What happens when party leaders step aside?

International case studies to inform our current political misfortune

Imagine President Biden acquiesces to the wishes of his fellow elected Democrats, millions of hand-wringing voters, the illustrious George Clooney, and decides to step aside.

Where do Democrats’ political fortunes stand then?

In short, the abyss. While polling shows that this scenario is likely preferential to our current one, it is still a rather perilous — and unprecedented — moment in American politics. We simply do not know how voters will react to the party changing its nominee in the run-up to the general election.¹

The same cannot be said for some of our peer countries.

In places like Australia, the UK, and Sweden, replacing an unpopular leader is not an uncommon practice. These nations have parliamentary systems in which political parties, rather than individual leaders, are the primary locus of political support. Consequently, they have a somewhat easier time replacing a leader for the sake of the party.

In these comparative examples, it’s worth asking: Did changing leaders turn the party’s political circumstance around? Did the party experience a boost in the polls, only to see their support come crashing down on election day? Did it sink their poor election prospects deeper into mud?

International political comparisons like this are inherently tricky. Other countries obviously have different forms of government, ideological voting blocs, and political traditions. Some of these elections were called by the new leader after they assumed power and were not held on a mandated date, which is impossible here in the US. So the answers to these questions should not be taken as hard political lessons, but rather stories that can inform the Democrats’ incredibly consequential political situation.

Short-lived polling boosts

In 2010, three years after leading the Labor Party to a landslide victory, Australian Prime Minister Kevin Rudd’s poor policymaking had alienated voters, and his erratic leadership style had sewn discord in the party ranks. With his poll numbers plummeting 12 points in three months, the Labor Party pretty quickly reached a consensus that they needed a new leader or face a reckoning at the ballot box.

Deputy Prime Minister Julia Gillard was the clear choice. She polled a few points better than Rudd against the conservative opposition, largely due to her support among women and non-Labor voters, and her fellow Labor Party members preferred her leadership style. So Rudd was deposed the party and replaced by Gillard. In her first speech, she vowed to get “a good government back on track.”

The change in leadership worked momentarily. Gillard’s fresh face and historic role as the country’s first female Prime Minister resulted in Labor’s polling increasing by several points. Gillard seized on this support and called for an election to happen in the following month.

This proved to be a political mistake. The approval rating somewhat waned, and by Election Day, it was only marginally higher than what Kevin Rudd’s had been at his resignation. Ultimately, the Labor Party lost 11 seats, and Gillard remained Prime Minister with a minority coalition government and an exceedingly limited governing mandate. Would Rudd’s government have fared worse? The answer to that question is still debated in Australian politics. His polls were in free-fall and Gillard did rebuild public support amidst a breakdown in party credibility, at least temporarily. However, the Labor Party was plagued by unpopular policies and a general sense of chaos. Nevertheless, while they lost seats, they didn’t lose the premiership.

Sweden’s Social Democratic Party was less fortunate. In August 2021, the party leader, Prime Minister Stefan Löfven, retired after seven years of leadership. The Harry Houdini of European politics had barely survived a tumultuous summer, and his fractured left-wing coalition government was paralyzed. It was clear the Social Democrats needed a new leader to assume the premiership.

Finance Minister Magdalena Andersson was announced as the sole candidate a few months later. And after overcoming a successful no-confidence vote during the first day of her leadership, Andersson was again elected the first female Prime Minister of Sweden on November 29, 2021. Just like Australia’s Julia Gillard, the polls rewarded the historic nature of her ascension; the public approval for Social Democrats (the highest line on the graph below) climbed by around 8 points over the following months.

However, Andersson’s government struggled to handle issues around high energy prices and gang-related violence. When voters went to the polls the following year, the Social Democrats gained 8 seats, but Andersson’s left-wing coalition lost its majority, and Andersson, in turn, lost her premiership.

Neither example is a perfect analogy for the 2024 Democratic Party. However, one of the key lessons is that a new and historic leader can lead to a polling boost, but it has the potential to fade by election day. In Australia, this was largely because the leadership switch was chaotic and the new leader was still strongly associated with the poor leadership of the previous administration. In Sweden, the polling boost likely helped the Social Democrats gain seats, but it diminished slightly by election day and its left-wing coalition government struggled with key issues that the public believed could be better handled by conservatives.

A notable success, and an inevitable failure

Let’s move across the political spectrum for a more successful case study. It’s easy to forget, but back in June 2019, Boris Johnson was a bit of a political juggernaut in Great Britain. After Theresa May resigned following her failure to deliver a deal to leave the European Union, Johnson won a resounding victory in the Conservative Party leadership election. This was largely because of his bold and boisterous promise to “deliver on Brexit.”

Voters responded. Election polls that regularly had the Conservative Party securing 25 percent of the vote under Theresa May soon jumped into the 30s, and Johnson seized on the opportunity to call a snap election. Unlike in Australia, this proved to be politically advantageous decision. Polls continued to climb in the following weeks, and Conservatives ultimately secured nearly 46 percent of the vote and 47 more seats in Parliament.

Some derided conservatives for electing a political novelty act to the head of their party, but voters rewarded them for replacing an unpopular leader with someone who at least promised to boldly deliver on the existential question of Brexit. The opposing Labour Party didn’t do anything to help their cause, as their leader, Jeremy Corbyn, pushed the party outside the mainstream of UK politics and failed to deliver a strong message on how he would get the country out of the European Union.

Eight years earlier, the Spanish Socialist Workers Party also led a country in turmoil, but handled the situation somewhat less deftly. Prime Minister José Zapatero announced that he would not be running in the upcoming election in November 2011, giving his party seven months to pick a new leader and reset their political reputation after the country had soured on their eight years of governance.

Deputy Prime Minister Alfredo Rubalcaba failed to do that. Unlike any of our previous case studies, Rubalcaba’s ascension to the premiership did not lead to a meaningful boost in the polls, and he eventually led his party to the worst defeat out of any sitting Spanish government in the last 30 years.

Again, the result wasn’t entirely his fault. While the “good orator and wily political operator” attempted to convince voters that the center-right opposition would impose massive spending cuts and privatization, his association with the current leadership’s poor economic management undercut his message. Compounding problems, the 2008 financial crisis had mired Spain in high unemployment and massive public debt. Rubalcaba’s fate was sealed long before he led his party into the election.

What can Democrats learn?

If these four examples can offer any singular lesson, I think it’s this: It is incredibly hard to take over a fledging political party and lead it to electoral victory. Parties do not generally change leaders when the political wind is blowing their way; it’s usually an act in political desperation, a last minute heave to see if a fresh face will meaningfully change voter perceptions.

While the circumstances are quite different, this worked to a degree in Australia, Sweden, and the UK. The ruling party did see a meaningful boost in polling. And while it’s not entirely clear if there was any correlation, it’s notable that two of those examples happened with first-ever female prime ministers.

Again, these are essentially anecdotes so it’s hard to draw any concrete lesson, but the polling boosts were real, and if they failed to result in victory, it was largely because the parties themselves were not popular enough to hold together a majority coalition.

And I think it’s worth noting that the 2024 Democratic Party is not exactly unpopular.

Despite Biden’s polling deficit, Democrats run about even with Republicans on the generic ballot. And unlike other countries, Democrats don’t have to compete with multiple other parties that will meaningfully siphon off their support.² It’s often a long shot, but switching leaders does not guarantee disaster, especially if the party still retains legitimate popularity among the broader electorate. It certainly seems like a risk worth taking if we want to deny Donald Trump the presidency.

1. Obviously, the most cited analogous situation is LBJ resigning. But of course, he made his announcement over 200 days before election day, and Democrats were able to have an actual primary to replace him. The 1968 open convention will be an interesting case study if 2024 ever gets that far.

2. RFK Jr is a meaningful, but unknown quantity here.