Kamala Harris Should Look to 1964—Not 1968—for Guidance

Vice President Kamala Harris’s campaign has been on a roll—stacking up key endorsements and shattering fundraising goals—ever since she emerged as the consensus Democratic nominee for president on July 22. 

Her momentum seems likely to persist through the Democratic National Convention, which begins on Aug. 19. 

But if she is to maintain her momentum after the convention and attract additional voters to her cause, she will need to lay out a clear vision of what a Harris Administration would stand for and the policies she would pursue. It will be a tricky maneuver, especially if those policies diverge from President Joe Biden’s.

History suggests that an incumbent vice president seeking the White House can be hamstrung by a president who has exited the race. Hubert Humphrey faced that challenge in 1968 after President Lyndon Johnson decided to forego reelection largely because of the ongoing and unpopular Vietnam War. Humphrey needed to distance himself from Johnson on the war, but doing so created friction with the president and proved difficult. 

These events have shaped the current conversation about Biden’s withdrawal, but the more instructive episode for the present moment came four years earlier, when Johnson was thrust into the spotlight at a moment’s notice. Johnson’s success at shedding the image of a discounted and frequently maligned vice president and scoring a record-setting presidential election victory illuminates why mapping out a program and a vision that can energize the Democratic base—while also appealing to independents and some Republicans—is so critical.

The circumstances that landed Johnson in power were abrupt and tragic. Riding two cars behind President John F. Kennedy in Dallas on Nov. 22, 1963, Johnson found himself on the floorboards of his limousine after shots rang out in Dealey Plaza. Roughly two hours later, Johnson took the presidential oath of office on Air Force One, with Kennedy’s body in the back of the plane and his widow by Johnson’s side.

Read More: Biden Drops Out of Presidential Race, Endorses Harris to Replace Him

The horrific events of that afternoon transformed Johnson, who had been estranged from Kennedy’s inner circle and despondent in a job with little power. Before assuming the vice presidency, Johnson had been arguably the most successful Senate Majority Leader in history. But as Kennedy’s number two, Johnson had been consigned to symbolic foreign travel, stewardship of the country’s space effort, and leadership of a toothless presidential committee on equal employment opportunity. He was the butt of jokes, cast aside by Attorney General Robert Kennedy—the President’s younger brother and Johnson’s arch-nemesis—as well as by John Kennedy’s inner circle.

There was even speculation that Kennedy might dump Johnson from the ticket in 1964, with Johnson himself musing about throwing in the towel. In short, he was miserable.

But the tragedy in Dallas, in Johnson’s home state of Texas no less, changed everything.

Johnson grabbed the reins of power, led the country through its period of mourning, and passed bills on taxes, foreign aid, and civil rights that Kennedy had introduced before his murder. In fact, Johnson grasped the possibility of going far bigger than his advisers recommended, or than his predecessor had imagined was possible. Responding to pleas that he sidestep legislation on civil rights, Johnson countered, “Well, what the hell’s the presidency for?” In fact, he labeled Kennedy as “too conservative” for his taste and pledged a more dramatic expansion of the welfare state. 

Within six weeks of assuming the presidency, he had announced a “War on Poverty” and committed the state to funding improvements and opportunities in education, jobs, health, and housing. And less than five months later, he articulated the much grander vision of what he called his “Great Society,” a sweeping effort to combine national prosperity with social equality.  That vision of a more compassionate, just, and equitable society, as well as early victories on key pieces of legislation, propelled Johnson to a landslide electoral triumph in 1964. It was a remarkable turnaround for a political figure once consigned to the wilderness. 

But it wasn’t just legislative success that propelled Johnson to a smashing electoral victory. His own evolution on social justice, as well as his centrist positioning, were just as important. During his vice presidency, Johnson had expanded his understanding of the civil rights crisis and the pernicious effects of racism in America, deepening his concern for the disadvantaged and his desire to lift up the downtrodden. Both the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Economic Opportunity Act of that same year—a measure Johnson could claim as his own—testified to his liberal bona fides.

Yet, despite his liberal achievements, Johnson also positioned himself as a mainstream politician—a compassionate yet business-friendly candidate at home and a steadfast, though rational, Cold Warrior abroad. It was a winning combination: Johnson reassured the party faithful of his commitment to liberalism, while steering clear of its more radical voices; and his adherence to budget ceilings and bipartisan solutions ushered into the Johnson camp centrists and moderate Republicans repelled by GOP candidate Barry Goldwater and his extremist stances on nuclear weapons and the welfare state.

Read More: President LBJ Wrestled With Social Justice, War, and Unrest. His Legacy Is Still Relevant

Like Johnson, Harris has labored in her role as vice president. She was assigned the daunting challenges of regional migration and border security and has struggled to present an air of competence in these areas. Reports of dysfunction within her office also have cast doubt on her management skills. While Harris was forceful in efforts to secure voting rights, opposition to filibuster reform from Arizona Senator Kyrsten Sinema and West Virginia Senator Joe Manchin doomed the effort. Nevertheless, she has been the Administration’s leading voice on reproductive rights, an issue Democrats have used effectively in statewide contests to rally supporters.

But with Biden’s recent departure from the presidential race, Harris has stepped into the spotlight with a newfound sense of vigor and confidence. The Democratic Party’s rapid embrace of her candidacy no doubt buttressed that image. But like Johnson, Harris has had the chance to chart her own path, to champion the policies and positions she holds most dear, and to stump for them in a voice more convincing and authentic than previously available. The impact has been electric: her polling numbers have improved dramatically, she has raised extraordinary amounts of cash, and the party heads into its convention coalescing around their new candidate.

To be sure, the 1964 parallels—like all parallels—are inexact. Johnson and Harris brought very different baggage to their campaigns, and they became their party’s standard bearers under wildly dissimilar circumstances. But in emerging from the shadows in a moment’s notice, both figures embraced the opportunity to take center stage and reintroduce themselves to voters in full.

Harris’s job is complicated by the delicacies of serving a sitting president. Yet, here too, the parallel with Johnson is instructive. Though he got to sell his program from the Oval Office rather than as the number two, Johnson remained burdened by the mystique of Camelot, along with lingering doubts about his liberal sympathies. But once empowered to pursue his dream of a “Great Society,” Johnson rode that vision to electoral victory, vanquishing his Republican opponent, who offered a darker, less inclusive, and more divisive approach to national and international life.

The lessons of Johnson’s victory for Harris are clear. She needs to continue to amplify themes and policies that cut to her core like criminal justice and reproductive freedom. But she’ll also need to project centrist positions on several matters, from border security, to health care, to energy, to gun control. That will enable her to thread the needle like Johnson did, to mobilize the Democratic base— including those who were disillusioned with Biden and planning to sit out the race altogether— and appeal to independents and Republicans turned off by Donald Trump’s style and dark vision. Though Harris only has 100 days to make her case, the example of Lyndon Johnson illustrates that the opportunity to do so is there for the taking.

Marc J. Selverstone is professor and director of Presidential Studies at the University of Virginia’s Miller Center of Public Affairs. He is the author most recently of The Kennedy Withdrawal: Camelot and the American Commitment to Vietnam (Harvard University Press, 2022).

Made by History takes readers beyond the headlines with articles written and edited by professional historians. Learn more about Made by History at TIME here. Opinions expressed do not necessarily reflect the views of TIME editors.