Perriello, by contrast, has made a name for himself as an energetic champion of social and economic justice who can connect with voters in both blue cities and rural red districts. In 2008, after nearly a decade as a human rights lawyer and peace negotiator in Darfur and Afghanistan, he overcame a 34-point deficit to unseat six-term Republican congressman Virgil Goode in a conservative southern district. In Congress, he was a staunch supporter of Obama’s agenda, voting for cap-and-trade, economic stimulus, and the Affordable Care Act. To sell Obamacare to his conservative constituents, he held more town halls in 2009 than any other congressman—and the following year he was rewarded as the only individual House candidate for whom the president campaigned. If he wins, it will be a major victory for the left wing of the party, which argues that the future lies not in cautious, Clintonesque triangulation, but in forceful, Sanders-like appeals for economic equality. “People are looking for a progressive fighter who can stand up and call Trump out for what he is,” Perriello says.

While not a direct Bernie Sanders stand-in, Perriello has picked up his populist mantle. Courtesy of Tom Perriello Campaign

The party itself has been slow to adopt that view. After Trump’s victory, House Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi blithely insisted that Democrats did not need to rethink their policies: “I don’t think people want a new direction,” she told Face the Nation. In February, Democrats selected Obama’s former labor secretary, Tom Perez, to serve as chairman of the DNC—beating out Representative Keith Ellison, a Sanders supporter who promised to put the party more in touch with its populist roots. But in recent weeks, emboldened by their initial victories over Trump’s travel ban and the Affordable Care Act, Democrats have gradually begun to embrace their role as the party of resistance. Even Perez acknowledges that the status quo isn’t working. “We have to rebuild our party,” he told Meet the Press. “We also have to redefine our mission.”

Virginia, however, didn’t get the memo. While the party hasn’t been open about its opposition to Perriello, he faces an uphill fight. Since announcing his candidacy, he has crisscrossed the state, appearing at anti-Trump protests like the one outside Dulles Airport in the hours after Trump’s immigration ban went into effect. He’s also been meeting with groups of Trump supporters every week, promoting his plans to revitalize rural communities and fight the opioid epidemic. He talks about the threat of automation to Virginia’s manufacturing jobs and the need for free higher education, and pitches a $15 minimum wage wherever he goes. When health care comes up, as it often does, he emphasizes his long-held support for a public option. “He’s the Bernie Sanders of the Virginia Democratic Party,” says Rozell, the political scientist.

Such stances have endeared Perriello to the Sanders wing of the party. Some of his most ardent supporters are young volunteers from Indivisible, which has emerged as perhaps the leading grassroots organization against Trump. Leah Greenberg, one of the group’s founders, worked for Perriello in Congress and served until recently as his policy director; Perriello officiated at her wedding. “It’s a situation where the energy within the Democratic electorate is on the progressive side,” says Kidd, the Virginia pollster. At a town hall in Manassas, one supporter hails Perriello as “not the chosen son of the establishment.” Another voices her disgust with politics as usual. “I’m sick of the Democratic Party,” she tells him. “But we’re with you!” In April, a town hall at the University of Virginia had to be moved mid-speech because so many college students showed up to hear Perriello that it violated the fire code.