Democracy’s Bulldog: Jamie Raskin and the Battle for 2028

Published on 13 May 2025 at 20:25

As Democrats brace for a constitutional showdown in 2028, with a continuation of the Trumpian movement attacking norms of law and democracy, one figure shines out as a dogged fighter and eloquent voice for liberal values: Representative Jamie Raskin. Raskin has spent decades defending the rule of law as a Harvard-trained lawyer and long-time law professor. In recent years, he has emerged as a frontline warrior against the “sweeping MAGA attack on our Constitution.” He is precisely the moral and practical leader the party needs. His rise from state senator in Maryland to a member of Congress and lead impeachment manager reflects a unique blend of intellectual heft and political grit. Raskin likes to say that his constituency is not power or partisan advantage but “the small‑d democracy now imperiled by the Trump administration’s systematic assault.” In other words, he fights for democracy as his mission. That makes him an ideal president or vice president candidate as Democrats seek a unifying standard‑bearer for 2028.

 

Raskin’s credentials are impeccable. A co‑editor of the Harvard Law Review and faculty member for 25 years at American University’s Washington College of Law, he has taught constitutional law, the First Amendment, and the legislative process to generations of lawyers. He is the bestselling author of books like Overruling Democracy and We the Students (on the Supreme Court and Civic Education). And when the stakes were highest, his colleagues turned to him. In early 2021, the Democratic caucus appointed Raskin as lead impeachment manager in Trump’s second trial. In 2025, he was named co‑chair of the party’s rapid‑response and litigation task force to counteract an all‑out Trump administration assault on federal agencies and statutes. In short, Raskin is one of the two top legal minds and strategists in the Democratic House ranks, a former state senate majority whip with a track record of coalition‑building, a congressman who helped write landmark democracy‑reform legislation, and a teacher of law whose own life’s work has been the U.S. Constitution.

 

Through every one of these roles, Raskin has shown himself to be a relentless “bulldog” against authoritarianism. He has organized Democrats’ response to every Trump/Electoral College skirmish and rule‑of‑law crisis. As a top Judiciary Committee Democrat, he’s guided hundreds of lawsuits and injunctions to slow or block extreme policies, proudly announcing that “we’ve won 14 temporary restraining orders or preliminary injunctions…We are winning in court, and the rule of law will stand.” Colleagues practically herald his name at caucus town halls and strategizing sessions as if he were a talisman. Michigan Rep. Debbie Dingell reports that when constituents worry about a new constitutional crisis, she responds: “I use Jamie Raskin’s name…that evoked confidence from the crowd,” knowing “we have one of the best constitutional lawyers in the country” on the case. Virginia Rep. Don Beyer agrees, calling Raskin “a great focus point” for anxious voters. Democratic caucus leaders have said it plainly: Rep. Pete Aguilar said, “I always sleep better at night knowing that Jamie Raskin is here helping us out” in these fights. Those are not faint praises. They capture how Raskin’s presence reassures liberals that someone understands the law on their side. It’s hard to imagine another Dem figure (short of the president) who inspires such cross‑faction faith.

 

Raskin’s political style mixes forceful rhetoric with measured strategy. He has often spoken for the party about why these fights matter. Witness his closing argument in Trump’s 2021 impeachment trial, which thousands of viewers found compelling and moving. He told the Senate flatly: “The country and the world know who Donald Trump is. This trial is about who we are.” Now repeated by conservatives as a meme, that line underscores how Raskin frames the American identity and law struggle. The Guardian noted that his “impassioned and meticulous rhetoric” at that moment married his training as a constitutional law professor with the urgency of the moment. Following a personal family tragedy, Raskin returned to the Capitol a few days earlier to witness its siege. His speech there, delivered with the grief of a father who had just lost his son but brimming with resolve, was shared by millions online. He insisted the insurrection must be met with the full force of Congress acting “to defend our Constitution every step along the way.” He still repeats that pledge today: in any statement about MAGA threats, he stresses that “we have weathered various constitutional crises before, and we are going to defend [the Constitution] every step along the way.” It is a clear message that Democrats desperately need to hear and convey.

 

This is not just talk. Raskin’s policy record shows he walks the walk. He has authored or championed progressive legislation in health, voting rights, civil liberties, and climate, and he often scores ahead of party leaders in Washington. In Maryland’s legislature, he built coalitions to pass landmark reforms: he spearheaded the repeal of the death penalty. He legalized same‑sex marriage, and he introduced the first‑in‑the‑nation laws on benefit corporations and interstate popular vote for president. In Congress, he led democracy‑defense bills and climate action. He reintroduced the broad Protecting Our Democracy Act, a package of measures to tighten ethics and prevent abuse of power. He has stacked up impressive amendments in sweeping reform bills (even adding his “Shareholders United” proposal to the so‑called For the People Act). He co-sponsored the Congressional Medicare for All Act in 2023, aligning with progressives on health care. He was an early co‑sponsor of major Green New Deal initiatives. (He even worked in Congress to block any pandemic relief from padding fossil‑fuel profits.) On civil rights and voting rights, Raskin helped write bills to expand mail‑in and early voting, toughen campaign finance, protect minority representation, and secure the census; he also chairs the House Oversight Subcommittee on Civil Rights and Civil Liberties. On climate, Raskin famously said, “We’ve got to save the democracy to save the climate and save our species,” reflecting his belief that the environmental agenda must go hand in hand with restoring good governance. It’s hard to list all his contributions without writing a manifesto. Still, the sum is clear: he has a substantive record in nearly every central progressive policy area, from the economy and health care to reproductive freedom and environmental justice.

 

What sets Raskin apart is how he combines this policy zeal with the credibility of a principled statesman. He is progressive; yes, the Congressional Progressive Caucus PAC backed him in 2016, and Bernie Sanders’ movement helped win his first race, but Raskin does not write off the center. His motto (echoing Abraham Lincoln) is that his ambition “is not to be in the political center, [but] in the moral center.” That outsider authenticity plays well with primary voters, but it has also allowed him to earn the trust of moderates. Swing‑state senators and House Democrats across the ideological spectrum turn to Raskin for counsel on articulating the fight against Trumpism. Indeed, when faced with an onslaught of draconian policies, Raskin has been asked by Democratic leaders to help set the narrative. One day after a MAGA‑driven federal action, he advised colleagues to use the term “sweeping MAGA attack on our Constitution” instead of a bland “constitutional crisis” so Americans would feel the urgency. This kind of savvy thinking not just of the law but of how to communicate it makes him both a progressive purist and an effective coalition‑builder.

 

We can see why Raskin’s appeal spans party factions. He champions issues dear to the liberal base, from a single‑payer health system to voting rights to aggressive climate action, while wearing his progressive bona fides lightly in favor of legal arguments that resonate broadly. For example, his decades of work on voting rights and election security make him a hero to minority communities and civic rights activists. However, when he speaks in plain terms about defending constitutional democracy, independents and worried Republicans listen too. Asked how to respond if Trump defies court order, he explained calmly in Axios: “Civil contempt and criminal contempt are there, and…legislative responses too…We are not without a full range of potential responses.” Notably, he framed it as work to “defend the Constitution every step along the way,” a message that speaks to moderates tired of chaos and progressive activists who want firmness. “I’ve devoted my career to the Constitution,” Raskin told Axios, “and I think it is reassuring to people to hear that we’ve been through crises before, and we’ve weathered them.” That faith, that America can again overcome autocratic surges, underlies Raskin’s appeal to voters beyond the left flank.

 

By contrast, many other names bandied about for 2028 have obvious limits. Politico notes that California’s Gavin Newsom is a charismatic foil, “burnishing a reputation…for punchy, data‑laden responses to tough charges against the Biden record.” But Newsom’s stock is tied to a showy, partisan brand (and he’s already gotten into trouble with flippant remarks about colleagues like Vice President Harris). In contrast, Raskins puts substance before the show and has a great working relationship with other House Democrats. Pairing the two together might make a good match. Michigan’s Gretchen Whitmer has an outstanding resume of policy wins; in 2023, she moved Michigan “farther and faster” toward progressive laws than any other governor. Yet Whitmer’s strength is state‑level achievement and negotiation comfort, not national courtroom oratory. Again, she is someone who would greatly benefit from being beside Raskins. Pete Buttigieg has gained admirers for technocratic successes at Transportation, but he lacks Raskin’s background in law, and his appeal is strongest in moderate circles. In this field, Raskin brings something unique: he is at once as passionately liberal as any 2028 hopeful and as constitutionally grounded as any leading moderate. He could play political wingman or leader for any of them, giving, say, Newsom or Whitmer a partner who can deliver the legal arguments and moral ethos that they do not.

 

Importantly, Raskin has shown he can unify Democrats rather than exacerbate divisions. He was one of the first members of Congress endorsed by the Congressional Progressive Caucus PAC in 2016, and he won that primary with Bernie‑aligned support. Yet in Annapolis, he built broad coalitions to enact bipartisan reforms, such as abolishing the death penalty and enshrining popular vote compacts. His reputation is not that of a litmus‑test ideologue but of a pragmatist for democracy. Colleagues like Raskin’s former Judiciary ally Jared Huffman praise him as his cofounder of their new Congressional Freethought Caucus, dedicated to science‑based policy and church/state separation. And on matters of constitutional rights, virtually every Democrat (not to mention a handful of Republicans) recognizes Raskin as a leading authority. We saw that after Trump’s election, when Raskin objected to certification of the vote, earning respect from election law experts, and we’ve seen it in 2025 as he marshals colleagues to safeguard voting and rule‑of‑law for 2026 and beyond.

 

Another sign of Raskin’s breadth is his partnership with different leaders.  

 

He has worked closely with mainstream figures like Hakeem Jeffries and Pete Aguilar, even as he trains the progressive fire of the Congressional Progressive Caucus on the ideological right. In the House leadership, he serves as Ranking Member of Oversight and Judiciary, posts that demand winning moderate, bipartisan consensus on challenging issues. Republicans who supported aspects of the Freedom to Vote Act or anti‑corruption bills often talked privately with Raskin because they knew he was profound and pragmatic. Meanwhile, the progressive base admires Raskin’s courage and consistency. For environmentalists, he embodies the link between clean energy and democracy: “No other crisis, even climate change, can be solved without first protecting the fabric of American democracy,” he told The Guardian, linking the fight against Trumpism directly to the battle for our planet’s future. This kind of holistic vision is rare; justice, environmentalism, and constitutionalism are inseparable. It means Raskin can stand on a debate stage and speak eloquently to a broad audience.

 

It’s worth noting that Raskin also fits the expectations for a vice‑presidential or presidential partner. He is bilingual in the language of policy wonks and working people. With equal conviction, Raskins could visit battleground states, speaking of civil rights and saying legalese at the Justice Department headquarters. He has experience in all the primary media stages and the bully pulpit of Congress, yet he has the demeanor of a professor as often as a TV personality. A recent poll of Democratic activists and strategists (if one existed) would likely find his combination of intellect, empathy, and tenacity highly rated. When the Democrats won the House in 2018 with a new crop of younger candidates, Raskin was among the first to chart the strategy of persistence he’d followed since 2016: block every authoritarian move at the moment, rebuild the House by 2026, and work internationally to shore up democracies around the world. That is a plan any 2028 ticket will need. And it is the plan Raskin has been articulating publicly.

 

Contrast Raskin’s profile with the mood of the moment. The midterm electorate has shown deep concern about inflation, healthcare costs, and pocketbook issues. But after that, they starved for leadership on values and democracy. Yet in Washington, the conversation often feels leaderless until Raskin steps up. He listens as well as he speaks; he makes legal arguments without alienating the ordinary voter. He never caves to cynicism or confuses issue priorities. Raskin holds out hope for a base impatient for both results and resistance. For independents anxious about whether America still has the rule of law, Raskin offers competence. His approval ratings in his district are sky‑high (he’s consistently won reelection by large margins in Maryland’s reliably blue 8th District). Still, more telling is the trust his name inspires nationally. One lawmaker told Axios that organizing to oppose Trump’s violations “is going to be something our caucus and Jeffries will weigh,” for the public, naming Raskin is akin to assuring that legal expertise and moral clarity are at work. There are few other Democrats with that combination.

 

Indeed, Raskin is not as famous as a national TV figure like Newsom or Buttigieg, but perhaps that is a strength. In contrast to a flash, Raskin is a solid substance: when he takes a stand, it’s based on research and principle. Newsom can bludgeon an opponent with data, and Whitmer can run a state assembly, but Raskin stands ready to answer the question that Trump will pose: “Who will protect America’s democracy and courts?” The answer could be, “Raskin will.” If Democrats want a moral champion who can also manage a legal war against future abuses, Raskin should not be overlooked. His story, a son of progressive activists, professor of law, author, and grieving father turned unflinching public servant, mirrors a narrative the party can sell: that ordinary citizens must become extraordinary guardians of our system. As Raskin warns, “Democratic governments and…movements of the world have got to confront this reality. Nobody else is going to do it.” In 2028, when the choice between democracy and autocracy is again on the ballot, Raskin is the kind of fighter who should be on the ticket, partner or leader, to help carry that struggle for all Americans.

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