“Would the senator entertain a question?” inquired Democratic leader Chuck Schumer.
Senator Cory Booker, who had transformed into the fighter many Democrats hoped for throughout a lengthy and challenging day, responded with a sly grin: “Chuck Schumer, this is the one time in my life I can confidently say no.”
However, Schumer was not accepting a no. “I just wanted to mention, this is not just a question, do you realize you’ve just set a new record? Are you aware of how proud this caucus is of you? How proud America is of you?”
New Jersey’s first Black senator had just eclipsed the record for the longest speech in Senate history, previously held by South Carolina’s Strom Thurmond, an infamous segregationist who filibustered for 24 hours and 18 minutes against the Civil Rights Act of 1957.
In a typically somber Senate chamber, around 40 Democrats stood in enthusiastic applause. A few hundred members of the public, where the busts of 20 former vice-presidents looked down from their marble pedestals, erupted in clapping, cheering, and whooping. The senator took a tissue to wipe the sweat from his brow.
Although Booker’s obstruction wasn’t during the voting on any bill, it wasn’t technically classified as a filibuster. Yet it represented the first time in Donald Trump’s second term that Democrats consciously obstructed Senate proceedings.
Indeed, after 72 days where Democrats seemed ineffectual and disorganized, Booker emerged and took action. He was compelled by his constituents to think creatively and embrace risks, which he certainly did. In an environment often dominated by the forces of MAGA, his marathon speech provided a glimmer of hope in trying times.
While some Democrats have clumsily sought authenticity through cringe-inducing TikTok videos like a “Choose Your Fighter” parody, Booker opted for a more traditional route: a single man standing and speaking for hours on end on the Senate floor, resembling the iconic scenes from the 1939 film Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, starring Jimmy Stewart.
The marathon began at 7 p.m. on Monday, when Booker, donned with a US flag pin on his dark suit, white shirt, and black tie—as if dressed for the funeral of democracy—proclaimed: “I rise tonight intending to cause some good trouble. I rise with the intent of disrupting the standard operations of the United States Senate for as long as I’m physically capable.”
“I rise tonight because I genuinely believe our country is in crisis… These are not ordinary times in America, and they shouldn’t be treated as such in the United States Senate. The threats to the American people and American democracy are severe and immediate, and we all must do more to resist them.”
What transpired was a remarkable exhibition of physical endurance. The 55-year-old, who once played tight end for Stanford University’s football team, requested a Senate page to remove his chair to avoid the temptation to sit down, which is against Senate rules. The chair could be seen pushed against the wall.
Above Booker, inscribed in the Senate chamber, were the words “Novus Ordo Seclorum”—a Latin phrase meaning “a new order of the ages” or “a new order of the centuries”—depicting a heroic image wrestling a snake.
Booker leaned against his desk, sipping from a glass of water. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other or paced to keep circulation flowing in his legs. Wiping his brow with a white handkerchief, he took a tissue from a blue-grey box, blew his nose, and discarded it in a bin. He persevered.
Alexandra De Luca, vice president of communications at the liberal group American Bridge, tweeted: “I worked for Cory Booker on the campaign trail and (and I say this with love) that man consumes more caffeine on a regular day than most people do in a week. This could go on for a while.”
Booker may also serve as a strong advocate for veganism. He was jocular, engaging in light-hearted banter with colleagues about sports and state rivalries. He became emotional, with his voice trembling and eyes watery, especially when reflecting on a letter from the family of someone battling Parkinson’s disease, reminiscent of his late father.
He also expressed righteous indignation, channeling the frustration of those witnessing their beloved country slipping away. Yet his mind remained sharp and voice robust until the end. His performance was also a masterclass in political oratory, which Schumer aptly lauded for its “crystalline brilliance.”
Recurring themes emerged throughout: Trump’s economic turmoil and escalating prices; billionaires increasing their power; Elon Musk, the world’s wealthiest person, dismantling entire government programs without Congressional approval, causing pain to children, military veterans, and other vulnerable populations.
Booker recited numerous letters from what he termed “terrified individuals” with “heart-wrenching” tales. As time went on, he quoted a former USAid employee who shared a devastating account of shattered dreams, lamenting: “The beacon of our democracy is dulling globally.”
The senator also cautioned against tyranny: Trump vanishing people from public view without due process; intimidating the media and aspiring to establish a press corps similar to that of Vladimir Putin or Recep Tayyip Erdoğan; amassing greater executive power and putting democracy itself in peril.
On multiple occasions, he inverted former president John F. Kennedy’s renowned phrase to issue a warning that today it’s no longer “ask not what your country can do for you. It’s about what you can do for Donald Trump.”
He acknowledged that the public desires Democrats to act with greater urgency. Yet he insisted that it can only go so far, and as seen in the civil rights movement, Americans must rise up. He frequently referred to a “moral moment,” invoking the late Congressman John Lewis, known for creating “good trouble.”
“This is not who we are or how we conduct ourselves in America,” Booker declared. “How much more can we endure before we, as a unified voice, say enough is enough? Enough is enough. You will not escape accountability for this.”
The Senate chamber features 100 wooden desks and brown leather chairs arranged in a tiered semicircular layout. For much of the marathon, nearly all the seats remained unoccupied, with only a handful of reporters present in the press gallery.
However, Democrat Chris Murphy remained alongside Booker throughout the speech. “We’ve surpassed the 15-hour mark,” Booker mentioned. “I want to thank Senator Murphy for staying by my side the entire time.”
Other Democrats occasionally took their turn to show support, asking if Booker would accept a question. He agreed, reading from a note to ensure proper wording: “I yield for a question while retaining the floor.”
At times, he would jokingly remark: “I have the floor. Such power is going to my head!”
Shortly after 10:30 a.m., Schumer, the minority leader, remarked to Booker: “Your strength, determination, and clarity have been nothing short of inspiring, and all of America is attuned to your message. All of America must be made aware of the numerous issues stemming from this administration’s disastrous actions.”
They discussed cuts to Medicaid before Booker replied: “You’ve offered so many kind words about me. But never before in American history has someone from Brooklyn said so many nice things about a person from Newark.”
Angela Alsobrooks, the first Black senator from Maryland, entered the chamber, caught Booker’s gaze, and raised a clenched fist in a shared display of defiance.
As Booker approached the 24-hour milestone, most Senate Democrats took their seats, and representatives from the House, including minority leader Hakeem Jeffries, occupied spots in the chamber. The public and press galleries became increasingly crowded.
Booker again evoked the spirit of Lewis, the civil rights icon. “I’m unsure how John Lewis would respond, but he would act. He would speak out. What we need to repent for isn’t the spoken and violent actions of bad people, but the shocking silence and inaction of good people. This is our moral moment.”
As Booker neared Thurmond’s record, Murphy noted the distinct nature of this speech. “Today you’re not obstructing progress, but rather averting regression,” he conveyed to his friend.
Booker remarked: “I could surpass the record of the man who sought to halt the rights that I stand upon. I’m not here due to his speech; I’m here in spite of his speech. I’m here because, as powerful as he was, the people wield greater power.”
Even after breaking the record, he continued. “I’d like to extend beyond this mark before addressing some biological needs that are arising,” he stated.
Ultimately, after 25 hours and four minutes, Booker proclaimed: “This is a moral moment. It’s not about left or right. It’s about right or wrong. Madam President, I yield the floor.”
Once again, the chamber erupted in applause, and Democrats surrounded their new unofficial leader. No one present will ever forget this event. Booker painted a vivid depiction of a great nation failing its populace, betraying its allies abroad, and heading towards authoritarian rule. He also presented a convincing argument that an inability to achieve everything shouldn’t deter the effort to accomplish something.
His was a powerful declaration of resistance.
