In October 2024, Kamala Devi Harris stood tall on the stage in Clarkston, Georgia, her voice unwavering as supporters roared. “We will win!” the crowd shouted, and Harris, with a knowing smile, echoed, “Or as a certain former president would say, ‘Yes, we can.’” The audience responded in unison, “Yes, we can.”

Harris stands at the intersection of many firsts—the first Black woman to be elected district attorney in California, the first woman to serve as the state’s attorney general and the first Asian American senator. Now, as vice president, and the presidential nominee, she carries the dual legacy of being both the first Black and South Asian woman—a multifaceted identity that resonates with many, but also invites heightened scrutiny. Her journey presents a fascinating and complicated profile of political ambition and ideological evolution, caught between the shifting demands of progressives, centrists and critics from the Right and Left alike. To understand Harris entirely is to confront these complexities.

Harris’ stint as a prosecutor in California—first as district attorney of San Francisco and later as attorney general—remains one of the most polarising chapters of her career. She framed her work as a “progressive prosecutor”, emphasising reform from within the system. However, the realities of her tenure have led many to argue that her approach disproportionately harmed Black and Brown communities. Her office aggressively prosecuted low-level drug offenses, including marijuana-related charges, despite her later public support for legalisation. In one controversial case, she defended California’s policy of keeping people incarcerated even after courts deemed their sentences unlawful, citing labour shortages in the state’s prison system. During her tenure as district attorney of San Francisco, the city’s conviction rate jumped from 52 per cent to 67 per cent within her first three years in office. Policies like these have drawn sharp rebukes from activists, with some arguing that Harris represented the status quo of “tough-on-crime” policies dressed in progressive language.

As California’s attorney general, one of Harris’ signature initiatives was Open Justice, an online platform aimed at improving police accountability by publishing data on deaths and injuries in police custody. While the programme earned praise for promoting transparency, Harris faced criticism for failing to more aggressively confront police violence. Her detractors argue that these compromises alienated progressives, setting the stage for deeper ideological conflicts when she reached national office.

As the Democratic nominee for president, Harris is tasked with bridging the divide between the Democratic Party’s left wing and its centrist faction. She has proposed policies such as making the child tax credit permanent, expanding Social Security, tackling price-gouging in healthcare and passing the Protecting the Right to Organise (PRO) Act to strengthen labour unions. These initiatives align with key elements of the Biden administration’s broader economic agenda, which has received praise from both labour groups and progressives. However, she has also drawn ire for backtracking on earlier positions. For instance, she retreated from her 2019 endorsement of Medicare for All and abandoned her call for a ban on fracking, which many saw as a betrayal of progressive ideals.

Her record on immigration is similarly mixed. As vice president, she was tasked with addressing the root causes of migration from Central America, a role that led to backlash from both Republicans and Democrats. While conservatives accused her of neglecting border security, progressives criticised her for discouraging asylum seekers from making the dangerous journey to the US border. The centrist positions she opts for have left her vulnerable to attacks from all sides: too liberal for conservatives and too cautious for progressives. Her shift towards the political centre reflects a broader challenge facing the Democratic Party as it seeks to balance competing factions. In a closely divided America, centrism can be a pragmatic strategy, but it risks alienating the progressive base that has powered the party’s resurgence in recent years.

Despite these shifts, Harris has remained firm on contentious issues, particularly regarding US foreign policy and relations with Israel. Critics accuse her of endorsing an “ethnonationalist apartheid state”, citing her unwavering support for Israel’s military actions in Gaza, which has killed hundreds and thousands of Palestinians and around 175 journalists. In her recent statements, Harris reiterated her commitment to Israel’s right to self-defense, a stance that drew sharp disapproval from advocates for Palestinian rights and human rights organisations. The US administration’s continued military aid to Israel, even in the face of allegations of war crimes, has deepened disillusionment among some Democratic voters. In a harsh rebuke, Indian writer Pankaj Mishra drew comparisons to other leaders of non-Western ancestry whose policies reflect far-right ideals rather than hope for social justice. Such incendiary rhetoric underscores the widening rift between those who once saw Harris as a beacon of diversity and those who now view her as a figurehead for an increasingly militarised and neoliberal political order.

The American economy thrives on warfare. Wars have become a linchpin, propping up a military-industrial complex that drives much of the nation’s policy. The recent Afghanistan crisis is a stark example: for two decades, the US funnelled approximately $250 million each day into the region—a staggering sum of taxpayer dollars. Most of this money, however, wasn’t aimed at rebuilding communities or improving lives but instead found its way back into American arms industries. Research conducted by Brown University shows that these funds were largely used to buy and support American-made weapons, sustaining the very industries that profit most from it.

This pattern isn’t restricted to Afghanistan. Since the outbreak of Israel’s actions that the United Nations (UN) describes as genocide against West Asian nations, the US has extended nearly $20 billion in aid to Israel. But again, the true beneficiary remains the American arms industry, as most of that aid has been used to purchase weapons from the US defense sector. War, in these cases, is not only a battlefield but also a marketplace—one where profits reign supreme.

Amid these geopolitical entanglements, the domestic battleground is just as fierce. The Supreme Court’s 2022 decision to overturn Roe v. Wade—the half-century precedent that guaranteed the right to abortion—ignited a fresh wave of political turmoil. Harris has emerged as a defining voice in the fight for reproductive rights. She has made it her mission to highlight the devastating consequences of abortion bans and frame the battle as part of a larger fight for freedom.

During her keynote speech at the Democratic National Convention, she delivered what many consider the most consequential address of her career. Using fiery rhetoric, she accused former President Trump and the Republican Party of masterminding efforts to strip away women’s reproductive freedoms. “Simply put, they are out of their minds,” she declared, pledging to restore the protections that Roe once provided. Her campaign has been laser-focused on these issues, positioning herself as the champion of reproductive rights. Organisations like Planned Parenthood Action Fund, the Committee to Protect Health Care and Reproductive Freedom for All have thrown their weight behind her. On her campaign website, she outlines her commitment: if elected president, she vows to support legislation that would restore Roe’s protections or veto any attempt to pass a national abortion ban. With Minnesota Governor Tim Walz as her running mate, Harris emphasises a shared belief: women must have the autonomy to make decisions about their own bodies, free from government interference.

Besides, her identity as both Black and South Asian is undeniably part of her public persona. When she became the first woman of colour to serve as vice president, she was hailed as a symbol of representation and progress. For many, her presence at the highest levels of American government is profoundly meaningful, especially in a country still grappling with its long history of racial exclusion. But with visibility comes unique challenges. Harris has often had to navigate the double standards imposed on Black and Brown women in politics in the US. In the 2020 election and again in the 2024 campaign, she has faced critiques that reflect both racism and sexism. While male politicians are considered authoritative when speaking bluntly, Harris’ assertiveness is sometimes labelled abrasive. On social media and in news commentary, her laugh—once a marker of charm—has been caricatured as insincere, and her competence questioned in ways that male counterparts rarely experience.

Political scientist Nadia Brown notes that Harris’ experiences illustrate how women of colour in politics face a distinct “misogynoir”, a term that describes the intersection of sexism and racism. “We would not see these stereotypes, or these kinds of threats used against her if she were not a Black woman,” Brown told the New York Times in 2020. This scrutiny was evident on the campaign trail in 2024 when former President Trump claimed to a roomful of Black journalists that Harris “happened to turn Black” a few years ago. She has been labelled as a “Diversity, Equality and Inclusion (DEI)” hire by Republicans in a bid to undermine her credibility.

As the 2024 election approaches, Harris faces mounting pressure from all sides. Polls suggest razor-thin margins in key swing states like Pennsylvania, Michigan and Wisconsin, raising concerns about whether her candidacy can withstand the unpredictable dynamics of the campaign. Her political career encapsulates both the promise and the pitfalls of American democracy. Her rise to power as a Black and South Asian woman is undeniably historic, offering a vision of a more inclusive future. But her mixed record—marked by criminal justice controversies to foreign policy missteps—has made her a lightning rod for criticism from multiple directions. Harris’ ability to navigate these complexities will determine not only her political future but also the direction of the Democratic Party. Can she reconcile the contradictions of her career and emerge as a unifying leader? Or will her centrist pragmatism and controversial record leave her stranded between the party’s competing factions, unable to fully inspire the coalition she needs?

Whatever the outcome, one thing is sure: Harris embodies the tensions of an America still struggling to define its identity. Her journey illustrates that representation matters but it cannot shield any leader from legitimate scrutiny. Whether she will or she can, Harris needs to “act with fierce urgency”. As she herself wrote in her memoir, “Justice demands it.”

(Views expressed are personal)

Souzeina Mushtaq is Assistant Professor of Journalism at the University of Wisconsin-River Falls