I have typically steered clear of discussing the spouses of presidential candidates, and I don’t spend much time following them either. The reason is straightforward: a political marriage does not directly influence governance, and no one votes for a spouse. However, this fall, I am keen to see how Doug Emhoff navigates his duties, as what he is tasked with during this campaign is both intriguing and potentially significant.
Emhoff will take the stage in Chicago, stepping into a unique role that has never existed in American history: that of the first gentleman. While he is the second man to attempt this role—Bill Clinton being the first and a notable political figure in his own right—Clinton’s primary function in 2016 was largely about remaining in the background.
Historically, aspiring first ladies have had to maintain a careful balance before the public. They are expected to be strong individuals, yet not so strong that they overshadow the candidate. They must show passion and relatability one moment, then step back to support their partner the next.
In contrast, Emhoff’s balancing act is somewhat different. If I were crafting his speech for the event, I would want him to express admiration for Kamala Harris’s warmth and humor as a wife and stepmother, while also ensuring he stands confidently in his own right. It’s important for American men to view Harris through the lens of her husband’s appreciation, without seeing Emhoff as an overly submissive figure.
What makes Emhoff’s role especially vital goes beyond gender; it delves into issues of race and ethnicity as well. This subject is complex. Race relations in the U.S. are challenging partly because we can’t fully grasp the discussions that occur in private. Many Black Americans may assume that White individuals engage in different conversations about race when the latter are speaking among themselves, and vice versa.
Barack Obama managed to bridge some of this gap by sharing his own White family background, and as a male candidate, he avoided the stereotype of the “angry Black woman,” which Harris cannot escape.
A number of White men who might waver in their support for former President Donald Trump may have concerns that Harris, as a Black female prosecutor from California, perceives them as inherently racist or sexist. Concurrently, Harris has to navigate the sensitivities of American Jews, a significant voting bloc for the Democratic Party. Recently, she voiced her concerns about human rights in the Israel-Gaza conflict during a meeting with Israel’s prime minister, a stance likely to prompt scrutiny from some Jewish voters regarding her support for Israel.
In both scenarios, Emhoff can serve as a crucial bridge. As Harris’s chosen partner, he can reassure hesitant White voters that she does not hold animosities against them. Additionally, as an American Jew who has actively addressed antisemitism, Emhoff can communicate to Jewish voters that while Harris might be critical of Israeli leadership, she does not harbor negative feelings towards Jews or the Jewish state.
Harris’s identity as a biracial woman likely involves complicated feelings about race and power, which may be difficult for her to articulate fully. Emhoff’s role in the coming months should be to simplify these complexities. He needs to reassure segments of White voters that Kamala Harris as president presents no threat and that if there were such concerns, he would certainly recognize them.