Biden’s Legacy: Far-Reaching Accomplishments That Didn’t Translate into Political Support

US President Joe Biden waves while boarding Air Force One at Joint Base Andrews in Maryland on November 1, 2022. (AFP)
US President Joe Biden waves while boarding Air Force One at Joint Base Andrews in Maryland on November 1, 2022. (AFP)
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Biden’s Legacy: Far-Reaching Accomplishments That Didn’t Translate into Political Support

US President Joe Biden waves while boarding Air Force One at Joint Base Andrews in Maryland on November 1, 2022. (AFP)
US President Joe Biden waves while boarding Air Force One at Joint Base Andrews in Maryland on November 1, 2022. (AFP)

Sitting in the Oval Office behind the iconic Resolute desk in 2022, an animated President Joe Biden described the challenge of leading a psychologically traumatized nation.

The United States had endured a life-altering pandemic. There was a jarring burst of inflation and now global conflict with Russia invading Ukraine, as well as the persistent threat to democracy he felt Donald Trump posed.

How could Biden possibly heal that collective trauma?

“Be confident,” he said emphatically in an interview with The Associated Press. “Be confident. Because I am confident.”

But in the ensuing two years, the confidence Biden hoped to instill steadily waned. And when the 81-year-old Democratic president showed his age in a disastrous debate in June against Trump, he lost the benefit of the doubt as well. That triggered a series of events that led him Sunday to step down as his party's nominee for the November's election.

Democrats, who had been united in their resolve to prevent another Trump term, suddenly fractured. And Republicans, beset by chaos in Congress and the former president’s criminal conviction, improbably coalesced in defiant unity.

Biden never figured out how to inspire the world’s most powerful country to believe in itself, let alone in him.

He lost the confidence of supporters in the 90-minute debate with Trump, even if pride initially prompted him to override the fears of lawmakers, party elders and donors who were nudging him to drop out. Then Trump survived an assassination attempt in Pennsylvania and, as if on cue, pumped his fist in strength. Biden, while campaigning in Las Vegas, tested positive for the coronavirus Wednesday and retreated to his Delaware beach home to recover.

The events over the course of three weeks led to an exit Biden never wanted, but one that Democrats felt they needed to maximize their chance of winning in November’s elections.

Biden seems to have badly misread the breadth of his support. While many Democrats had deep admiration for the president personally, they did not have the same affection for him politically.

Rice University historian Douglas Brinkley said Biden arrived as a reprieve from a nation exhausted by Trump and the pandemic, reported The Associated Press.

“He was a perfect person for that moment,” said Brinkley, noting Biden proved in era of polarization that bipartisan lawmaking was still possible.

Yet, there was never a “Joe Biden Democrat” like there was a “Reagan Republican.” He did not have adoring, movement-style followers as did Barack Obama or John F. Kennedy. He was not a generational candidate like Bill Clinton. The only barrier-breaking dimension to his election was the fact that he was the oldest person ever elected president.

His first run for the White House, in the 1988 cycle, ended with self-inflicted wounds stemming from plagiarism, and he didn’t make it to the first nominating contest. In 2008, he dropped out after the Iowa caucuses, where he won less than 1% of the vote.

In 2016, Obama counseled his vice president not to run. A Biden victory in 2020 seemed implausible, when he finished fourth in Iowa and fifth in New Hampshire before a dramatic rebound in South Carolina that propelled him to the nomination and the White House.

David Axelrod, a former senior adviser to Obama who also worked closely with Biden, said that history would treat Biden kinder than voters had, not just because of his legislative achievements but because in 2020 he defeated Trump.

“His legacy is significant beyond all his many accomplishments,” Axelrod said. “He will always be the man who stepped up and defeated a president who placed himself above our democracy."

But Biden could not avoid his age. And when he showed frailty in his steps and his speech, there was no foundation of supporters that could stand by him to stop calls for him to step aside.

It was a humbling end to a half-century career in politics, yet hardly reflective of the full legacy of his time in the White House.

In March of 2021, Biden launched $1.9 trillion in pandemic aid, creating a series of new programs that temporarily halved child poverty, halted evictions and contributed to the addition of 15.7 million jobs. But inflation began to rise shortly thereafter as Biden’s approval rating as measured by the AP-NORC Center for Public Affairs Research fell from 61% to 39% as of June.

He followed up with a series of executive actions to unsnarl global supply chains and a $1 trillion bipartisan infrastructure package that not only replaced aging infrastructure but improved internet access and prepared communities to withstand the damages from climate change.

In 2022, Biden and his fellow Democrats followed up with two measures that reinvigorated the future of US manufacturing.

The CHIPS and Science Act provided $52 billion to build factories and create institutions to make computer chips domestically, ensuring that the US would have access to the most advanced semiconductors needed to power economic growth and maintain national security. There was also the Inflation Reduction Act, which provided incentives to shift away from fossil fuels and enabled Medicare to negotiate drug prices.

Biden also sought to compete more aggressively with China, rebuild alliances such as NATO and completed the US withdrawal from Afghanistan that resulted in the death of 13 US service members.

Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in early 2022 worsened inflation as Trump and other Republicans questioned the value of military aid to the Ukrainians.

Hamas’ Oct. 7, 2023 attack in Israel sparked a war that showed divisions within the Democratic party about whether the United States should continue to support Israel as tens of thousands of Palestinians died in months of counterattacks. The president was also criticized over illegal border crossings at the southern border with Mexico.

Yet it was the size of the stakes and the fear of a Biden loss that prevailed, resulting in a bet by Democrats that the tasks he began could best be completed by a younger generation.

“History will be kinder to him than voters were at the end,” Axelrod said.



Toufic Sultan Recalls to Asharq Al-Awsat Mutual Hatred between Hafez al-Assad and Yasser Arafat

Arafat and Assad during a celebration of the Libyan Revolution in Tripoli in 1988. (AFP)
Arafat and Assad during a celebration of the Libyan Revolution in Tripoli in 1988. (AFP)
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Toufic Sultan Recalls to Asharq Al-Awsat Mutual Hatred between Hafez al-Assad and Yasser Arafat

Arafat and Assad during a celebration of the Libyan Revolution in Tripoli in 1988. (AFP)
Arafat and Assad during a celebration of the Libyan Revolution in Tripoli in 1988. (AFP)

Journalists sometimes hear shocking statements—ones they lock away in their memory, fearing their repercussions. Some are too violent, too damaging, or too costly to repeat. Others risk swift denial from those who made them.

That was the case in late January 1987, when Kuwait hosted the fifth Islamic Summit.

Among the leaders in attendance were Saudi Arabia’s King Fahd bin Abdulaziz, Syrian President Hafez al-Assad, Lebanese President Amin Gemayel, and Palestinian Liberation Organization (PLO) Chairman Yasser Arafat.

I had requested an interview with Arafat, and he agreed to meet. After an exchange of pleasantries, he delivered a series of startling remarks.

“What’s happening in Beirut?” he asked.

“You know the country is grappling with the aftermath of the war of the camps,” I replied.

“No, Ghassan,” he shot back. “This is not the ‘war of the camps.’ The real name is the ‘war on the camps.’ It was personally ordered by Hafez al-Assad. Regrettably, the Amal Movement, led by Nabih Berri, is carrying out the decision, aided—unfortunately—by the Lebanese Army’s Sixth Brigade.”

Arafat must have noticed my surprise at his bluntness, because he raised his voice in anger.

“Assad is trying to finish what Ariel Sharon started in the 1982 invasion but failed to achieve. This is a continuation of Sharon’s mission to eliminate the PLO,” he charged.

Veteran Lebanese politician Toufic Sultan speaks to Asharq Al-Awsat. (Asharq Al-Awsat)

Assad: A Souk Al-Hamidiya merchant

I pointed out that his accusations were grave, targeting Syria’s head of state. His frustration only grew.

“Assad is not Syria’s president,” Arafat fumed.

“He is a merchant from Souk al-Hamidiya. If only he focused on reclaiming the Golan instead of blocking Palestinian independence to please America and Israel. Mark my words: time will prove me right. Hafez al-Assad does not recognize Palestine, nor Lebanon. He loathes Iraq under the guise of hating Saddam Hussein.”

Stunned, I listened as he went on.

“What they call an ‘uprising’ within Fatah is a conspiracy orchestrated by Assad and funded by [Libyan leader Moammar] al-Gaddafi. Assad’s only dream is to turn the Palestinian cause into a bargaining chip and to dominate Lebanon.”

As Arafat’s anger subsided, our conversation shifted to other topics.

A few days ago, I met with veteran Lebanese politician Toufic Sultan—a man who carries the collective memory of two cities. Born in Tripoli, he has also witnessed Beirut’s political twists and turns, having been a close associate of Kamal Jumblatt and his son, Walid, as well as former Prime Minister Rafik al-Hariri and his son, Saad.

He maintained ties with Arafat and participated in meetings with Assad and other Arab leaders. His recollections are rich with pivotal moments, particularly from his time as deputy leader of the National Movement, a coalition of leftist and nationalist forces led by Kamal Jumblatt.

Rocky start: Assad and Arafat’s strained relationship

Arafat’s relationship with Damascus was troubled from the outset. After a bloody internal dispute within Fatah, he was briefly detained in Syria, where the defense minister at the time was Hafez al-Assad.

Following the violent clashes between Palestinian factions and the Jordanian army in 1970, Assad came to view the presence of armed Palestinian groups as a source of chaos. This belief shaped his stance toward Arafat and the Palestinian resistance movement for years to come.

Assad grew uneasy when Palestinian factions relocated to Beirut and forged a broad alliance with Lebanon’s leftist parties and nationalist forces. He closely monitored Arafat’s rise as the dominant player on the Lebanese scene.

Despite Syria’s attempts to control the Palestinian file, Damascus struggled to rein in Fatah’s overwhelming influence and Arafat’s growing stature. His power extended to Lebanon’s southern border with Israel, where he effectively held decision-making authority.

Speaking to Asharq Al-Awsat, Sultan recalled: “Hafez al-Assad never truly respected the idea of Palestinian resistance. I heard it from him directly and from those around him. His prevailing view was that there was no real resistance—just armed groups operating in coordination with intelligence agencies. The divide between Assad and Arafat was clear from the start.”

Sultan recounted an episode that underscored the deep divide between Assad and Arafat.

“One day, Assad told Arafat that Palestine did not exist—it was simply southern Syria. Arafat fired back, saying there was no such thing as Syria, only northern Palestine. There was an attempt to mask the exchange with humor, but the reality was that Assad genuinely viewed the issue through this lens,” Sultan said.

He explained that several Arab regimes sought to control the Palestinian cause, hoping to benefit from it without bearing its consequences.

“From the Baathist perspective, both in Baghdad and Damascus, there was a belief that the issue was too significant for the PLO to unilaterally determine its fate.”

Crackdown on Palestinian media

Sultan recalled a particularly tense moment in the PLO’s relationship with the Syrian regime.

“The organization operated a radio station in Syria. One day, it aired a segment quoting Arafat, including the phrase ‘There is water in my mouth’—a cryptic remark hinting at unspoken grievances. Syrian authorities responded swiftly, sending bulldozers to demolish the station and arresting several staff members.”

That night, Palestinian officials approached Sultan, urging him to speak with Kamal Jumblatt.

“Jumblatt suggested we arrange a meeting with Assad. It was Ramadan, so I contacted Hikmat al-Shihabi, then head of Syrian intelligence and our liaison,” recalled Sultan.

As the meeting neared sunset, Jumblatt sat across from Assad, with Sultan seated beside the Syrian president. The discussion quickly turned hostile toward Arafat.

“The conversation was filled with insults. Phrases like ‘We’ll bring him in’—implying they’d arrest him—and ‘We’ll flip him over’—a reference to how prisoners were beaten—were thrown around. Jumblatt, always polite and measured, stopped eating. Sensing his discomfort, Assad turned to me and asked me to intervene.”

Sultan responded: “Mr. President, the Palestinian fighters are not our schoolmates. We are committed to the Palestinian cause, and today, the PLO and Arafat represent that cause. These men have endured extreme hardships.”

Assad listened and then conceded: “Abu Rashid is right. Consider it settled, Kamal Bey.” The detainees were subsequently released.

A meeting between Kamal Jumblatt and Arafat attended by Toufic Sultan, George Hawi, Mohsen Ibrahim, and Yasser Abed Rabbo. (Courtesy of Toufic Sultan)

Deep-seated mutual hatred

Asked whether the animosity between Assad and Arafat was evident at the time, Sultan did not hesitate.

“Of course. It was well known,” he said. “One way to ingratiate oneself with Assad was to openly attack Arafat.”

He recalled a meeting with Walid Jumblatt, Assem Kanso—the head of Lebanon’s Baath Party—and Syrian Vice President Abdul Halim Khaddam.

“When Arafat’s name came up, Khaddam abruptly declared, ‘Yasser Arafat is an Israeli spy.’ I remained silent. He turned to me and asked for my opinion. I simply said, ‘I heard you.’”

Khaddam pressed further: “What do you think?”

Sultan replied: “I respect your opinion, and this is your office. But if you want my honest view, it won’t please you.”

The atmosphere surrounding Assad was particularly hostile toward Fatah. Syrian authorities used every means at their disposal to infiltrate the group.

After years of effort, they succeeded in orchestrating major defections, the most notable led by Abu Saleh, Abu Musa, and Abu Khaled al-Omleh. Damascus provided these factions with logistical support, training camps, and other resources.

“Syria had the power to shrink or amplify political movements,” remembered Sultan.

Despite knowing that geography gave Assad a strategic advantage, Arafat was not an easy adversary.

He countered Syria’s animosity with his trademark defiance—flashing the victory sign and invoking phrases like “the Palestinian bloodbath” and “the longest Arab-Israeli war.”

These references underscored the resilience of Palestinian fighters and their Lebanese allies during Israel’s 1982 siege of Beirut, led by then-Israeli Defense Minister Ariel Sharon.

At the time, many believed that Arafat’s relentless emphasis on “independent Palestinian decision-making” was aimed more at Assad than at any other party.

Damascus, in turn, saw Arafat as dismissive of the sacrifices made by the Syrian army during Israel’s invasion of Beirut.

Syrian officials also suspected that he was waiting for an opportunity to join peace negotiations with Israel—an option that had eluded him after he failed to follow in the footsteps of Egyptian President Anwar Sadat in the late 1970s.