Worried about a convention clash, Democrats woo uncommitted delegates

Thousands of demonstrators are expected in the streets and the parks of Chicago for next week’s Democratic National Convention, most of them to protest the U.S. role in the war in the Gaza Strip. But officials are concerned about the potential for a more embarrassing spectacle: prime-time disruptions inside the arena itself.

About 30 uncommitted delegates representing the Democratic primary voters who opposed President Joe Biden — largely over what they see as his tilt toward Israel in the brutal war launched after the Hamas attacks in October — will have unfettered access to make their voices heard. State party leaders, led by Lavora Barnes, chair of the Michigan Democratic Party, and Ken Martin, chair of the Democratic-Farmer-Labor Party in Minnesota, have for months worked to defuse tensions and head off a high-profile clash.

Those diplomatic efforts, along with the elevation of Vice President Kamala Harris to replace Biden as the Democratic nominee, have yielded progress, people on both sides said. But as of now, the delegates are still planning to make their presence at the proceedings known, threatening the overwhelming display of unity that Democrats hope to project heading into the fall campaign.

“I have seen a change in their response to the new ticket, a hope and an openness to conversation,” Barnes said in an interview, both of the uncommitted delegates and of the sizable Arab American community in her pivotal swing state.

“I know these folks are anxious to be part of the process; they’re anxious to defeat Donald Trump. They recognize Donald Trump is not part of the answer here.”

In interviews, uncommitted delegates agreed to a point, saying they recognized the threat posed to their communities and to Palestinians by Trump, whose administration gave the government of Israel all it asked for and who has used the word “Palestinian” as an epithet. Trump’s son-in-law, Jared Kushner, and his former ambassador to Israel have spoken of plans to press Israel to annex the occupied West Bank and to develop “Gaza’s waterfront property.”

But the delegates have demands that will almost certainly not be met before the convention begins, including a private meeting with Harris, an arms embargo on Israel and a change to the Democratic platform moving U.S. foreign policy away from Israel.

They have also pushed for privileges related to the convention itself, such as speaking time for delegates, credentials for staff connected to the uncommitted movement, training space inside the hall and a prominent speaking slot for Tanya Haj-Hassan, a pediatric intensive care doctor who has volunteered in Gaza.

Short of that, said Layla Elabed, one of the founders of the Uncommitted protest organization and a Palestinian American in Michigan, the uncommitted delegates have promised their presence will be known in the United Center, the Chicago arena where the convention’s prime-time show will unfold.

They plan news conferences, candle light vigils, tables to distribute literature and, they hope, guest testimonies about life in war-torn Gaza.

But broader efforts to ease the anger of Palestinian rights activists and uncommitted delegates have not been easy.

Minnesota will have the largest number of uncommitted delegates at the convention, 11, but the rest are scattered.

Michigan has only two delegates and one alternate delegate, but the state is of outsize importance, given its Muslim American and Arab American populations. For more than a year, Ahmad Ramadan, the Michigan party’s executive director of coalitions, has been meeting with Arab American and Muslim American leaders — more than 100 meetings ranging from two participants to 50 — to hear them out and to ease their concerns. Three weeks ago, the party hired three people from the Arab American community to ramp up the effort.

Minnesota’s Democratic Party, known as the DFL, has used a soft-sell strategy, including the state’s 11 uncommitted delegates in all the meetings and the conference calls of the delegation to make them feel welcome, informing them of hotel assignments and inviting them to breakfasts and events in Chicago.

“The only way to maximize party unity is to help all of our delegates have a good experience, regardless of their ideology, and to avoid counterproductive strong arming,” said Darwin Forsyth, a DFL spokesperson.

The approach has had some effect: One uncommitted delegate, Jim Hepworth of Apple Valley, Minnesota, has committed to Harris, after consulting with many of the 16% of voters in his congressional district who had also cast protest votes against Biden.

In an interview, Hepworth praised the party for its fair treatment of the delegation, but he conceded that what swung him was the pleadings of his two teenage granddaughters, huge fans of the new Democratic standard-bearer.

That, he said, and Gov. Tim Walz of Minnesota, the new vice presidential nominee, whom he knows personally. Walz, he recalled, called him almost immediately after a heart attack six years ago to check on him.

But so far, Hepworth is an anomaly. The other uncommitted delegates remain just that — uncommitted.

That matters little in terms of the Democratic Party’s operations, as Harris officially secured the nomination after a virtual roll call vote with what the Democratic National Committee said was 99% support of the 4,567 delegates who cast ballots. But it means the potential for disruption remains.

Some of the efforts to bring uncommitted delegates closer have at times exacerbated tensions. For instance, Abbas Alawieh, one of Michigan’s uncommitted delegates and another founder of the Uncommitted organization, was invited late last month to a Zoom call convened by the Michigan Democratic Party to nominate Harris for the presidency.

Alawieh, an Arab American and one of the 101,430 Michiganders who voted “uncommitted” in the state’s primary in March, took the opportunity to implore his fellow delegates to reach out to people like him. Another delegate unmuted and told him to shut up, adding an expletive.

“None of our Democratic leaders in this state spoke up to say that’s not who we are,” Alawieh said at a Middle Eastern coffee shop in Dearborn, Michigan, last week. “We need to get past that as a Democratic Party, and I think that starts with Vice President Harris, demonstrating from the top that she takes our community seriously.”

Barnes expressed deep regret for the insult hurled at Alawieh: “I am shocked that it happened,” she said. “I am angry that it happened.”

Yaz Kader, a Palestinian American registered nurse in Seattle and one of two uncommitted delegates from Washington, suggested there is still time for Democratic officials to stave off disruptions.

“It’s not unrealistic to begin to have this conversation” before the convention begins Monday, he said, if not with Harris than with her White House or campaign staff.

Harris, who has distinguished herself from Biden in tone if not policy, calling for an immediate cease-fire and pledging to “not be silent” on Palestinian suffering, indicated last week that she was open to the idea.

Alawieh and Elabed were invited to the photo line with Harris and Walz before the Democrats’ rally Wednesday night at a hangar at the Detroit airport.

Individually, they told the vice president of their request for a private meeting to discuss an immediate arms embargo.

Elabed described breaking down in tears, holding Harris’ arm while the vice president held hers.

“I said, Michigan voters want to support you, but our families are dying,” said Elabed. The vice president, she said, responded sympathetically, “Yes, it’s horrific,” and motioned to aides to set up the meeting.

That meeting hasn’t happened yet, and Alawieh and Elabed are not placated, they said. It would not be enough to be offered a speaking slot or two at the convention without real change: a shift in the party platform and a commitment to reordering U.S. priorities in the Middle East.

“We can’t exchange the lives of Palestinians for speaking time,” Elabed said.

This article originally appeared in The New York Times.

© 2024 The New York Times Company