[Part I of this article discussed some reasons Sanders lost the South Carolina primary, questions raised by polling, perceptions of the campaign in the Black press, and the role of the Democratic establishment.]
Could different campaign decisions have made a difference?
Black critics, including campaign staff, criticized the South Carolina campaign’s whiteness. Some complained that the national leadership ignored their pleas for more resources; the campaign was focused on winning the first three primaries, all in states without large Black populations.
The ad push on South Carolina TV and Black radio came late, just weeks before the primary, and when you compare ad expenses there to Iowa, New Hampshire and Nevada, the emphasis is very clear. FiveThirtyEight found 16 ads costing $6.42M in Iowa, 12 ads costing $1.13M in New Hampshire, 7 ads costing $990K in Nevada, but only 3 ads costing $540K in South Carolina (Fivethirtyeight’s estimated amounts). The South Carolina ads focused on issues of special concern to Black voters, but the others — the overall messaging – was on class exploitation and solidarity. Looking at the ads which come up in a YouTube search, the videos which had the most intense emotional content told stories about rustbelt decline and healthcare, or had inspiring messaging about solidarity (“us, not me”; “are you willing to fight for someone you don’t know, as much as you’re willing to fight for yourself?”).
Local staffers also said Sanders didn’t give enough “face time” to community leaders; efforts to merge ground work with local campaigns were vetoed; and there weren’t even enough yard signs to give the campaign visibility, so important in rural areas. Ja’Mal Green, who ran for mayor in Chicago and was a Sanders surrogate, criticized the “top aides” carried over from 2016 for making the same wrong decisions. More senior Black staffers were needed, and more money was needed for talking to older Black voters. This all felt like misplaced emphasis, especially when Sanders, rushing to campaign in California, missed the commemoration of the 1965 “Bloody Selma” march he had made a point of attending in 2019, missed a convention of Baptist ministers, and left before the voting results, without thanking his volunteers.
In defense, Nina Turner, national campaign co-chair who had come to direct state efforts, said that these criticisms were from state staff with “the luxury to be singularly focused” while campaign leadership “had to focus on the nation.” State leadership pointed out that Sanders attended some 70 local events and volunteers “knocked on a door a minute” and the field operation was staffed mostly by people of color. The impeachment trial, also, called Sanders to the Senate when he was needed in South Carolina.

“Only one candidate has consistently opposed every disastrous trade deal. And that candidate is Bernie Sanders.” Sanders ad shown in Midwest, March 4, 2020. Narrated by union autoworker Sean Crawford.
Strategic mistake?
The campaign seemingly underestimated the importance of the South Carolina primary, the first one in which Black voters had a clear voice. Local staff complained to reporters about resources allocated to the first three primaries, Iowa, New Hampshire and Nevada, in predominantly white states, with so few Black voters in Iowa and New Hampshire that exit polls couldn’t even record their preferences. The gamble may have been that the early victories would establish Sanders’ frontrunner status and establish his “electability,” but it turned out that it was South Carolina and the Black vote that was decisive. And then Sanders rushed to campaign in the west and northeast. Was this a tactical miscalculation, or does it reveal a more fundamental strategic failure?
Clearly, efforts were made. There was no rushing of his podium by Black Lives Matter activists, as there had been in 2015. He admitted his 2016 campaign was “too white,” and promised that this time it would be different. Black senior staff included campaign co-chair Nina Turner. The day after he kicked off his campaign speaking to a multiracial crowd in Brooklyn on March 2 last year, he was in Selma for the commemoration of “Bloody Sunday.” The day after that, he was on The Breakfast Club fielding questions from Charlamagne tha God.
How much meaning are we to draw from Sanders leaving South Carolina the day before the primary to go to Boston, the next day missing the commemoration of the 55th anniversary of Bloody Sunday, or skipping a rally in Jackson, Mississippi, organized by Mayor Chokwe Lumumba? Political Science Prof. Christina Greer wrote that Sanders may have had policies benefiting Blacks, but he didn’t “work to directly address these groups and work for the vote.” “Optics matter,” she writes in The Grio. “His absence in the state (and at Selma) was a signal to many that Bernie was attempting a path to the nomination by ignoring much of the backbone of the Democratic Party.”
His town hall in Flint, just before the Michigan primary, flew Black surrogates in to share the stage with him. But he decided to drop the speech he had worked on most of the day, written specifically to address Black voters. He left it to Cornel West and other Black surrogates to deliver its message, instead giving his thirty-minute stump speech.
It’s the “optics” again. Sanders speaking to an almost all-white crowd in mostly Black Flint, using Black surrogates “instead of speaking to black people on his own.” When Sanders asked Cornel West to explain why Biden had been winning Black votes, West blamed it on neoliberal Black leadership. But to The Root’s Terrell Jermaine Starr, this was blaming Black voters instead of Sanders own failings: “If you can’t convince black folks not to support the walking dead in favor or you, I’d be looking in the mirror. … My godmother isn’t backing Biden because she is in love with neoliberalism. She is doing so because the Democratic Socialist isn’t doing enough to prove he cares about her as much as he does the white working-class man in Iowa that he, interestingly enough, doesn’t have to ask his white friend to speak to about race.” Sanders, Starr writes, is comfortable talking to racist whites but not to Black people.
Unfair? You can find far worse in Black media, which may have been no less hostile to Sanders than corporate media in general. Still, it’s important to remember that Sanders has a significant base of support among people of color. Votes and polls show he has far more support among Latinx voters than Biden, and sizable percentages of Blacks outside of the South and among Blacks under 39. Polling also shows a sudden shift in Black opinion after the Democratic establishment coalesced around Biden in the few days before and after the South Carolina primary — Biden had been gifted the aura of electability, and exit polls showed how much that mattered to voters. We need also to remember that primaries bring out a small and unrepresentative segment of voters. Perhaps the turnout in the general election would have favored Sanders, but a strategy designed for the general election risks failure in the primaries.
Steadfast Democratic establishment
Could Sanders have won if the campaign had committed more resources in the South? His position was that the Democratic establishment was fixed in its opposition, and that included Southern Black political leaders like Jim Clyburn. In an insightful post-mortem from the left, Paul Heideman and Hadas Thier in Jacobin argue that Sanders’ strategy wasn’t the problem. Other analyses from the left agree that the campaign underestimated the Democratic establishment — so powerful that no change in strategy would have led to victory. This is apparently the view of Bernie Sanders, as well.









