California Democrats Pivot to Becerra Because the Other Candidates Are So Weak

In the chaotic scramble to replace term-limited Gov. Gavin Newsom in 2026, California Democrats are revealing once again how little they value competence or accountability. Newsom’s inner circle, left adrift after Rep. Eric Swalwell’s spectacular collapse amid rape and sexual harassment allegations, has turned its gaze to a familiar face from the Biden administration’s failures: former Health and Human Services Secretary Xavier Becerra.

Once polling in the low single digits, Becerra has surged to around 10 percent in recent surveys, buoyed by increased social media chatter and a quick pivot by consultants who had been all-in on Swalwell until the scandals forced a humiliating retreat.

This is not a story of fresh leadership or bold vision for a state drowning in homelessness, crime, and unaffordable housing. It is the predictable recycling of the same political machine that has turned California into a cautionary tale. Becerra, who served as California’s attorney general before joining Biden’s cabinet, now benefits from the vacuum left by Swalwell’s downfall.

Longtime Newsom allies—including figures like Courtni Pugh, Lindsey Cobia, and Jason Elliott—had thrown their weight behind Swalwell, alongside unions and independent expenditure groups led by Bearstar Strategies operatives Ace Smith, Sean Clegg, and Juan Rodriguez. When the accusations surfaced, those operatives executed a swift U-turn.

Now, agencies tied to Newsom’s orbit, such as LaMont Digital, are reportedly aligning with Becerra. Newsom himself maintains a studied neutrality, issuing bland statements about the “depth of talent” in the Democratic Party while privately expressing reservations about Becerra’s record.

Becerra’s sudden viability exposes the rot at the heart of California’s one-party dominance. As attorney general, he weaponized lawsuits against the first Trump administration more than a hundred times, prioritizing ideological warfare over practical governance. His stint leading HHS under Biden placed him at the center of a federal health bureaucracy that oversaw vaccine mandates, border chaos with public health implications, and policies that strained hospitals and eroded public trust. Californians who fled high taxes and failing services during those years have every reason to question whether rewarding such a resume will reverse the state’s decline. Yet the machine grinds on, elevating insiders who promise continuity rather than correction.

The irony is thick. Democrats who lecture endlessly about “protecting democracy” and “defending norms” now scramble to install a Biden-era retread after their preferred candidate imploded under the weight of serious personal allegations. Swalwell’s rapid fall—complete with lingering rumors that insiders like Becerra himself admitted had circulated for years—should have prompted soul-searching. Instead, it triggered a game of musical chairs among the same consultants and donors.

Newsom’s orbit, ever pragmatic, appears less interested in reforming the state than preserving influence. Becerra’s campaign attributes his polling bump to social media momentum, but the real driver is the absence of alternatives within a party allergic to genuine competition.

California’s challenges demand more than recycled résumés. Skyrocketing housing costs, visible decay in major cities, and businesses fleeing for red states are not abstract policy debates; they are the direct result of progressive governance that prioritizes symbolism over results. Becerra’s emphasis on “rebuilding the California Dream” rings hollow against that backdrop. Voters have watched as promises of compassion produced tent cities, as aggressive environmental rules coexisted with blackouts and high energy costs, and as legal activism substituted for effective law enforcement.

This episode also raises pointed questions about media and institutional complicity. Rumors about Swalwell had apparently circulated in Democratic circles long before formal accusations forced his exit, yet the party machinery pressed forward until the scandal became impossible to ignore. The same networks that amplified every Trump-era controversy now pivot seamlessly to the next establishment choice. Californians deserve transparency, not another chapter in the saga of insider protection.

Newsom’s careful distance from the fray—coupled with his own ambitions for higher office—only underscores the cynicism. His statement praising the “diverse group of leaders” committed to “California’s progress” reads like boilerplate designed to offend no one in the machine while signaling nothing substantive. Progress, in this context, too often means doubling down on the policies that have made the state a magnet for problems rather than solutions.

As the 2026 race unfolds, the emergence of Becerra as a dark-horse contender illustrates a deeper truth about entrenched power. When one flawed candidate falls, the apparatus does not open the field to reformers or outsiders; it elevates another veteran of the same battles. Californians weary of decline have an opportunity to demand better, but the early signals from Sacramento suggest the machine intends to stay in control.

Yet Scripture reminds us that no earthly kingdom escapes judgment for its stewardship. As the prophet Isaiah declared, “Woe unto them that decree unrighteous decrees, and that write grievousness which they have prescribed” (Isaiah 10:1). California’s leaders would do well to heed the warning against perpetuating systems that burden the people rather than serve them. True renewal requires repentance from failed ideologies, not another shuffle of familiar faces.