EDITORIAL: If ever a presidential campaign season needed the Al Smith Dinner, it is this one.
“A campaign can require a lot of wardrobe change,” a tuxedoed Mitt Romney remarked at the Alfred E. Smith Memorial Foundation Dinner in 2012.
“Blue jeans in the morning perhaps, suits for a lunch fundraiser, sport coat for dinner. But it’s nice to finally relax and to wear what Ann and I wear around the house,” the 2012 Republican presidential nominee quipped.
The audience, composed of leaders in business, media and politics, roared in laughter — Romney had been pilloried by his opponent, President Barack Obama, as a callous corporatist throughout the grueling campaign. But with this self-deprecating joke, Romney momentarily lifted the window on American politics for some much-needed fresh air while humanizing himself in the process.
It was a classic Al Smith dinner moment, one of many from the decades-long tradition of presidential nominees coming together to raise money for needy children in the Archdiocese of New York. At the event, held every third Thursday of October in presidential election years for nearly the past 80 years, the bitterest political foes have donned their finery and traded good-natured barbs for a good cause. It is a quintessentially Catholic event that reminds us of the importance of having a good sense of humor and harks back to a time when grace, wit, the ability to laugh at oneself and civility toward one’s opponent were not so rare in politics.
So, it was unfortunate to learn that Vice President Kamala Harris has declined an invitation to the event, opting instead to spend time on the campaign trail. That’s a shame. Her absence will be only the second by a presidential nominee in the dinner’s history. Walter Mondale declined his invitation in 1984.
To be sure, presidential campaigns are always a brutal and unforgiving enterprise. But the 2024 race, which has seen one nominee survive two assassination attempts and another forced to drop out from the race due to declining cognition, has been unusually grim. If ever a presidential campaign needed an evening of levity, it is this one.
Harris’ absence from the dinner, from which a bevy of diverting highlights inevitably emerge, is a missed opportunity for the candidate as much as it is a loss for the country, which could use a dose of good, old-fashioned political humor and civility. Since taking over the top of the Democratic ticket, Harris has campaigned on the theme of “joy” — an evening of laughter and goodwill would seem to be an ideal opportunity to show herself as the “happy warrior” she purports to be.
Obviously, Harris’ radical pro-abortion stance puts her sharply at odds with the Church’s unwavering defense of the right to life. There are points of real tension with Trump, as well. The Archdiocese of New York invited both candidates despite those differences, out of respect for our electoral process and the office they seek.
On Monday morning, Cardinal Timothy Dolan of New York expressed disappointment at Harris’ decision, saying he had looked forward to “giving the vice president an enthusiastic welcome.” He then wryly noted that Walter Mondale, who declined the dinner’s invitation, lost 49 of 50 states.
Harris rightly earned plaudits for walking across the stage and shaking Trump’s hand before the presidential debate in Philadelphia early this month. In the same spirit, we join Cardinal Dolan in hoping she and her staff reconsider and give the country a break from political rancor — for one night, at least.