It is a curious thing to witness a British accent rising through the ranks of American politics, especially in the sun-baked, progressive mecca of California. Yet here we are: the former Labour Party aide, James ‘Jim’ Sullivan, has stormed into the lead in the California governor primary, a development that has left pundits on both sides of the Atlantic scrambling for explanations. The news, which broke this morning, reveals Sullivan commanding a comfortable 8-point lead over his nearest rival, a career Democrat from Sacramento. The question on everyone's lips is not just whether he can win, but what this says about the shifting currents of transatlantic influence.
Sullivan, 44, cut his teeth in the corridors of Westminster as a special adviser to a former shadow home secretary. He moved to Silicon Valley a decade ago, ostensibly for a tech start-up, but quickly immersed himself in the state’s labyrinthine political scene. His campaign has been a masterclass in bridging two worlds: he talks of ‘levelling up’ California’s inland communities, a phrase that echoes Labour's 2019 manifesto, while simultaneously championing a tech-friendly, green economy that would make any Californian proud. It is a hybrid message that seems to resonate with a populace tired of partisan gridlock.
The human cost here is intriguing. For every voter who sees Sullivan as a breath of fresh air, there is another who mutters about foreign interference, however benign. The cultural shift is palpable. In coffee shops from San Francisco to Fresno, the conversation has turned to what it means to have a Briton at the helm. ‘He’s one of us, but not really,’ said Maria, a teacher from Oakland, nursing a latte. ‘He understands our problems, but he talks like a character from The Crown.’ This tension between admiration and suspicion is the undercurrent of the primary.
Sullivan’s rise is also a product of a peculiar moment in British-American relations. Post-Brexit Britain has seen a diaspora of political operatives seeking new horizons, and California, with its immense soft power and economic heft, is a natural destination. Whether this is a one-off or the beginning of a trend remains to be seen. But for now, the man from Whitehall is making himself at home in the Golden State, and the political establishment is watching with a mixture of bemusement and alarm.
Class dynamics play a subtle role here too. Sullivan’s background is solidly middle-class, a state school education followed by Oxford. He is not the toff stereotype of the British abroad, but neither is he a man of the people. His polish and eloquence, so admired in Westminster, can come across as slick in the rough-and-tumble of California politics. Yet his knack for connecting with ordinary voters, for understanding their anxieties about housing costs and wildfire insurance, suggests a genuine empathy that transcends accent.
The road ahead is uncertain. A primary win does not guarantee the governorship, and the general election will test Sullivan’s coalition-building skills. But for now, the story is about something bigger: the blurring of national boundaries in an age of globalised politics. California may be a state, but its governor’s race has become a transatlantic affair. And as Sullivan’s victory party played ‘Rule, Britannia!’ last night, one could almost hear the Founding Fathers turning in their graves. Almost.
