Left Unsaid

Abigail Spanberger's refusal to disavow Jay Jones shows leftist violence is going mainstream

Televised presidential debates have produced some of the defining moments in recent American political history—or at the very least, some of the most memorable.

The first ever presidential debate, broadcast in 1960, pitted Democrat Senator John F. Kennedy against Vice President Richard Nixon. It was as much a battle of looks as a battle of ideas. A reminder that political choice is more deeply rooted in instinctual responses and stereotypes—Does this man look and act like the President?—than rational calculation and persuasion.

While Nixon was pale and clammy—he was recovering from an illness—had a stubble-covered face and refused to wear makeup, Kennedy was boyishly handsome, clean-cut and immaculately turned out, the Ivy League ideal.

In polling after the debate, television viewers gave the victory to Kennedy, while radio listeners, who saw none of this, called it the other way.

You might say the Kennedy-Nixon debate was the true beginning of the modern era of image-based politics.

Fast forward to 1984. The Reagan-Mondale debate saw Reagan on vintage form, providing an object lesson in how to use humour to defuse a potentially fatal issue. The President’s age—73—and mental competence had been hanging over his re-election campaign from the start, but instead of being defensive, Reagan went on the offensive—a charm offensive.

“I want you to know that, also, I will not make age an issue of this campaign,” he said.

“I am not going to exploit, for political purposes, my opponent’s youth and inexperience.”

And that was it. The press never asked about Reagan’s age again—and, of course, he won.

The 2016 debates, between Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump, also saw the race settled with a quip. In the second of three debates, Clinton mused on her opponent’s propensity for bending the truth, finishing her thoughts by saying, “It’s just awfully good that someone with the temperament of Donald Trump is not in charge of the law in our country.”

The Secretary of State had barely begun to lower her microphone before Trump shot back: “Because you’d be in jail.”

The audience erupted in hoots and hollers. Anderson Cooper urged them to control themselves, but the warning was as much for his own benefit as theirs: Even he was struggling not to laugh.

With hindsight it’s clear: That was the moment it was over for Madam President.

And then, of course, there was last year’s shocking debate, when the wheels finally came off Joe Biden’s sham shadow presidency. His cognitive decline could no longer be hidden, nor the existence of a “Biden oligarchy” ruling in his stead. He was gone within weeks, replaced by his Vice President, Kamala Harris.

State governors’ debates, by contrast, have little to recommend them in the way of glitz and glamour, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be consequential. On Thursday night, in the Virginia governor’s debate, we saw a moment of real consequence, not just for Virginia, but the nation as a whole.

Democrat candidate Abigail Spanberger refused multiple times, painfully—shamefully—to disavow Jay Jones, a fellow politician who fantasized about murdering a Republican opponent and his children.

Jones, who is currently running for attorney general in Virginia, has faced intense scrutiny and calls to withdraw from the race after text messages surfaced in which he said a former speaker of the Virginia House deserved “two bullets” in the head—one more than either Hitler or Pol Pot deserved. Even more shockingly, Jones suggested the speaker’s children should be murdered too, as a way to make his wife rethink her immoral political positions.

The messages were brought up repeatedly during Thursday’s debate by Spanberger’s opponent, Republican Lt Governor Winsome Earle-Sears.

“Abigail, when are you gonna take Jay Jones and say to him, ‘You must leave the race?’” Earle-Sears asked.

“He has said he wants to murder his political opponent, and not only that—his opponent’s children.”

Spanberger remained tight-lipped, impassive. If she was uncomfortable, she really didn’t look it.

“My opponent needs to answer about Jay Jones,” Earle-Sears demanded.

Spanberger was pressed by the moderator about when she learned of the text messages, which date to August 2022, and whether she still endorsed Jones’s candidacy.

Spanberger said the comments were “absolutely abhorrent,” but failed to answer the question, prompting a rebuke from the moderator.

“I didn’t hear an answer there on the endorsement issue,” the moderator said.

“So, I want to just make sure. Will you continue to endorse Jay Jones to be the next attorney general of Virginia? And were you aware of these text messages before they released?”

Spanberger continued to refuse to say whether she still endorsed Jones, instead saying that it was “up to every voter to make their own individual decision.”

Later in the debate, President Trump’s remarks at Charlie Kirk’s funeral were brought up, and Earle-Sears again turned to Spanberger and demanded she call for Jones to drop out.

“Jay Jones advocated the murder, Abigail, the murder of a man, a former speaker, as well as his children who were two and five years old.

“You have little girls. What would it take? Him pulling the trigger? Is that what would do it? And then you would say he needs to get out of the race?”

Spanberger once again refused to answer, looking straight ahead and away from her opponent.

There was just the suggestion of a smirk on her face.

“Abigail? You have nothing to say, Abigail? What if he said it about your three children? Is that when you would say he should get out of the race? Abigail, you’re running to be governor,” Earle-Sears continued.

“Have some political courage. What you have done is you are taking political calculations about your future as governor.

“Well, as governor, you have to make hard choices. And that means telling Jay Jones to leave the race.”