Before Kamala Harris and Joe Biden were bitter rivals, they were friends. That much was obvious in 2017 on the day Biden, then the outgoing vice president, swore in Harris as just the second African-American woman ever elected to the Senate.
"Promise me, when I'm no longer vice president, you won't say, 'Joe who?' " he joked to a dozen of Harris's closest friends and family who had come to see her get sworn in. With everyone in happy laughter, Harris gave Biden a pat on the back, the way you might a kindly grandfather. "Why don't we have a standing get-together for coffee?" she said. "You can tell me some stories and give me some advice."
What advice would Biden give Harris today if they were having that coffee, as the two brawl for the Democratic nomination for president and continue to battle over Biden's record on race? Probably, keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. Because in presidential politics, it can be hard to tell the difference.
Before their debate in Miami last month, Biden described Harris as a friend, and she was. More important, she had been close friends with Beau Biden, his oldest son, who died from brain cancer four years ago. On the anniversary of Beau's death, Harris tweeted a note of sympathy to the Biden family. "Thinking of @JoeBiden, @DrBiden and the entire Biden family today. Four years after his passing, I still miss him."
It was Beau's friendship with Harris that the elder Biden pointed to in 2016 as the reason behind his decision to endorse Harris in the California Senate race against Democrat Loretta Sanchez, the California congresswoman who had worked with Biden in Washington for years.
Theirs was also the friendship that Harris had described as she introduced the vice president at the California Democratic Convention months earlier, which she had asked him to attend on her behalf. "California Democrats, I say from my personal experience that the Biden family truly represents our nation's highest ideals," she said as she introduced him to the assembled party loyalists in San Jose.
So you can forgive Biden when, three years later, he seemed unprepared for the moment at the debate when Harris took him to task for praising segregationist senators and ripped into him for his opposition to forced school busing decades ago. As Biden stood close by stone-faced, she told the story of a little girl in California who was part of the second class to integrate the Berkeley public schools. "That little girl was me," Harris said.
For Biden, who has preached the gospel of Sen. Mike Mansfield his entire career — "Joe, it's OK to question a man's judgment, but never his motivations" — the moment left him looking shocked and wounded, completely taken aback that Harris would impugn his motives on race in America. But it should also have been a wake-up call for Biden, a four-alarm siren telling him that the politics that he came up in are a thing of the past. If he wants to be a part of the politics of the future, he needs to change, too.