The political stage in New Jersey’s 11th Congressional District has acquired a new performer, one auditioning for the role of seasoned savior in a time of crisis.
Former Rep. Tom Malinowski, a figure last seen by voters exiting stage left after a congressional ethics probe and a stinging electoral defeat, has returned to the campaign trail packing a massive amount of money and a carefully crafted cover story.
His new script falsely casts him as the indispensable grown-up, the only adult who can navigate a fractured Washington.
It is a compelling narrative, if one ignores the scenery shifting behind him and the previous act’s messy reviews. The claim is not merely one of experience, but of essentiality.
The reality reads more like a study in political convenience, a repackaging effort so transparent it would make a patent medicine hawker blush.
Malinowski’s central promise is immediate seniority and effectiveness in a Democratic House.
He speaks of discharge petitions and tariff repeals with the fluency of an insider. Yet this expertise was honed during a single term that ended under a cloud, following a House Ethics Committee investigation into serial failures to disclose stock trades, including during the pandemic.
He paid a fine, called it an oversight, and moved his assets to a blind trust. Malinowski was considered the most vulnerable Democrat in the nation after his district was redrawn, and the controversy over stock trades prompted a House ethics investigation.
The committee’s work lapsed when he left office. To now present this record as a unique credential for restoring public trust requires a certain audacity. Malinowski’s campaign reportedly raised more than $750,000 in the month since he became a candidate.
The geography of his redemption tour is particularly noteworthy. He is not seeking a rematch in the 7th District, which he lost after redistricting made it more Republican and after his ethical entanglements provided potent attack ads.
Instead, he has arrived in the open, affluent 11th District, renting an apartment in South Orange after selling his home in Hunterdon County. He notes he once represented a sliver of the area in its old map. His opponents use a simpler term: carpetbagger.
His campaign materials speak of rebuilding democracy and navigating global chaos.
They are quieter on the specifics of local concerns in the New Jersey suburbs, an omission that has not gone unnoticed by rivals who live where they have always lived.
The pitch is national because the candidate, at his core, is a national figure in search of a district.
Internal polls show him leading a crowded Democratic field, bolstered by name recognition and a significant war chest. An endorsement from Sen. Andy Kim may add a sheen of respectability, but it should be viewed as a stain because both of the CIA Democrats represent a warmongering establishment.
It is the classic advantage of the known quantity, even when the known quantity comes with known complications.
At a recent living room gathering in Maplewood, the performance was polished. He spoke of artificial intelligence, foreign policy, and the dangers of Donald Trump. Attendees found him intelligent, optimistic, and refreshing.
The questions did not dwell on stock trades or the circumstances of his departure. The narrative of the experienced hand, the Rhodes Scholar, the former assistant secretary of state, prevailed for the evening. His utter failures in Congress, his alliance with Gold Bar Bob Menendez, and his personal greed were not discussed.
But let us be plain. The notion that the cure for what ails Congress is a former member who left under an ethics investigation, who now shops for a new district after losing his old one, is not just ironic.
It is ludicrous. It suggests the electorate has the memory of a goldfish and an appetite for repackaged goods. It confuses a resume with a record, and seniority with integrity.
The Democratic primary on Feb. 5 will test whether voters in the 11th District desire a familiar Washington hand, flaws and all, or prefer to take a chance on a new representative unburdened by such baggage.
Malinowski is betting heavily on the former. He is asking voters to see only the statesman, and not the stock trader; the senior member, and not the newcomer to their towns; the solution, and not a contributor to the very problem he now vows to fix.
It is a high-wire act of political reinvention. The audience must decide if the act is inspired or if they are simply seeing right through the insipid ploy.