There’s no official winner yet, but the Democratic primary for the special election in New Jersey’s 11th Congressional District already amounts to a political earthquake in the state.In an improbable twist that not long ago might have been altogether impossible, a progressive activist and organizer backed by Sen. Bernie Sanders, I-Vt., and Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, D-N.Y., leads the vote count. Analilia Mejia is slightly ahead of former Rep. Tom Malinowski, who represented the neighboring 7th District for two terms and relocated in an effort to relaunch his political career. Former Rep. Tom Malinowski.Spencer Platt / Getty ImagesYes, it’s hardly unheard of in this political moment for a left-wing insurgent like Mejia to score an upset in a Democratic contest. But what makes her potential victory so remarkable is where it may be happening, if she holds her lead in this too-close-to-call race.This is New Jersey, the state where Democratic machine politics have lived on well into the 21st century. Candidacies like Mejia’s — backed by none of the official Democratic county organizations in the district, instead relying on grassroots energy — have long been quixotic exercises.But the state’s Democratic Party has been thrown into upheaval by a series of events the past few years. A quick review of those cascading circumstances puts Mejia’s campaign in key context. And a campaign like this finding purchase in a place like this sends a broader message about what animates Democratic voters today.To understand how we got here, rewind to the indictment and ultimate corruption conviction of Sen. Robert Menendez, a product of the Hudson County machine who owed his seat to the kind of backroom deal-cutting that was de rigueur among Garden State politicos. Menendez’s 2023 indictment was, amazingly, his second brush with federal law enforcement — he survived a corruption trial courtesy of a hung jury five years earlier. Back then, in 2018, state Democratic leaders rallied around Menendez after his trial and muscled him to victory in a re-election race.But resentment simmered among grassroots Democrats. This was the dawn of the age of Trump, and the Democratic Party was awash in a new type of energy, with young voters and professional-class suburbanites suddenly animated by resistance politics. Menendez was not the kind of candidate they had signed up to support.The second Menendez indictment came just as he was gearing up to run again in 2024. It was clear right away that the party would not blindly embrace him this time and would look elsewhere — but to whom?For generations in New Jersey Democratic politics, this question would then have been answered by power brokers, especially the leaders of the biggest county Democratic parties. They commanded deep war chests, mighty turnout armies, a roster of loyal local officials and — crucially — “the line”: the very prominent, very official-looking spot on the primary ballot reserved for the candidate of the county party’s choosing. Candidates who did not receive the line would be sentenced to a remote corner of the ballot somewhere near the Central time zone. This is how it had always worked. Phil Murphy, the Democrat who was elected governor in 2017, had done it this way, locking down the crucial counties and blocking out his better-known opponents — essentially winning the primary a year before any actual votes were cast. Murphy was in his second term when Menendez was once again indicted, and he had a plan: His wife, Tammy Murphy, was interested in her own political career, and this was a chance for her to run. Murphy and his allies went to work putting all the usual puzzle pieces together to lock down the Senate nomination for her. But the plan was interrupted by then-Rep. Andy Kim, who had been elected in the blue wave midterm of 2018 — on the same ballot as Menendez, incidentally. Kim in his campaigns had tapped into that resistance base and recognized that these were not voters who were keen to sit back and let the county parties anoint Menendez’s replacement. So, without having lined up a single major organizational endorsement, he jumped in the race. Then, he went to court. Rather than try to earn “the line,” he decided he would try to get rid of it altogether. And he did. A federal judge ruled in March 2024 that the line violated “the integrity of the democratic process.” Within weeks, Tammy Murphy was out of the race, and the field was suddenly clear for Kim, who went on to easily win the Senate seat in the fall.Fueled by President Donald Trump’s return to office, the energy that powered Kim continues to course through the culture of New Jersey’s Democratic Party. The race that has unfolded in New Jersey’s 11th District is powerful proof. The district comprises three counties: Essex, Morris and Passaic. Essex has the most votes. Traditionally, it has had one of the strongest Democratic organizations in the state. In the new, post-line world of New Jersey politics, the county parties can still make endorsements, and Essex went with one of its own, county Board of Commissioners member Brendan Gill.Morris County, suburban and historically Republican, never had much of a Democratic machine, but it nonetheless gave its backing to Malinowski.Passaic, a much smaller chunk of the district, threw up its hands and backed two locals, county Board of Commissioners member John Bartlett and former Lt. Gov. Tahesha Way.None of the county parties backed Mejia. None seriously considered it. But here is Mejia, with the decisive votes in this primary still left to tally, somehow leading this race. And she owes that lead to, of all places, Essex County, where she’s running well ahead of Malinowski — and nearly doubling up Gill, the candidate of the Essex organization. This is not the sort of thing that used to happen in New Jersey politics. And yet it seems to be happening more and more — and not just in New Jersey, either.
