Newsom Won’t Run Against Harris If She Enters 2028 Race

When you picture a California governor trying to picture his future in the White House, you probably imagine glossy campaign ads and a polished campaign trail. Instead, picture him waist‑deep in a shallow lake, fishing pole in hand, looking more like a weekend hobbyist than a presidential hopeful. That’s exactly where Gavin Newsom found himself on a sunny September afternoon, chatting with CNN’s Jake Tapper.

“I don’t know if she runs, but we’ll see,” the 58‑year‑old said, eyes flicking to the water as a trout darted past. The “she” in question? Kamala Harris, the former vice president and, according to Newsom, the one person whose candidacy could turn his own presidential ambitions into a self‑defeating gamble.

Tapper, perhaps expecting the usual political bravado, nudged further: “You’ve been talking about 2028. What if Harris decides to throw her hat in the ring?” Newsom’s reply was almost a whisper, tinged with a weary humor that seemed to acknowledge the long‑standing rivalry between the two California power‑brokers.

“I wouldn’t run if she ran,” he said, pausing for effect, the sound of the lake’s gentle lapping punctuating his words. “I wouldn’t do that to her; I wouldn’t do that to you. I wouldn’t waste everyone’s time. Who needs that?” He then added a phrase that sounded like something lifted straight from a Cold War textbook: “mutually assured destruction.”

What does that even mean in today’s political climate? In plain English, Newsom is basically saying a showdown between two Californians would split the Democratic base, likely handing the general election to the opposition. It’s a strategic concession wrapped in a somewhat theatrical metaphor.

The two have a history that reads like a modern‑day political saga. Both were sworn in as state officials on the same day two decades ago, rose through the ranks of San Francisco politics under the mentorship of Willie Brown, and have since danced a complicated duet—sometimes in step, often out of sync.

In July, a former staffer who once had an affair with Newsom when he was mayor of San Francisco recalled how Harris once gave her “the best advice”: “Just pause. More time will give you better perspective.” The anecdote resurfaced in Vanity Fair, underscoring how intertwined their personal and professional lives have become.

Fast‑forward to December 2024, when The New York Times reported that Harris, then a presidential contender, stayed tight‑lipped when asked whether she would ever endorse a “President Newsom.” Her coy response—“He has to make that decision if he wants to run first”—only added fuel to the speculation.

Newsom’s camp has quietly been courting Harris loyalists, tapping her former chief of staff and campaign consultants to keep tabs on any moves she might make. Meanwhile, Harris’ memoir, “107 Days,” reveals that Newsom never returned her call on the night former President Joe Biden withdrew from the 2024 race—a snub that, according to some insiders, left a lingering chill.

Even during an October video‑game livestream—yes, the governor was streaming a popular shooter while fielding political questions—Newsom tried to get clarification from Harris about that very anecdote. She replied, “On book tour. Get back to you later.” The exchange, brief as it was, felt like a modern‑day diplomatic back‑channel.

So, what does all this mean for the 2028 Democratic primary? If Harris decides to run, Newsom’s statement suggests he would step aside, perhaps throwing his support behind her or at least avoiding a bruising primary battle. If she stays out, the field remains wide open, and Newsom could very well become the most vocal, unapologetic contender.

For now, the governor remains in his fishing gear, casting lines and, metaphorically, casting a vote of confidence in a fellow Californian—though only if she chooses to enter the race. The rest, as they say in politics, is up for speculation.