, man, everything is a policy decision,” he said.
“The air that we breathe is a policy decision,” he said. “The water we drink is a policy decision. The schools our children attend is a policy decision. The transportation assets we have or don’t have is a policy decision. The way that people are policed is a policy decision. The homes that people live in, those are policy decisions.”
“Everything comes back to: Who do we have representing us and who sees us? Sees us as assets and not as deficits? Sees us not as things that need to be fixed, but things that need to be celebrated?”
Biden and Harris, he said, saw their community’s struggles and deserved the community’s help in return.
He tied his own fate to the administration’s, spinning through his own accomplishments from his first 18 months in office and saying it would not have been possible without the Biden administration’s support, including the reopening of the port, record-low unemployment and the 175,000 pardons he issued for marijuana convictions.
“I don’t come from a family that is used to making the policies,” he said in Kenosha. “Frankly, I come from a family that’s used to suffering the consequences of them.” The 8-to-1 racial wealth gap does not exist, he said, “because one group was working eight times harder.”
He told them he felt their skepticism, too.
“Honestly, cynicism will always be my companion, because I know our histories,” he said. “But we also have to be honest about this, too: It feels good to have an administration who actually wants to address the structural challenges instead of compounding them.”
“I’m going to spend these next months giving it all I’ve got,” he said. “Because our children deserve it.”
‘Next Barack Obama’
The next morning, at the end of the service at Milwaukee’s Pilgrim Rest Missionary Baptist Church, Moore took the pulpit.
Moore said that while he came on behalf of the president, he stood before them to talk about what resided within the congregation.
“I’m not here to talk about the power of Joe Biden,” he boomed. “I’m here to talk about the power of us. And our power does not come from who sits in the White House.”
“My brother, my brother,” a church leader said from the front row.
Minutes later, Moore’s team raced him across town to catch the last few hours of the service at Canaan Baptist Church. Moore, the grandson of a preacher who helped raise him, had taken notes in his personal Bible throughout both sermons and invoked the Book of Joshua. He told the faithful that their ancestors and their future needed them to put in the work before November’s election.
“I’m here in Wisconsin … because I’m talking to la-di-da-di everybody to say we need to make sure we get out there,
” he said.
“We go out there and we work. Because everything that we hoped for, everything that we inherited and everything that we dream about is on the line. And we have got to make sure that our voices are heard, and that when history is written, that our fingerprints are all over it.”
Amid the “amens” and the “that’s rights” rippling through the congregation, from the fourth pew Tommie Reed Green, 81, said aloud, “He seems to me the next Barack Obama. He does, he does.”
When the service ended, Reed Green snaked through the crowd and waited her turn to greet Moore. She whispered her Obama prediction in his ear.
Moore’s broad smile widened further.
“God bless you,” he said.