African American Presidential Candidates: What Most People Get Wrong

History is messy. We like to think it moves in a straight line, like a ladder where each rung is a neat, logical step toward progress. But when you look at the reality of African American presidential candidates, it’s more like a jagged mountain range. Some peaks are famous, like Obama in 2008 or Kamala Harris in 2024. Others? They’re almost completely buried by time, even though they were the ones who actually broke the ground.

Honestly, if you ask most people who the first Black person to run for president was, they’ll probably guess Jesse Jackson. If they’re really into history, they might say Shirley Chisholm. Both are wrong.

The story actually starts in 1872 with Frederick Douglass.

Yeah, that Frederick Douglass. He was nominated for Vice President by the Equal Rights Party, running alongside Victoria Woodhull. He didn't even ask for the nomination—he was in the middle of a speaking tour and basically found out about it in the newspapers. He never officially campaigned, but the precedent was set. The idea that a Black man could occupy the highest offices in the land wasn't just a dream; it was a formal, documented political fact before the turn of the 20th century.

The Candidates You’ve Probably Never Heard Of

Most folks skip straight from the 1800s to the 1970s. You're missing a whole lot of drama in between. Take George Edwin Taylor. In 1904, Taylor ran as the candidate for the National Negro Liberty Party. He was a journalist and a former labor leader who got tired of both major parties ignoring the surge in lynching and the stripping of voting rights in the South.

He knew he wasn't going to win. That wasn't the point.

Taylor was using the platform to force a conversation that the Republicans and Democrats were too "polite" to have. It's a pattern we see over and over. Many African American presidential candidates in the early 20th century weren't looking for a keys-to-the-White-House moment; they were looking for a microphone.

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• Channing E. Phillips (1968): He was the first Black person to receive nomination votes at a major party convention. He was a favorite son candidate from D.C., and while it was symbolic, it shattered a ceiling that had been reinforced for a century.
• Charlene Mitchell (1968): Running for the Communist Party, she was the first Black woman to ever run for president. She’s often left out of the "firsts" lists because of her party affiliation, but history doesn't care about your politics—it cares about who was there first.
• Clennon King (1960): An independent who tried to crash the party during the height of the Civil Rights movement.

Shirley Chisholm and the "Folding Chair" Strategy

"If they don't give you a seat at the table, bring a folding chair."

You've seen that quote on T-shirts and Instagram captions. But the context of Shirley Chisholm’s 1972 run is way more intense than a slogan. She wasn't just fighting the "white establishment." She was fighting her own colleagues.

Many Black male political leaders at the time were actually annoyed she was running. They thought her candidacy would "split the vote" or that a man should lead the first serious charge. Even Gloria Steinem and some white feminists backed George McGovern instead of her because they thought he was more "electable."

Chisholm's run was a lonely one. She survived three assassination attempts during the campaign. She was blocked from televised debates until she sued. Despite all that, she walked into the Democratic National Convention with 152 delegates. She didn't just bring a chair; she tried to rebuild the whole room.

The Jesse Jackson Effect

By the time 1984 rolled around, the "symbolic" era was ending. Jesse Jackson’s "Rainbow Coalition" was a massive operation. People forget that in 1988, Jackson didn't just "run"—he almost won the nomination. He won 13 primaries and caucuses. He got nearly 7 million votes.

He proved that an African American presidential candidate could build a multi-racial, working-class base that could actually compete for the win. Without Jackson's 1988 map, there is no Obama 2008. Jackson showed the Democratic Party that the "Black vote" wasn't a monolith and that it was powerful enough to dictate the terms of the entire election.

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Why We Get the "Obama Era" Wrong

There's this weird misconception that Barack Obama’s win was a sudden lightning bolt out of nowhere.

It wasn't.

It was the result of forty years of infrastructure building. It was the result of Lenora Fulani, who in 1988 became the first woman and first African American to get on the ballot in all 50 states as an independent. It was the result of Alan Keyes bringing Black conservatism to the national debate stage in the 90s and 2000s.

Even the "failures" mattered. When Carol Moseley Braun ran in 2004, or Al Sharpton the same year, they were testing the air. They were figuring out which states were ready for a person of color on the ticket and which ones were still stuck in the 1950s.

The Modern Shift: Harris and the 2024 Context

When Kamala Harris became the nominee in 2024, the conversation shifted again. For the first time, the "first" wasn't the only story. People were talking about her policy on Gaza, her record as a prosecutor, and her economic plans.

That is arguably the biggest milestone of all.

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Success for African American presidential candidates used to be measured by how many delegates they got before they were forced out. Now, it's measured by the same brutal, standard political metrics as anyone else. We’ve moved from "Can they run?" to "Will they win?" to "What will they actually do?"

What This Means for You

If you're following politics today, don't just look at the faces on the screen. Look at the lineage. Understanding this history helps you spot the difference between a "symbolic" candidate and a "structural" one.

Actionable Insights to Take Away:

• Fact-check the "Firsts": Next time someone says Shirley Chisholm was the first Black person to run, you can kindly point them to George Edwin Taylor or Frederick Douglass. It’s not just trivia; it’s about acknowledging the length of the struggle.
• Watch the Primaries: Historically, Black candidates use the primary season to shift the party platform even if they don't win. Look at Cornel West or other independent voices; their impact is often found in the fine print of the winner's eventual policy list.
• Support Local Infrastructure: National candidates don't fall from the sky. They come from school boards and state senates. If you want to see more diverse representation at the top, it starts with the local "folding chairs."

The history of African American presidential candidates isn't a closed book. It's a living document. We're still writing the chapters where race is a factor, but not the only factor, and that’s exactly what those early pioneers were aiming for all along.

Next Steps for Deep Research:
You can further your understanding by visiting the Library of Congress Digital Collections to view original campaign materials from the National Negro Liberty Party. Additionally, reading Shirley Chisholm's autobiography, Unbought and Unbossed, provides a raw, first-hand account of the internal party politics of the 1970s that still mirror many of today's challenges.