Peltola Declares War on Sullivan: Can Democrats Seize Alaska’s Senate Seat?

Paul Riverbank, 1/13/2026Mary Peltola launches a high-stakes Senate bid against incumbent Dan Sullivan, framing Alaska’s shrinking abundance as a call for change. With economic pressures, shifting allegiances, and ranked-choice voting, Alaska’s independent streak puts this race—and its national consequences—at the center of 2026’s political drama.

The way she tells it, growing up in remote villages meant you never worried much about running out of food. “I remember when we’d fill freezers with salmon and moose, friends sharing bags of berries,” she reminisces in her video message. But today, the feeling is different—families in Anchorage gripe about ground beef prices in the Safeway freezer section, and out in the bush, empty nets are a source of quiet dread. Peltola doesn’t mince words: “We’re living with scarcity now, and the system in D.C. isn’t made for us.”

This sentiment digs deeper than standard campaign soundbites. There’s a distinct strain in Alaskan culture—a wary pride about making do without help from Washington. But for many, it’s getting harder to ignore the tightening economic squeeze: fuel prices swinging wildly, shelves that don’t always fill up at the village co-op, and housing costs that leave young families bunking with relatives for far longer than planned.

Peltola’s campaign leans hard into these anxieties. She’s betting on a promise: that “real change—not just another government program—can put food on the table and cut energy costs.” For a state where folks still trade fish for firewood, that message has teeth.

Of course, her resume is not short on drama either. In 2022, she surprised just about everyone by flipping Alaska’s sole House seat, defeating a field that included Sarah Palin in a contest most national pundits chalked up as a Republican lock. But by 2024, GOP challenger Nick Begich III reclaimed that seat, riding a red wave some chalked up to simple party fatigue. Alaska often zigs where analysts expect a zag.

Some speculated Peltola would try the governor’s mansion instead, but her decision to challenge Sullivan stunned even veteran campaign watchers. He’s a two-term Republican and no political lightweight, counting on years of groundwork across rural and urban areas alike. Sullivan points to projects like the massive Alaska LNG pipeline—an 800-mile stretch of ambition that’s supposed to finally transform the state’s energy fortunes. The Senator is adamant that “Washington Democrats are no friends to Alaska,” taking aim at what he calls a tidal wave of Biden administration executive orders.

Yet if you walk through the parking lot at Carrs or spend an evening at a Nome town hall, you’ll hear voters uttering the same refrains: groceries are draining paychecks, and jobs aren’t growing as promised. Peltola’s critique of “a rigged DC system,” while sharp, isn’t out of place at all.

Alaska’s not just a red or blue state, though national media often miss that. Anchorage skews Democratic, but an hour’s drive north, the Mat-Su valley is planting new subdivisions and yard signs all along the Palmer-Wasilla highway, and they typically vote Republican. It makes winning statewide office a puzzle; name recognition is gold, which partly explains why Peltola’s a credible threat.

Add another wild card—ranked-choice voting. Unlike the rest of the country, Alaskans rank their top picks rather than circle just one. This quirk delivered both surprise results and headaches for party insiders. Peltola won her House seat in 2022 in part thanks to Republicans splitting their votes. But there’s a live effort to repeal the system—ironically, it’ll still be in effect for the 2026 races regardless of the ballot measure’s outcome.

On the trail, Peltola references the heyday of icons like Ted Stevens and Don Young. “They put Alaska first, above politics,” she reminds audiences, hinting at a time when the state’s congressional delegation could be counted on to buck their party. The subtext is clear: she wants to resurrect that bipartisan spirit.

As for public mood, it’s not exactly easy to pin down—not least because Alaska’s polling is infrequent and prone to wild margins. But the numbers we do have suggest Sullivan’s popularity is in a bit of a dip; the same is true for Governor Dunleavy and Senator Murkowski. Perhaps more remarkable are the quiet rumblings in local politics—on Facebook groups, in smoke-stained coffee shops, and at community center fish fries, folks are more restless than usual.

With national Democrats hungry to flip every possible Senate seat, Alaska’s contest is drawing money and eyes. At the same time, Republicans feel emboldened after Begich’s resurgence. They argue that, in a year where Trump won Alaska handily, history is still on their side. But Alaska’s politics are a bit like a Yukon river break-up: predictable, until suddenly they’re not.

So, the stage is set. On one side, a Senator touting years of experience and ambitious infrastructure projects. On the other, a former Congresswoman leaning into discontent and Alaska’s tradition of independence. Whichever way it goes, this fight looks less like the nationalized showdowns elsewhere, and more like an old-school, often personal, Alaska contest—unpredictable to the end. As Peltola herself quipped, “If anyone’s going to set things right, it’s Alaskans.”

With so much on the line—not only for one state, but the future balance of the U.S. Senate—it’s hard to predict the final tally. But one thing’s certain: even outsiders are watching, waiting to see just what kind of message Alaskans will deliver this time.

When Mary Peltola released her new campaign announcement this week, it wasn’t the glitzy, made-for-TV production folks in the Lower 48 might expect. Instead, she stood in front of a backdrop familiar to anyone from Bethel: spartan, rugged, honest—even the kind of weather that usually makes people talk about leaving, not running for office. That’s classic Alaska. This time, though, Peltola is reaching beyond Congress and going after a Senate seat—specifically, Senator Dan Sullivan’s.The way she tells it, growing up in remote villages meant you never worried much about running out of food. “I remember when we’d fill freezers with salmon and moose, friends sharing bags of berries,” she reminisces in her video message. But today, the feeling is different—families in Anchorage gripe about ground beef prices in the Safeway freezer section, and out in the bush, empty nets are a source of quiet dread. Peltola doesn’t mince words: “We’re living with scarcity now, and the system in D.C. isn’t made for us.”This sentiment digs deeper than standard campaign soundbites. There’s a distinct strain in Alaskan culture—a wary pride about making do without help from Washington. But for many, it’s getting harder to ignore the tightening economic squeeze: fuel prices swinging wildly, shelves that don’t always fill up at the village co-op, and housing costs that leave young families bunking with relatives for far longer than planned.Peltola’s campaign leans hard into these anxieties. She’s betting on a promise: that “real change—not just another government program—can put food on the table and cut energy costs.” For a state where folks still trade fish for firewood, that message has teeth.Of course, her resume is not short on drama either. In 2022, she surprised just about everyone by flipping Alaska’s sole House seat, defeating a field that included Sarah Palin in a contest most national pundits chalked up as a Republican lock. But by 2024, GOP challenger Nick Begich III reclaimed that seat, riding a red wave some chalked up to simple party fatigue. Alaska often zigs where analysts expect a zag.Some speculated Peltola would try the governor’s mansion instead, but her decision to challenge Sullivan stunned even veteran campaign watchers. He’s a two-term Republican and no political lightweight, counting on years of groundwork across rural and urban areas alike. Sullivan points to projects like the massive Alaska LNG pipeline—an 800-mile stretch of ambition that’s supposed to finally transform the state’s energy fortunes. The Senator is adamant that “Washington Democrats are no friends to Alaska,” taking aim at what he calls a tidal wave of Biden administration executive orders.Yet if you walk through the parking lot at Carrs or spend an evening at a Nome town hall, you’ll hear voters uttering the same refrains: groceries are draining paychecks, and jobs aren’t growing as promised. Peltola’s critique of “a rigged DC system,” while sharp, isn’t out of place at all.Alaska’s not just a red or blue state, though national media often miss that. Anchorage skews Democratic, but an hour’s drive north, the Mat-Su valley is planting new subdivisions and yard signs all along the Palmer-Wasilla highway, and they typically vote Republican. It makes winning statewide office a puzzle; name recognition is gold, which partly explains why Peltola’s a credible threat.Add another wild card—ranked-choice voting. Unlike the rest of the country, Alaskans rank their top picks rather than circle just one. This quirk delivered both surprise results and headaches for party insiders. Peltola won her House seat in 2022 in part thanks to Republicans splitting their votes. But there’s a live effort to repeal the system—ironically, it’ll still be in effect for the 2026 races regardless of the ballot measure’s outcome.On the trail, Peltola references the heyday of icons like Ted Stevens and Don Young. “They put Alaska first, above politics,” she reminds audiences, hinting at a time when the state’s congressional delegation could be counted on to buck their party. The subtext is clear: she wants to resurrect that bipartisan spirit.As for public mood, it’s not exactly easy to pin down—not least because Alaska’s polling is infrequent and prone to wild margins. But the numbers we do have suggest Sullivan’s popularity is in a bit of a dip; the same is true for Governor Dunleavy and Senator Murkowski. Perhaps more remarkable are the quiet rumblings in local politics—on Facebook groups, in smoke-stained coffee shops, and at community center fish fries, folks are more restless than usual.With national Democrats hungry to flip every possible Senate seat, Alaska’s contest is drawing money and eyes. At the same time, Republicans feel emboldened after Begich’s resurgence. They argue that, in a year where Trump won Alaska handily, history is still on their side. But Alaska’s politics are a bit like a Yukon river break-up: predictable, until suddenly they’re not.So, the stage is set. On one side, a Senator touting years of experience and ambitious infrastructure projects. On the other, a former Congresswoman leaning into discontent and Alaska’s tradition of independence. Whichever way it goes, this fight looks less like the nationalized showdowns elsewhere, and more like an old-school, often personal, Alaska contest—unpredictable to the end. As Peltola herself quipped, “If anyone’s going to set things right, it’s Alaskans.”With so much on the line—not only for one state, but the future balance of the U.S. Senate—it’s hard to predict the final tally. But one thing’s certain: even outsiders are watching, waiting to see just what kind of message Alaskans will deliver this time.