Opinion / Christopher Lord
Second in line
What’s a vice-president for, anyway? America’s first, John Adams, wondered the same thing, calling it, “The most insignificant office that ever the invention of man contrived or his imagination conceived.” Every “veep” has to make the job their own. Since landing in Los Angeles earlier this month I’ve been struck by the daily ire that’s dished out to Kamala Harris (pictured); not just by the press but also casually by those who came into contact with her when she held various high posts in Californian politics and say that reports of a chaotic office in Washington are not exactly news to them.
No doubt, Harris has struggled to find a vice-presidential role that clicks. She was handed poisoned-chalice portfolios, such as immigration, and her cheery public demeanour chafes Americans who desire grave leaders in uncertain times. Yet she has fared better outside the US. In November, at the height of the criticism about her back home, Harris was dispatched to Paris after the US snubbed France over its new Aukus defence plan. Pictured in a bleuet de France lapel flower, clasping arms with Macron, the trip became a rare bright light in her press coverage. The verdict was that relations were “chummy” and “back on track”, even if she was then pilloried for buying a pricey cooking pot on the rue Coquillière.
If 2021 taught us anything about the Biden administration, it’s that the current occupant of the White House believed in “America First” long before the last. From Afghanistan to Aukus, Joe Biden has shown that he’s not afraid to bewilder or barrel over US allies on the strength of his convictions. Perhaps such an administration calls for a vice-president who can smooth ruffled feathers. Cheery is no bad thing either: after the hard-nosed Trump years, America’s overseas outreach could bear to be a bit more, well, Californian. That’s a role for a vice-president – not just waiting in the wings for a shot at the top job or to step in should the worst happen.