Robert F. Kennedy Jr. sipped coffee inside the historic New Hampshire State House as he chit-chats with a gaggle of the state’s political leaders about the travails of being dad to seven children. Kennedy described his shock upon finding credit card receipts that indicated Conor—his 21-year old son—had recently embarked on a secret military mission. Without a word, Conor (who once dated Taylor Swift) skipped his law firm internship and volunteered to join the International Legion of foreign fighters on the frontlines, alongside Ukrainian special forces. With flashing blue eyes, gleaming white teeth and a skinny 60’s style tie (decorated with tiny octopus) Kennedy described the drama with the deadpan calm of his romantic partner, Curb Your Enthusiasm actress Cheryl Hines.
His audience is rapt as he unravels the tale with cadence, despite a voice ailment called spasmodic dysphonia that sounds like his phrases are crashing and stalling in his throat. “For three months we had no idea where he was, he is back now, studying for the bar…and he has a Ukrainian passport,” said Kennedy with an air of lightness that feels like nonchalance but is more likely the resoluteness of a life path forged by intense violence. The 1963 assassination of his uncle President John F. Kennedy and subsequent assassinaton of his father Senator Robert F. Kennedy in 1968 all happened before Bobby Jr. turned 15.
To understand the reality of being Robert F. Kennedy Jr. for the past 69 years is to become immersed in this American tragedy. The murders and accidental deaths in the Kennedy clan number more than a dozen, including one of his closest cousins, John F. Kennedy Jr, the son of JFK, who died when the plane he piloted crashed into the Atlantic. Kennedy’s childhood is captured in a single photo. It’s a black and white frame of him as a boy, helping hoist his father’s casket. A boy soon to be thrown out of Eton-like academies and nicknamed “Yoda” by friends at Harvard because he had ingested so much LSD and was considered wise beyond his years.
His resume is hardly that of a politician. Kennedy shows none of Donald Trump’s ambition, nor the coalition-building of Joe Biden nor the Ron DeSantis-like fastidiousness with curating a perfect CV. This is the life of a boy whose elite bubble was shattered and who has lived equal parts bathed in glory and gore.
Skeptics categorize him as a spoiler candidate and fear ulterior motives, such as Kennedy eventually running as an independent and sabotaging Joe Biden’s reelection. He is often introduced with a host of labels including anti-vaxxer, conspiracy theorist, and anti-semite. But a recent three day reporting trip through New Hampshire and Vermont with the candidate showed the gulf between Twitter fueled controversies and the campaign on the ground where Kennedy seems immune from the clouds of controversy as he hustles from event to event showcasing his storytelling, his oratorical flourish, and a keen sense of dramatic prose—hallmarks of his family’s dynasty. And while pundits inside the beltway describe Kennedy as completely out of touch with reality, he is barnstorming with a claim to be the one candidate who can “heal the divide” in the ever more atomized political climate.
For millions of voters, it’s working.
To cover the early stages of the 2024 U.S. presidential election and not acknowledge the post-COVID cracks in the nation’s psyche is to misjudge the American electorate’s mood. Evidence of mental and physical implosion are everywhere. Gas stations in New Hampshire are now equipped with public service announcements so that when drivers grab the nozzle to fill up their tank, a recorded message is activated to remind them that drug overdoses are a health issue, not a criminal act. “You will not be prosecuted” the looped message implores. As fentanyl and other synthetic drugs kill more than 2,000 Americans every week, radio announcements remind drug abusing mothers “your children will not be taken away” just because one—or both—parents are drug addicts. Small town Vermont newspapers run obituary after obituary for the middle-aged men using their hunting rifles to cut short their lives.
Kennedy sees himself as a historic figure, coming to save this fractured nation. His detractors are many, including family members who cite his stand against certain vaccines, or his claim that antidepressants including Prozac may be a factor in school shootings, or that cell phone use increases the preponderance of brain cancer. “I love my brother Bobby, but I do not share or endorse his opinions on many issues, including the COVID pandemic, vaccinations, and the role of social media platforms in policing false information,” said Kerry Kennedy, a human rights activist and stalwart member of the Democratic Party who was previously married to Andrew Cuomo. But Kennedy shrugs off these controversies as his appeal to millions of Americans is precisely aligned with the surreal post-COVID reality in which the United States is immersed.
While dozens of pundits and much of the liberal press in the United States dismiss Bobby Kennedy, Jr. as one of the nation’s leading “conspiracy theorists,” is there even a shred of evidence this will actually hurt him in the 2024 presidential campaign? And why won’t the U.S. government declassify thousands of pages of sixty-year-old secret CIA files on the JFK assassination? And is it believable that U.S. intelligence really can’t figure out where or how the COVID-19 virus emerged? Aren’t these controversies catnip in the age of Instagram?
Since his April 19 announcement in his hometown of Boston, Kennedy has barnstormed not only the key state of New Hampshire (traditionally the launch pad for U.S. presidential primaries) but bombarded the airwaves as he holds forth on podcasts including Twitter Spaces with Elon Musk, The Joe Rogan Experience and on the platform Rumble with journalist Glenn Greenwald. In June, ex-Fox News host Tucker Carlson dedicated an 18-minute Twitter segment to praising RFK Jr. that earned approximately 24 million views in the first day.
Judging by the enthusiasm of the crowds flocking to Kennedy campaign events, and recent polling, it’s clear that he has tapped into a wellspring of support. Is this a reunion of old school 60’s style Democrats? A coalition of disgruntled Trumpsters? How is Kennedy also popular with independents? If nothing else, his rapid rise in popularity suggests the desire for a political movement (like the recently launched No Labels movement) that transcends the Red-State vs. Blue-State polarization that characterizes modern U.S. presidential campaigns. In a political climate where former President Donald Trump surges among the Republican base with every indictment, is there any wonder that the Democratic race is equally unpredictable?
“Something happened with COVID. If Bobby Kennedy, Jr. had tried to run for president eight years ago, he would have been laughed off the stage,” said Steve Ivanovski, a pharmacist from Massachusetts who drove to New Hampshire to show his support for Kennedy’s fledgling candidacy. “People wouldn’t have even given him a chance because of the anti vax stuff. But because of the distrust that was sowed into the American public because of the COVID lockdowns, he has a chance. That is 100% a main driver [of his campaign].”
Hundreds of curious voters wait patiently in line to hear Kennedy deliver his first foreign policy speech of the 2024 cycle. The enthusiastic crowd snakes through the trimmed lawns and forested campus of St. Anselm College in New Hampshire—some will be shunted off to overflow rooms even after driving hours from New York. It’s a crowd that’s not representative of the typical Democratic Party voter. Many of those in line identify as independents. Just as many are long-time Republican voters. All are motivated by what they describe as the intriguing appeal of a new voice in American politics.
“He’s kind of like Bernie Sanders,” said Scott Brown, the former Republican senator from Massachusetts, who attended the speech. “I don’t agree with a thing that Bernie Sanders says. But the fact that he believes it? I respect. That’s very, very rare in politics.”
In the hours before his speech at the St. Anselm auditorium, volunteers were making a brisk business selling “Kennedy 24″ T-shirts and copies of his autobiography American Values which features a black and white photograph of Bobby Junior riding piggyback on his dad. The Kennedy swag looks vintage, and regardless of whatever Kennedy family differences might exist under the surface, here in the backwoods conventional halls of New Hampshire, the Kennedy name is irresistible.
“I can see myself never voting for Biden,” said Earl Baumgartner, a town council member in rural Massachusetts. “I am 70 years old and I have lost a step. I am not as sharp as I used to be and he is what, ten years older? Twelve years? I don’t like what I see.” Baumgartner said he normally votes Republican but came to St. Anselm to test drive Kennedy.
“I see the Republicans as a little bit outlandish at this point, not doing what the people of the country wanted them to do. My real interest in being here tonight, is to learn more about what Kennedy has to say and to be able to make an informed decision next year.”
The Democrats in the crowd have doubts about the current administration. “I have always liked Joe Biden—‘the brain of the Senate’—but I believe that his time has passed. And there is another shoe that has to fall. Do you like Kamala Harris?” queried Xavier Anglin, a member of the Democratic Party. “What happens if something happens to our president and now we have Kamala Harris?’”
So many voters are waiting to hear him speak—both online and in person—that it is increasingly difficult to ignore what liberal pundits have tried to dismiss as a crank candidacy. Rebecca Traister in New York magazine called the coalition supporting Bobby Kennedy Jr. “a warped fantasy of marginalization and martyrdom” and blamed him for widespread disinformation. “Either he has no idea what kind of fire he’s playing with, or he does and is therefore an arsonist,” she writes. After several days on the campaign trail, however, the campaign feels more like a populist brushfire raging from the mountains of Idaho to the forests of New Hampshire.
This groundswell is forcing the hand of the Democratic Party to acknowledge Kennedy’s candidacy. In early July, his campaign announced it had raised a million dollars a day during a three-day push. Kennedy’s Twitter following is surging by roughly 100,000 followers a week and he is far ahead of all other Democrats (and Republicans) in a Forbes poll when potential voters are asked a simple question: Do you have a positive or negative view of these presidential candidates? While Trump rated negative 10% and Biden polled negative 9%, Kennedy notched a positive 19%.
Democratic Party officials now understand that confronting Kennedy carries as much risk as ignoring him. The party leadership continues to insist that no primary debates will be held because Biden has been anointed as the incumbent. The Democratic National Committee’s hardball position is dividing the party as 80% of Democratic voters prefer to hear different candidates in a series of debates.
“So many Americans feel that the electoral system is rigged, and it is just a bad optic to see party hacks, party bosses pick the candidate with no input from the public and no need to do town halls or genuine debates,” Kennedy said in an interview with this reporter. “It seems more like the Soviet system.”
At his speeches, the full spectrum of Kennedy’s rhetorical powers were on display. His campaign loaded vintage photos to screens on stage—black and white epic shots from the 60’s, which then roll through a montage of images invoking the civil rights movement of that era and marches against the U.S. invasion of Vietnam. The message is anything but subtle: in times of national strife, a bold leader can bring the tribes together. A Kennedy.
Standing before an overflowing crowd at St. Anselm and in front of a flag draped stage, Kennedy delivered his “Peace and Diplomacy” speech, which called for massive reductions to America’s 800 overseas military bases and deep cuts to the nation’s $2.4 billion a day military budget. He accused America’s leaders of being warmongers beholden to a cartel of arms dealers, arm manufacturers, and the CIA. “Is it any wonder that as America has waged violence on the world that violence has overtaken us in our own nation?”
Focusing on the Russian invasion of the Ukraine, he said, “I think it is an easy war to settle. We know what the Russians want. They don’t want NATO in the Ukraine and we shouldn’t be putting it there,” specifically arguing that a lighter U.S. military footprint could be replaced by a harder—and far less expensive—diplomatic hand. “The Russians have been willing to negotiate from the beginning, we have refused to talk to them, despite them asking us again and again to sit down…The communication has indeed become little more than an exchange of threats and insults. FDR met with Stalin, JFK met with Khrushchev, Nixon met with Brezhnev, Reagan met with Gorbachev. Can’t Biden meet with Putin?”
Kennedy easily switched from world politics to family stories, telling the audience about his youth inside the White House with “Uncle Jack” and Giorgio, a Russian spy his father met at the Soviet Embassy who brought Russian song and dance to the Kennedy living room. He joked about the red phone at his family house on the Massachusetts seashore which held a hotline connecting President Kennedy with Russian leader Nikita Khrushchev. “Our parents told us ‘Don’t ever touch that phone!’ and we knew that if we picked that phone up, Khrushchev was going to pick up.” The crowd erupted in laughter.
Kennedy mixes his imperial roots with an ability to talk to pretty much anyone who crosses his path. A selfie video on his Twitter feed shows him driving a beat up station wagon near his home in the hills of Los Angeles that has no seatbelts and practically no seats yet is packed with hikers and athletes and his dog.
On the campaign trail, Kennedy openly attacks Anthony Fauci for his role in the COVID lockdowns and describes Biden as a puppet of neo-con warmongers, but yet avoids personally besmirching Biden—whom he voted for in the last election. When a reporter on the campaign presses him to comment on Hunter Biden’s cocaine habit, Kennedy hits the brakes, then slams the conversation into reverse. “I have helped hundreds of people get over addiction,” he says, noting that it is a brutal process for all involved.
Kennedy has arrived on the election trail at a moment when institutions from the Catholic Church to the Centers for Disease Control have been savaged by controversies. Overarching demands for lockdowns, mandatory vaccines, and heavy handed implementation of COVID restrictions further frayed public trust in public health officials.
In a moment when eleven-year-old children are flooding Tik Tok with videos proving the Titanic never sank, the World Health Organization debates declaring the sweetener aspartame (found in products like Diet Coke) a potential carcinogen, and U.S. chemical giant 3M pays $12 billion in a lawsuit over “forever chemicals” (poisoning the livers and lives of millions), is there any wonder that a credibility gap has opened the floodgates to a wave of anything-is-probable thinking?
Love him or despise him, few can ignore the presence of Robert Kennedy Jr. on the campaign trail. And there is evidence that Kennedy understands his life was destined to be epic. Privately, Kennedy confides to his staff that after the murder of his dad, his family doubled down on a core value: the importance of holding beliefs so essentially important that someone might want to kill you. And, he told his staff, never lose faith in the certainty that in life, there are fates worse than death.
Kennedy, like no other candidate, indeed like almost no other citizen in the United States, is privileged—or cursed—to understand the landscape of American conspiracy theories, real and imagined, from the inside, in a way that even the nation’s greatest novelists have failed to fully capture.
