When your numbers are bad, saying you don't believe in polls sounds like desperation.
Un año después de asumir el poder con promesas de restaurar la unidad y el liderazgo estadounidense, Joe Biden se encontró ante el espejo incómodo de las cifras reales: logros genuinos en vacunación y empleo, pero una aprobación en caída, una nación más fracturada que nunida, y un mundo donde los espacios abandonados por Washington habían sido ocupados por otros. La conferencia de prensa del 19 de enero reveló no solo el estado de una presidencia, sino la tensión perenne entre el relato que los líderes necesitan contar y la realidad que los ciudadanos viven.
- Biden presentó cifras reales —210 millones de vacunados, 6 millones de empleos— pero su aprobación del 40% sugería que los logros no estaban llegando al corazón del electorado.
- La afirmación de que el país estaba más unido chocó de frente con analistas que documentaron divisiones más profundas que nunca, tanto entre partidos como dentro del propio Partido Demócrata.
- La promesa de convertir América Latina en el 'patio delantero' de Estados Unidos sonó vacía ante la evidencia de que China y Rusia habían avanzado en Venezuela, El Salvador y Nicaragua durante el año en que Washington miraba hacia otro lado.
- El rechazo de Biden a las encuestas —'no creo en los sondeos'— desconcertó a observadores que vieron en esa frase un eco inquietante del estilo Trump que Biden había prometido superar.
- Las elecciones de medio término se perfilan como el verdadero veredicto, mientras que el futuro de la dupla Biden-Harris ya genera especulaciones que revelan la fragilidad de una alianza que parecía sólida hace apenas un año.
Joe Biden compareció el 19 de enero ante la nación para defender su primer año de gobierno con cifras concretas: 210 millones de estadounidenses completamente vacunados frente a los dos millones del día de su inauguración, y seis millones de empleos creados. Sin embargo, esos logros llegaban envueltos en un contexto adverso: una aprobación caída al 40%, una inflación en ascenso y una pandemia que seguía perturbando las cadenas de suministro. El analista político Hernán Molina señaló que Biden intentaba abrirse paso en un ecosistema mediático dominado por noticias negativas, pero que su mensaje simplemente no estaba calando.
Cuando Biden afirmó que el país había ganado en unidad, los expertos lo contradijeron con claridad. Molina argumentó que la división se había profundizado —no solo entre republicanos y demócratas, sino dentro del propio partido gobernante, donde moderados y progresistas chocaban abiertamente. La analista internacional Brenda Estefan, exfuncionaria de la embajada mexicana en Washington, añadió que el Partido Republicano se había radicalizado hacia el trumpismo hasta crear una brecha sin precedentes recientes. Ambos coincidieron: las elecciones de medio término serían el momento de la verdad.
La declaración de Biden sobre América Latina —que ya no era el 'patio trasero' sino el 'patio delantero' de Estados Unidos— generó escepticismo similar. Molina fue directo: la región no había sido prioridad para Washington en décadas, y ese año no fue la excepción. Esa ausencia tuvo costos: China y Rusia ocuparon los espacios que Estados Unidos dejó vacíos. Estefan agregó que Biden había pasado buena parte del año en tensión con aliados tradicionales —la crisis submarina con Francia, la retirada descoordinada de Afganistán— lo que hacía aún menos creíble la promesa de una nueva atención hacia el sur.
La respuesta de Biden ante la pregunta sobre sus bajos índices de aprobación —'no creo en las encuestas'— sorprendió a los observadores. Estefan lo encontró revelador: sonaba más a Trump que al Biden que había construido su identidad sobre el respeto a la ciencia y los datos. Sobre el futuro de la dupla con Kamala Harris, los analistas leyeron el respaldo presidencial como una obligación política más que una convicción. Harris había visto caer su propia aprobación, y ya circulaban otros nombres para un eventual ticket en 2024 —señal elocuente de cuánto había cambiado la conversación en apenas doce meses.
Joe Biden stood before the nation on Wednesday, January 19th, marking his first year in office with a defense of his record that felt, to many observers, like a man trying to convince himself as much as his audience. The numbers he cited were real enough: 210 million Americans fully vaccinated, up from two million on inauguration day. Six million new jobs created—more, he said, than in any single year before. Yet these accomplishments arrived wrapped in the context of a presidency battered by forces beyond his control and some squarely within it. His approval rating had fallen to 40 percent. The pandemic still haunted supply chains. Inflation was climbing. And the country, he acknowledged, remained divided—though perhaps not in the way he hoped to frame it.
Political analyst Hernán Molina, speaking to El Comercio, offered a sympathetic reading of Biden's rhetorical position. The president, Molina suggested, was attempting to cut through a media landscape dominated by negative coverage by insisting that good things had happened alongside the bad. Infrastructure legislation had passed. Vaccination rates had soared. But Molina also noted what Biden could not control: the structural forces reshaping the economy in ways that no executive order could reverse. The real challenge, Molina argued, was that Biden's message wasn't landing. His low approval numbers proved it.
When Biden claimed the nation had grown more unified since his arrival, experts pushed back sharply. Molina disagreed outright, arguing that division had actually deepened—not just between parties, but within the Democratic Party itself, as moderates and progressives clashed over how aggressively to pursue their agenda. The Republican Party, meanwhile, had calcified into near-total opposition. Brenda Estefan, an international analyst who had worked at Mexico's embassy in Washington, echoed this assessment. She noted that American politics had historically operated closer to the center, where bipartisan coalitions could form. Now, she said, majorities were razor-thin. In the Senate, Democrats voted against their own president's proposals. The radicalization of the Republican Party toward Trumpism had created a chasm wider than anything the country had seen in recent memory. Both analysts agreed: the midterm elections would be a reckoning.
Biden's claim that Latin America was no longer America's "backyard" but its "front yard" drew similar skepticism. "We used to talk about the backyard of the United States," Biden had said, "but it's not the backyard. I think south of the Mexican border is the front yard of the United States." Yet his first year had offered little evidence of this reorientation. Molina was direct: Latin America had not been a priority for Washington in decades, and this year was no exception. That absence had consequences. China and Russia had moved into spaces the United States had abandoned—in Venezuela, El Salvador, Nicaragua, and elsewhere. Estefan added another dimension: Biden had spent much of the year in tension with traditional American allies. The submarine crisis with France, the chaotic withdrawal from Afghanistan without coordinating with coalition partners—these suggested a president struggling to maintain relationships even with established friends, let alone cultivate new attention toward a region he claimed to prioritize.
When a reporter asked Biden about his low approval ratings, the president's response—"I don't believe in polls"—caught observers off guard. Estefan found it striking, even troubling. The comment sounded more like Donald Trump than like Biden, a president who had built his identity partly on respect for expertise and data. Here was Biden dismissing the very measurement tools that revealed his political weakness. The irony was sharp: a man who championed science was rejecting the scientific measurement of his own standing.
On the question of whether Vice President Kamala Harris would remain his running mate in 2024, Biden offered what sounded like a commitment but what analysts read as contingent. He hadn't announced his own reelection bid, Molina noted—a significant omission just one year into his term. If the public knew Biden wouldn't run again, the political conversation would shift immediately to succession. Harris herself had seen her approval ratings fall since taking office. Rumors circulated that she was difficult to work with. Molina suggested Biden had little choice but to back her publicly, having chosen her in the first place. But Estefan offered a different reading: it was far too early to know what Biden would do. The midterm elections would come first. Only then, as the third year of his presidency approached, would the real calculation begin. Already, she noted, analysts were floating other names for a potential 2024 ticket—a striking shift from the early days of his administration, when Harris had been discussed as his natural successor. That change itself spoke volumes about the fragility of the Biden-Harris partnership.
Notable Quotes
The country is even more divided than before, but unifying it is not just the task of a president—it's the task of everyone, especially those with platforms like senators and governors.— Hernán Molina, political analyst
Latin America has not been a priority for Washington in recent decades, and China and Russia have filled the spaces the United States abandoned.— Hernán Molina, political analyst
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why did Biden feel compelled to defend his record so forcefully when the numbers—the jobs, the vaccines—were genuinely strong?
Because numbers don't move people the way stories do, and the story people were hearing was one of chaos and decline. Inflation at the grocery store matters more than six million jobs if you can't afford bread.
But the experts seem to suggest he was lying about unity and Latin America. Were those deliberate falsehoods?
Not exactly. They were aspirational claims meeting a reality that hadn't caught up. He was saying what he wished were true, or what he believed should be true, rather than what actually was.
The comment about not believing in polls—that seemed to genuinely surprise people.
It did. Because it sounded like desperation dressed up as principle. When your numbers are bad and you say you don't believe in the measurement, people hear you saying you don't believe in reality.
What about Harris? Is she actually going to be on the ticket in 2024?
Probably not, though Biden couldn't say that yet. He needed to project stability. But the fact that other names are already being discussed tells you everything about how much confidence there is in her.
So this speech was really about buying time?
It was about trying to reset the narrative before it reset him. Whether it worked depends entirely on what happens in November.