Harris reveals Walz debate dynamic in new memoir, portrays Trump as a tyrant

Former Vice President Kamala Harris reveals in her memoir 107 Days that she believed Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz needed to be the closer at the Oct. 1, 2024 vice-presidential debate because she would not have another opportunity to face Trump on stage. The book details the decision process behind selecting Walz as her running mate and lays out what Harris portrays as a high-stakes moment for the campaign, especially given the race’s broader dynamics and the pressure to maximize debate impact.

During the debate, Harris writes, Walz “fell for it and started nodding and smiling at JD.’s fake bipartisanship,” a moment she says left her frustrated. She describes turning to her husband, Doug, and muttering, “What is happening?” as JD Vance—whom she calls a “shape-shifter”—pressed a measured, almost folksy persona. Harris also recalls telling the television screen, “You’re not there to make friends with the guy who is attacking your running mate.”

Harris contends that being the “closer” and debating on such a large stage was not a comfortable role for Walz. She says he fretted, from the outset, that he wasn’t a strong debater, and that she initially discounted his concerns, hoping his rally-day energy would translate to the podium. She writes that she expected Walz, known for his crowd-pleasing oratory at rallies, to bring the same quick, pointed style to the debate. Instead, she portrays a pattern in which Walz defended his record as a governor and, at moments, fumbled when pressed on specific claims, including an episode about being in Hong Kong during the democracy protests in Tiananmen Square.

She describes a moment in which the moderator questioned a claim about Walz’s travel dates related to China. Harris writes that Walz had been “on his way to teach in China that summer but hadn’t yet left the United States” on the date of the Tiananmen events. Instead of simply acknowledging a dates mix-up, she says he pivoted to discussing a bike ride in Nebraska, which she views as a missed opportunity to convey a stronger personal connection to events abroad. The passage is complemented by a pop-culture reference, as Harris notes that a Saturday Night Live sketch afterward captured a scene of her and Walz watching the debate with alarm—though she says she did not literally spit out wine, she describes the moment as eerily resonant with their reality.

“I doubt the debate would move polling in a meaningful way,” Harris writes, “but there was more riding on Tim’s performance than there should have been.” She explains that her thinking in selecting Walz hinged on his experience as a two-term governor and a longtime congressman, and she acknowledges that she believed his presence could steady the ticket on questions of governance and bipartisanship. Harris notes that her senior staff strongly favored Walz, as did her godson, her sister, and her brother-in-law; still, the final choice rested with her. In recounting the decision, she describes a practical ritual she used to center herself: she and Doug debated, then she stepped away to prepare a pork roast, rubbing spices into the meat as a way to clear her head. By the time she went to bed, she says, she’d decided on Walz.

Harris also writes about the emotional and familial toll of a presidential campaign. She emphasizes that the family that serves as a source of strength can become a source of strain when the attacks grow personal and unfair. She quotes a piece of veteran political wisdom she says had guided her from earlier days: “Baby, you be sure and don’t make it look too easy.” The anecdote underscores the harsh reality that public life can subject families to lasting scrutiny and pressure. Harris frames the campaign as a “brawl,” insisting that readiness to contend with rough moments is part of the job.

The memoir also revisits the process behind choosing Walz, noting that she and her team considered several other prominent Democrats, including Pennsylvania Gov. Josh Shapiro, Arizona Sen. Mark Kelly, and former Transportation Secretary Pete Buttigieg. Harris writes that the senior staff favored Walz, and that her personal reflections and input from family weighed heavily in the end. She recalls that the decision became personal in a way that went beyond resume and politics: it was about compatibility, shared values, and the ability to lead during a difficult national moment. In describing the final choice, she emphasizes that it was her decision alone, after weighing input and then turning to a simple, practical ritual to gain clarity.

Beyond the specific debate episode, the book frames Trump-era politics as a testing ground for democratic leadership. Harris also touches on broader political judgments, including her critique of Trump as a tyrant and commentary on how corporate leadership has handled national challenges. The narrative is contemporaneous with public discussions about the 2024 election and the role of the vice-presidential candidate in shaping narrative, policy emphasis, and campaign discipline. Harris’s account, through her own perspective, adds another layer to the understanding of how the 2024 ticket navigated a volatile electoral environment.

As the book moves through its timelines, it paints a portrait of a capable but stressed campaign machine trying to convert debate performance into durable political capital. The events described in 107 Days—Walz’s on-stage persona, the dynamic with JD Vance, and Harris’s decision-making process—form a milieu that attempts to explain how a campaign seeks to manage the unpredictable terrain of modern political competition. While the narrative is specific to the Harris-Walz ticket, the underlying themes—debt to staff, family pressures, and the weight of public performance—resonate with the broader debate about leadership in American politics.