Where Are the Democrats? Why Ignoring the Assault on Higher Education Is a Strategic Mistake By Angela Valenzuela, Ph.D.

Where Are the Democrats? Why Ignoring the Assault on Higher Education Is a Strategic Mistake

by

Angela Valenzuela, Ph.D.

April 25, 2026

At a moment when Texas is rapidly remaking higher education, the question posed at a recent gathering at the University of Texas—“Where are the Democrats?”—should not be dismissed as rhetorical. It is a warning.

Over the past three years, Texas Republicans have not merely criticized universities; they have systematically restructured them. Through Senate Bill 17, diversity, equity, and inclusion efforts have been dismantled. Through Senate Bill 37, faculty governance has been weakened and authority shifted upward to politically appointed boards. Beyond legislation, we are now witnessing the installation of former lawmakers as university system chancellors, direct pressure campaigns on faculty and programs, and the quiet but consequential narrowing of curricula—particularly in Mexican American Studies and Ethnic Studies more broadly.

This is not episodic policymaking. It is coordinated governance.

And yet, as Lily Kepner, writing for the Austin American-Statesman reports, Democratic leadership has largely chosen to sideline higher education as a central political issue heading into the midterms, citing the press of “kitchen table” concerns like affordability and health care. The calculus is familiar: higher education is perceived as politically risky, too easily caricatured, and insufficiently resonant with voters. 

This is precisely the miscalculation.

Higher education is a kitchen table issue. It is where students decide whether they belong. It is where families encounter the rising costs of tuition and the shrinking availability of programs that reflect their histories. It is where future teachers, nurses, engineers, and civic leaders are formed. To wit, it provides access to all of the professions. 

And increasingly, it is where political actors—rather than professors who have devoted their lives and careers to scholarship and teaching—are deciding what can be taught, what can be researched, and what can be said.

To treat this as peripheral is to concede the terrain.

Republican leaders understand this well. Their messaging—casting universities as sites of “indoctrination”—has been paired with policy that transforms governance structures, disciplines faculty speech, and reorients curriculum. As one policy advocate bluntly stated, the work of “getting rid of stuff” is giving way to a new phase: building a reordered university. That includes proposals to center “Western civilization” in core curricula, monitor foreign influence, and further regulate academic standards.

In other words, the project is not simply subtractive. It is reconstructive.

Democrats who choose not to engage this arena are not avoiding risk; they are absorbing it. By ceding narrative control, they allow higher education to be defined by its critics while alienating students, faculty, and communities already mobilizing in defense of it. They also miss an opportunity to connect higher education policy to the very concerns they claim to prioritize. Affordability, workforce development, and democratic participation are all shaped—profoundly—by what happens on our campuses.

There is also a deeper issue at stake: democracy itself.

When faculty self-censor out of fear, when programs like Mexican American Studies are administratively weakened or eliminated, when governance is restructured to minimize dissent, the university ceases to function as a space of inquiry and becomes instead a managed environment. What we are witnessing is not simply policy change, but a redefinition of the public university’s role in a democratic society.

This is why the current moment demands more than quiet concern or behind-the-scenes conversations. It requires a clear, public, and sustained defense of higher education as a public good.

To be sure, Democrats face real constraints in Texas. They do not control the legislature, and they are navigating multiple urgent crises. But political limitation is not the same as political absence. Messaging, coalition-building, and agenda-setting remain powerful tools—even, and especially, in minority positions.

Indeed, we have seen glimpses of what this could look like: public statements in defense of students, testimony challenging vague restrictions on classroom speech, and convenings that center free expression. But these efforts remain fragmented, intermittent, and insufficient to match the scale of the transformation underway.

Meanwhile, the consequences are anything but abstract. Students report feeling unheard. Faculty describe narrowing their syllabi. Entire fields—especially those grounded in the histories and experiences of communities of color—face an uncertain future.

And still, the question lingers: Where are the Democrats?

If higher education continues to be treated as a secondary issue, the answer will become increasingly clear—not in press conferences or policy papers, but in the very structure of our universities.

By 2027, when the Texas Legislature reconvenes, the groundwork being laid today will shape what is politically possible tomorrow. The choice is not whether to engage, but whether engagement comes too late.

Because by then, the question may no longer be where the Democrats are.

It may be whether there is anything left to defend.

As Texas conservatives reshape higher ed, advocates ask: Where are the Democrats?

Going into the midterms, Texas Republicans say they have momentum to build conservative values in higher ed. Some advocates say Democrats aren’t doing enough.

By Lily Kepner,Staff WriterApril 22, 2026

American Federation of Teachers President Randi Weingarten, left, with Texas AFT President Zeph Capo,

 speaks at a news conference at the AFL-CIO in Austin on Tuesday, Jan. 6, 2026. Weingarten said in April

 that Democrats need to do more to address conservative reforms of higher education.

Jay Janner/Austin American-Statesman

Randi Weingarten could have chosen anywhere to launch the American Federation of Teachers’ plan to elevate higher education issues in the midterm elections. She chose the University of Texas.

Weingarten, the president of the national teachers' union, last week spoke before a crowd of about 100 people gathered to oppose threats to academic freedom and protect ethnic studies programs at higher education institutions.

At UT, President Jim Davis has promised to address conservative concerns that the university has let indoctrination replace inquiry by recommitting his institution to “balance” and civic education. The changes during Davis' first year in office — including the consolidation of gender and ethnic studies and leadership shakeups — have made some faculty fearful that UT is changing in response to political pressure, not input from students, staff or the public.

Get the latest UT news from Lily Kepner delivered straight to your inbox. Sign up for Inside UT.

At a time when Republicans are successfully reforming higher education, Democrats, Weingarten said, are not doing enough to stop them or to advocate for universities.

“We know where the Republicans stand,” Weingarten said. “We see this stripping out of people’s right to learn, right to teach, and we’re seeing the undermining of pluralism. And so part of my question — and I say this as a lifelong Democrat — is where are the Democrats? Where is the fight?”

Ahead of midterm elections, changes to higher education should be a central issue for Democrats, Weingarten said. But as conservatives are shaping Texas universities in their image, Democrats, experts say, can’t keep up — and may not benefit strategically from trying.

Michael Harris, dean of Southern Methodist University’s Simmons School of Education and Human Development and an expert in university behavior, said Republicans in Texas “without question,” have controlled the narrative around higher education for decades.

But how Texas conservative leaders have reshaped the state’s colleges and universities is unlikely to be a big factor in the midterm elections for Democrats given the success Republicans have already had and the other pressing national issues dominating the news, he said.

Kendall Scudder, chairman of the Texas Democratic Party, said that the party considers education access a “kitchen table issue” and is concerned about how political interference will impact educator retention. But Texas Democrats are limited in what they can message on as other issues like affordability or health care intensify, he said.

The party isn’t intentionally sidestepping higher education, but it is prioritizing other pressing concerns families face, he said.

“I understand this frustration from these organizations with us, I get it, but the challenge that Democrats are facing is that we’re drinking through a fire hose,” Scudder said. “Of course, these issues are important to us. I mean, we are the ones who created these institutions and invested in them in the first place, and that could be part of why Republicans are trying to tear them down.”

‘Now we can finally start’

As Democrats fight other battles, Republicans will want to center education in the midterms because their messaging works, said Cal Jillson, a politics professor at SMU.

“They’re running against universities as hotbeds of socialism,” Jillson said. “And that intimidates and frightens lots of parents.”

Republicans are also in a position of power to drive the debate around higher education in Texas, Harris said.

Since 2023, Texas Republican lawmakers — who hold a majority in the Texas Senate and House and every statewide seat — have banned diversity, equity and inclusion programs at universities, weakened tenure, curbed free speech and gutted faculty’s role in governing their schools.

This year, conservatives have secured non-legislative wins too, pressuring universities to fire professors and eliminate classes and departments targeted for being too liberal. Since the beginning of 2025, three former conservative lawmakers were named chancellors of state university systems, putting them in a position to further change how their universities operate.

Texas Tech University Chancellor Brandon Creighton is one of those newly

Sen. Brandon Creighton looks over paperwork with his staff at a Senate Committee on Education hearing.

Creighton now leads the Texas Tech University System as chancellor. He is one of several Republicans appointed to higher education leadership positions in 2026.

Ricardo B. Brazziell/American-Statesman

appointed conservative leaders. He authored major higher education reforms laws as a state senator and was critical of perceived indoctrination at universities. At a recent conference hosted by the conservative think tank Texas Public Policy Foundation, he told the audience that there was “garbage” in higher education curriculum that he and others had to root out.  

Glenn Hegar, the newly appointed chancellor of the Texas A&M University System is now overseeing a vast overhaul of how LGBTQ, gender and race topics are taught at all his system campuses.

Before 2027, when the Texas Legislature next meets for a regular session, Republicans are planning how to be more proactive around higher education policy.

“We’ve been getting rid of stuff in higher ed, and now finally we can actually start to pass things instead of clearing the way,” said Kate Bierly, higher education policy director for TPPF.

In an interview, Bierly said the think tank is planning future changes, including drafting legislation that would center Western civilization in core curriculum, curb foreign influence and target grade inflation.

‘An assault on public education’

Higher education is certainly not above reproach, according to the Pew Research Center, which found 70% of Americans believe higher education is heading in the wrong direction. Universities are to blame for the public’s lack of trust, a report from a specially appointed Yale University committee concluded this week.

The committee, charged with investigating public distrust in higher education, found that grade inflation, varied intellectual experience, political correctness, affordability challenges and investments into areas outside of a university’s core academic purpose detract from universities’ ability to build public trust and grow and produce knowledge.

“Both sides of the political aisle should be alarmed and even appalled at the lack of quality civic education that kids are getting at universities,” Bierly said in an interview before the report was released. She added that her organization’s suggested policies could gain bipartisan support.

But Weingarten said the Republican-controlled discourse discredits the good higher education already does and distracts from pressing issues like affordability and equal college access.

AFT’s policy blueprint for the midterms centers around broad issues with wide appeal, including regulating artificial intelligence and enhancing career education and innovation. The teachers’ union higher education platform also outwardly opposes the federal government’s “unprecedented campaign to control higher education” through research and program cuts that threaten the institutions, she said.


Weingarten said the policies are something either party could adopt to get higher education back on track. But Democrats aren’t engaging, she said, and in doing so, they’re leaving higher education behind.

Centering higher education’s value and adopting AFT’s platform before the midterms would be an unnecessary political risk for Democrats with little potential reward, Jillson, the political scientist, said.

Because of the Republican majority, “it is very difficult for Democrats in Texas to shape issue definition, let alone policy,” he said. With affordability issues and the declining trust in President Donald Trump’s leadership, Democrats, he said, “should play the hand that they hold right now.” They should focus on attacking Republican policies instead of trying to define new ones, Jillson said.

“Much of the public believes that there are issues and problems that need to be addressed and resolved. So you can’t just be a proponent of higher education as it currently exists without some danger,” said Jillson. “Certainly they don’t want to make it a midterm issue.”

That wasn’t always the case. Two years ago, Democrats often stood with students in opposition to Republican policies on college campuses. U.S. Rep. Greg Casar, D-Austin, visited UT with other Democrats the day after dozens of people were arrested at a pro-Palestinian protest. Texas Democrats also drafted statements and made public remarks opposing UT’s decision to fire staff after it adopted Senate Bill 17, a law banning diversity, equity and inclusion support for students.

At the AFT press conference last week, Casar, who is up for reelection, decried Texas’ “extremist politicians trying to control what gets taught in our classroom,” but left before questions. Colin Diersing, a spokesperson for Casar, declined to respond to criticism from AFT on Democrats’ lack of action or answer if Casar has reached out to Texas university leaders directly.

Still, some Texas Democrats are paying closer attention and weighing in on higher education changes in their own way. Last December, the Texas House Democratic Caucus held a virtual “People’s Caucus” on free speech in December to counter an official interim hearing focused on civil discourse after Charlie Kirk’s murder.

In November, Rep. Donna Howard, D-Austin, who is the vice chair of the House Higher Education Committee, testified against the UT System Board of Regents’ policy limiting how professors can discuss controversial topics. The lawmaker said she feared the policy would be too vague and could chill classroom debate. The board thanked her, but passed the policy regardless.

At the same press conference Casar spoke at, Howard said she has met privately with UT President Davis to share her concerns on academic freedom and pressure from conservatives and the federal government. She said she knows leaders may be “hesitant” to meet with a Democrat in this political climate.

“There is probably less communication going on than there should be and that I would like to see,” Howard said about the relationship between Democrats and university leaders. “The leadership of the institutions have been put in a very difficult position.”

UT did not respond to requests for comment.

On the windy march to the Texas Capitol where Weingarten launched AFT’s higher education policy platform, students, professors and community members chanted: “Save UT.”

Professors spoke of censoring themselves out of fear of retaliation if they said the wrong thing. Students spoke of their desire to be heard in university decisions impacting the classes and programs available to them.

“If you are fighting against the assaults on higher education and trying to make the case about how important it is to the next generation of students,” Weingarten said. “Why not go right to the place where the fight is?”


April 22, 2026

Lily Kepner
HIGHER EDUCATION REPORTER

Lily Kepner started at the American-Statesman in October 2023. She has appeared on BBC, NPR and Texas Standard to talk about her coverage, which has spanned the impact of state laws and politics on the University of Texas, pro-Palestinian protests, free speech, the anti-DEI ban, LGBTQ student belonging and more. Kepner graduated with honors from Boston University's College of Communication in 2023, where she received the college's highest awards for writing and journalism leadership and led the award-winning student newspaper as Editor-in-Chief. In her time with the American-Statesman, she contributed to reporting that won an Edward R Murrow Award for breaking news, won the School Bell Award for Outstanding Feature from Texas State Teachers Association, and Critics Choice for Best of Austin in the Austin Chronicle. Previously, she has been published in USA Today, The Boston Globe, The National Catholic Reporter and GBH. Kepner is passionate about accountability and service journalism and encourages anyone to reach out to her to tell their story or share a tip.

Paola Ramos explores her book 'Defectors' about right-wing Latino voters | Horizonte

Friends:

Paola Ramos—journalist, MSNBC correspondent, and daughter of Univision anchor Jorge Ramos—offers a timely and provocative reflection on Latino political identity in her book Defectors. Featured recently on Horizonte, Ramos explores why some Latinos are shifting rightward, challenging the tired notion that Latino voters are a unified, progressive bloc.

Through deeply personal storytelling, Ramos listens to voices often overlooked—Latinos who feel disillusioned, religiously driven, or culturally alienated from both parties. Her work doesn’t frame these shifts as betrayals but as expressions of agency shaped by history, geography, and belonging.

For educators, activists, and policy advocates, Defectors is a wake-up call for all to confront the ideological complexity within our communities—and most certainly, to not assume alignment.

Ramos reminds us that understanding doesn’t mean agreement. It means making space for hard truths and contradictions. In a moment of growing polarization, her call to listen—to really listen—couldn’t be more urgent.

Check out the great interview on Horizonte.

-Angela Valenzuela

Reference

Ramos, P. (2024). Defectors: The rise of the Latino far right and what it means for America. Pantheon.

Good political analysis of the fracturing of the Republican Party in Texas

This NY Times piece doesn't reflect well on our governor.

-Angela

Governor Struggles to Lead as Texas Republicans Splinter Into Factions

By MANNY FERNANDEZ and DAVID MONTGOMERY 

JUNE 5, 2017 / New York Times

 

He was the state’s first new governor in 14 years, following the record-breaking tenure of Rick Perry. He was the first governor to use a wheelchair, and the first lawyer turned governor in three decades. His wife, Cecilia, the granddaughter of Mexican immigrants, became the state’s first Hispanic first lady.

But none of that has defined his tenure more than his role as the first governor of Trump-era Texas, heading a Republican Party buffeted by gale-force winds from the right in a state far more chaotic, divided and unsteady than its Obama-era version.

By almost any measure, Mr. Abbott, 59, has been a staunchly conservative voice in Texas politics. But now he is struggling to steer the state through one of its most tumultuous political moments in decades, as Republican factions engage in open warfare.

Pro-business Republicans clashed with social conservatives. The State House clashed with the State Senate. The Texas Association of Business clashed with the Tea Party. White Republican lawmakers clashed with Hispanic Democratic legislators in the Capitol’s House chamber, cursing, shoving and threatening one another. And 28 months into his term, Mr. Abbott is facing a fundamental question: How conservative is conservative enough for the governor of a state that defines the right in America as much as California defines the left?

At least part of Mr. Abbott’s problem appears to be that he has yet to come up with an answer, allowing the cacophony of ideologies on the right and far right to answer for him.

“Why is he so hands-off?” asked Julie McCarty, the president of the Northeast Tarrant Tea Party in the Fort Worth area. “Is that what his dream was, to become governor of the greatest state in the nation so that he could sit out on everything?”

Mr. Abbott has faced challenges more daunting than reconciling feuding Republicans. Almost 33 years ago, in July 1984, when he was a 26-year-old law school graduate studying for the bar in Houston, he took a break to go for a jog with a friend. A large oak tree collapsed on his back, leaving him paralyzed below the waist and in need of a wheelchair for the rest of his life. He said that the accident had put the demands of his job in its proper context.

“It was actually just yesterday someone asked me, ‘How is it that you can stay so calm with everything going on in the Capitol?’” Mr. Abbott said during a recent interview. “And the answer is simple. And that is, when you have your life broken in half and realize that you’re going to be able to piece your life back together and overcome that, everything else in life is pretty easy to deal with.”

Still, few regard the current political climate in Texas as easy.

Mr. Abbott not only had trouble getting the Republicans who run Texas on the same page, he also had a hard time just getting them together for breakfast. Relations between two top Republicans — the arch-conservative lieutenant governor, Dan Patrick, and the moderate House speaker, Joe Straus III — soured to the point that the final series of weekly breakfasts held by the most powerful officials in the state was quietly canceled, a temporary fizzling-out of a decades-old tradition.

Internal party disputes between establishment Republicans and social conservatives are nothing new to Texas, and became more pronounced after the Tea Party-backed rise of Senator Ted Cruz. But now, the hostility and the stakes are significantly higher. The bitter public feud between Mr. Patrick and Mr. Straus over Mr. Patrick’s push to pass bathroom restrictions, like those in North Carolina, for transgender people led to a legislative stalemate that put the operation of some state agencies in limbo.

Mr. Abbott has been criticized from all sides — for both pushing Texas too far to the far right and for not pushing it far enough, and for adopting a less-is-more management style at a time of political turmoil.

Photo

Lt. Gov. Dan Patrick of Texas in the State Senate in 

Austin last month. Governor Abbott is fighting perceptions 

that Mr. Patrick calls the shots. Credit Eric Gay/Associated Press

Social conservatives say Mr. Abbott has been disengaged in their battles, including the effort to pass a bathroom bill. Moderate Republicans say he has capitulated to the far right. Democrats and Hispanic groups say the bill he signed banning so-called sanctuary cities was unconstitutional and anti-Latino. And he has been fighting a public perception that Mr. Patrick — the firebrand conservative who was the Texas chairman of President Trump’s campaign — calls the shots in Austin.

“I don’t think Patrick’s in charge, but I think he has seized the microphone,” said Harvey Kronberg, the publisher of The Quorum Report, an online Texas political journal. “There’s no sense of coordination coming out of the governor’s office, so it’s left a vacuum that we haven’t seen since the days of Ann Richards, who became isolated for a variety of reasons. Abbott has not learned how to exercise his power.”

In the coming days, Mr. Abbott faces a crucial test.

The legislative session ended on Memorial Day, but Mr. Abbott will decide whether to call lawmakers back for a special session, something only the governor has the authority to do. Mr. Patrick has called on Mr. Abbott to put a bathroom bill on the agenda. If Mr. Abbott does not, he will upset Mr. Patrick and Mr. Patrick’s far-right supporters. If he does, he will please social conservatives but play into the narrative that he is, in effect, following the lead of Mr. Patrick.

It was Mr. Patrick, gavel in hand, who appeared on the February cover of Texas Monthly, which called him “the most influential person in Texas politics.”

Then, in late April, Michael Quinn Sullivan, a conservative leader, sent an email to supporters at 4:20 a.m., longing for the days of Mr. Perry and writing “Where’s the Governor?” in the subject line. Weeks later, in The Lubbock Avalanche-Journal, Jay Leeson, a columnist and talk-radio co-host, quoted an unnamed Republican lawmaker who said the state was being “run by Governor Hodge,” a reference to Mr. Abbott’s chief of staff, Daniel Hodge.

Mr. Abbott shows no sign of being either under pressure or under attack. In the interview in his office on the second-floor of the Capitol, he was at ease and engaging, and he expressed confidence in his steady hand at the helm of the country’s second-most-populous state. The only indication of turmoil came from the wall-size painting of the siege of the Alamo to his right.

Asked about the political chatter that he was bothered by the Texas Monthly cover, Mr. Abbott replied, “With all due respect, with regard to any media story, I could care less.” He added, “My focus is on the people of Texas, and I could care less what any story writes.”

But whether he or Mr. Patrick is calling the shots, the constituency they are courting is all on the right.

“The body politic has become more conservative,” Mr. Abbott said. “I have been in politics as an elected official since 1992, so I’ve been familiar with the body politic, with the people of the state of Texas at the ground level, for decades now. And it’s very palpable that the people in the state of Texas are more conservative than they were decades ago when I first got elected, and the conservatives are more organized.”

Mr. Abbott’s behind-the-scenes work ethic is the stuff of legend.

He read every bill sent to his desk in the 2015 legislative session — all 1,300 of them. Last year, he suffered third-degree burns on his feet and shin from a hot shower while vacationing in Wyoming, but he rushed to Dallas, in pain and against the advice of doctors, after a gunman there had killed five police officers at a demonstration. About 20 hours after being burned in Wyoming, he attended a news conference in Dallas with local officials.

But his tendency to pull away from the spotlight has worked against him, too. Mr. Abbott made a remark at a gun range in Austin last month that some interpreted as a joke about shooting reporters. In fact, he seemed to be indicating that his bullet-ridden target was proof of his good aim, and that he would carry the target around to show any skeptical reporters. But he never clarified what he meant or commented about it publicly, allowing a misperception that he is hostile to reporters to thrive on social media.

Another perception that lingers in Austin is that Mr. Patrick plans to run against Mr. Abbott in 2018. Mr. Patrick and those close to him have repeatedly denied the rumors, but the speculation persists that Mr. Patrick is more a rival to Mr. Abbott than a colleague.

Mr. Abbott said he had a positive working relationship with Mr. Patrick and shared many of his views, but dismissed any notion that Mr. Patrick was setting the agenda in Texas.

“The governor’s job is far bigger than just a legislative session,” Mr. Abbott said. “Most of my time is devoted to being the C.E.O. of Texas, not being involved in a legislative session.”

Is there room for principle in today’s GOP?

Rove liked fuzzy standards, because if we had high ones students wouldn’t measure up, and that would hurt the George W. Bush presidential machine. The education community likes low standards, because it’s easier to get more taxes out of the public when they think the system does a good job." Suggests how the agenda of the business right concurs with that of centrist education groups. Something to think about. -Angela

Interesting quote: "Is there room for principle in today’s GOP?
by William Lutz / Special to East Texas Review

When I first started following Texas politics closely, back in 1991 as a college student, the Republican Party stood for something — lower taxes, property rights, moral values, honest representation, accountable government.

Sure, some lawmakers were better than others, but the party’s elected officials were free to vote their consciences and their districts.

When I came to work for LSR a few years later, the party had been Roved.

Elected officials were no longer free to do what they thought was best. Some disagreement was tolerated behind closed doors, but in public the Rove machine encouraged GOP elected officials to act like mindless Bush automatons. Violators were dealt with harshly. The machine’s priorities were the presidential parade first, power politics second, and principle — at best — a distant third.

Things are different now. Karl Rove has left the world of political consulting. Most conservatives nationally have finally recognized his machine for what it is — or was. Many of his key lieutenants, such as Al Gonzales, have had to leave public service under a cloud of scandal.

Looking at the state GOP right now, I have one question: Is there room once more for principle in the Texas Republican party?

Education provides perhaps the best example of what Rove did to the Texas GOP. Rove knew voters in swing states wanted to see a president who “cared” about education and could produce results. But actually improving the public schools measurably is a complex process that takes time and requires challenging established special interests that have government-funded lobbyists and a loud public relations machine.

So Rove created an illusion.

Rove and Commissioner of Education Mike Moses made sure the new curriculum standards were vague, repetitive, and difficult to measure. Rove liked fuzzy standards, because if we had high ones students wouldn’t measure up, and that would hurt the George W. Bush presidential machine. The education community likes low standards, because it’s easier to get more taxes out of the public when they think the system does a good job.

Once vague standards were in place, Rove and Moses could ensure that the state’s test — the Texas Assessment of Academic Skills (TAAS) was ridiculously easy. That ensured large numbers of students would pass the test, which Rove, his allies in the Legislature, and his allies in Washington, D.C., touted as “the Texas miracle.”

Of course, Texas still has a problem with dropout rates and the passing rate on college entrance exams, but Rove could spin that into oblivion.

These policies put Rove on a collision course with the real reformers in Texas education — conservative members of the State Board of Education (SBOE). One of them, Richard Neill, helped expose what a joke the TAAS was. After the cat got out of the bag, Moses and Rove agreed to changes — that took effect after Bush had left the governor’s mansion.

Rove tried everything to shut these folks down. He got major donors to make phone calls. SBOE conservatives were lampooned in the press. Conservative Bob Offutt was the target of several unfair and mean-sprited mailers sent by a shady outfit called Americans for Job Security — which does not disclose the identity of its donors — after Offutt went to New Hampshire to tell the truth about the Bush machine.

Fortunately for Texas, the State Board of Education still has many conservatives, working hard to improve Texas public schools. In fact, right now, they are leading the charge to undo Rove’s damage and create English standards that actually work for Texans — standards based on phonics and grammar, not spin and public relations.

The bad news for Rove is, the rest of the country finally caught on to his act. Americans don’t want a party that won’t cut spending, supports illegal immigration, is obsessed with spin, panders to special interests, and is devoid of principle.

Rove justified his support for illegal immigration, claiming it would help the party appeal to Hispanics and prosper in the face of changing demographics.

But what’s really going on here is many of the businesses that fund the Bush political machine make money off cheap, exploitable illegal labor.

The real problem Texas Republicans face is much more immediate than the long-term demographic changes painstakingly chronicled in the press. Republicans are in danger of losing the confidence of the party’s middle class and rural base.

Look where Republicans lost Texas House seats last year — North Dallas, Southwest and Northwest Austin, Arlington, West Houston. They lost in the suburbs.

Suburban voters want a party that addresses their concerns — a party that is honest and ethical and puts public service above spin, fundraising, and power politics.

There are two types of statewide power players in today’s GOP — those who see a place for principle and those who don’t.

But it’s also true that some of the rising stars in the GOP really do want to put public service first.

The GOP’s survival may well depend on the top brass’ letting these new stars shine, and leaving Rove’s brand of politics in the past, where it belongs.

http://www.easttexasreview.com/story.htm?StoryID=4806&now=45427

A Fish Rots from the Head: With these three in charge, the session was a stinker

Very interesting analysis of the 2007 legislative session. -Angela

A Fish Rots from the Head: With these three in charge, the session was a stinker
by Jake Bernstein / June 15, 2007

When all was said and little done, the gavels dropped, and adjournment let lawmakers escape from the political implosion that was the 80th Legislature. Like high schoolers who had just blown up the science lab, Texas’ three leaders stood dazed and giddy at having survived.
Gov. Rick Perry, Lt. Gov. David Dewhurst, and House Speaker Tom Craddick entered the session with grand ambitions. Looking to fortify his legacy as the state’s longest-serving governor, Perry seemed to have his eye on the history books or national office. Dewhurst was eyeing Perry’s job and wanted a legislative portfolio to undergird an expected gubernatorial bid in 2010. Craddick’s sights, as always, were fixed on the exhilarating exercise of raw power and the rewards it brings to friends and supporters.

What’s remarkable is how quickly it all fell apart. As leadership dissipated, chaos rushed in to fill the vacuum.

PERRY’S SELF-INFLICTED PREDICAMENT
The governor seems to have awakened to this year’s session in a fit of hubris. Few saw it coming. After all, if ever a situation called for humility, it was Perry’s. He had barely squeaked to re-election, winning as the least unpopular choice in a crowded field. Before the session, he had infuriated parts of the electorate by trying to speed up state approval of 11 coal-fired power plants, and to ram through his sweeping plans for superhighways and toll roads. Legislators were wary of Perry’s agenda from the day they arrived.

Nonetheless, in January, he issued an executive order requiring that Texas girls be vaccinated against a cause of cervical cancer, human papillomavirus, before entering sixth grade. The unprecedented mandate made headlines across the country. More significantly, it startled Republican legislators who might have been Perry’s allies had he bothered to give them advance notice. Then Perry proposed selling the state’s lottery to a private company, using the cash to make Texas the nation’s unrivaled leader in cancer research.

Backlash against the HPV vaccine mandate was swift. Conservatives in and out of the Legislature argued vaccination would encourage promiscuity. They complained that government was usurping an important decision rightly belonging to parents. More cynical critics saw evidence of pay-for-play: Merck & Co., the only maker of HPV vaccine, stood to make millions from Perry’s mandate. One of the company’s lobbyists was Mike Toomey, Perry’s former chief of staff.

To many, Perry’s failure to seek legislative input was more offensive than the HPV order. Questions about a governor’s authority to issue such a mandate led to an informal ruling by Attorney General Greg Abbott, who said Perry’s order had no legal weight. (Abbott’s reasoning also threatened to undercut a previous Perry order fast-tracking state permits for the 11 new coal plants.)

Angleton Republican Rep. Dennis Bonnen quickly introduced House Bill 1098, which not only overturned Perry’s HPV executive order, but also prohibited state agencies from requiring the vaccine for school enrollment. When the bill was heard in committee, opponents attacked the science behind the vaccine, arguing its safety was suspect and testing incomplete. Rep. Jessica Farrar, a Houston Democrat who agreed with Perry on the vaccine’s merit, called it a “campaign of misinformation.”

Perry turned to public relations, bringing in a woman with terminal cervical cancer for press briefings and photo opportunities. But Bonnen’s bill passed early enough in the session that lawmakers had time to overturn a potential Perry veto. The governor harshly criticized legislators and announced that he would let the bill become law without his signature. Debate on the merits of Perry’s idea, Farrar observed, got lost amid his ill-conceived tactics. “It was the first time I’ve seen him abuse his power to do good for somebody,” she said.

Perry’s notion of selling the lottery sank almost as quickly as it surfaced. But lawmakers did agree to let voters decide in November if they want to issue $3 billion in bonds to fund the Cancer Prevention and Research Institute of Texas. Another Perry priority—capping increases in property tax appraisals—met a similar fate, which rankled many longtime GOP members, including Tom Pauken, the former state party chair who headed a task force Perry appointed to gin up the plan. “The Republicans have squandered a majority,” Pauken told the Houston Chronicle. “We could have gotten a lot more done if we’d had strong Republican leadership. We’ve got to quit simply saluting because they are Republicans.”

By midsession, Perry had begun to turn his situation around. Capitol wags agree that most of the credit goes to a Democrat—Perry’s legislative director, former Victoria Sen. Ken Armbrister. Despite overwhelming support for a toll road moratorium, the governor emerged with a compromise that did little damage to his vision of privatized roadways. While an ambitious homeland security agenda foundered, Perry managed to expand his authority in this area as well. After he threatened to veto the entire higher education budget, legislators coughed up $100 million in incentive funds for colleges and $145 million more for financial aid.

“The last 140 days reminded me of watching an old Clint Eastwood movie. It was a session that featured the good, the bad, and the ugly,” Perry told reporters at session’s end without a hint of irony. “If Texans have a bad taste in their mouth from the session, I would say that I couldn’t blame them. Not because progress wasn’t made, but because there was way too much acrimony.”

At press time, Perry had 12 days to use his veto pen. There is still time for a little more acrimony.

DITHERING DEWHURST
Remarkably, among the cognoscente Lt. Gov. Dewhurst is known for his ability to master policy. His political ineptitude often obscures this talent. This session will be remembered as the one in which Dewhurst’s political instincts trumped all else—with disastrous results.

Dewhurst ran the Senate like a man about to hit the campaign trail. Senators groused that the agenda, which catered almost exclusively to Republican primary voters, was driven by polls rather than policy. How else to explain Dewhurst’s focus on child predators and voter fraud? The lieutenant governor forced votes on issues the senators would have happily avoided. What made it worse, some said, was that it’s probably all for naught. Many assume U.S. Senator Kay Bailey Hutchison will join the race for governor in 2010 and obliterate Dewhurst in the primary.

Dewhurst pushed something he calls his “Texas Children First” program. If you think that means investing in worthwhile initiatives like the Children’s Health Insurance Program, you’re mistaken. Dewhurst spent most of the session resisting a proposal that would allow kids to stay on CHIP for a year instead of having to renew every six months. He focused on steroid testing for high school athletes, better access to defibrillators in schools, criminal background checks for school workers, and the death penalty for violent child predators. Those all passed, though it wasn’t always pretty. The sentence enhancement for child predators, known as Jessica’s law, was rushed through the House with “emergency” status from the governor. Then it sat for months while Dewhurst petulantly refused to address concerns of senators and even prosecutors. He eventually agreed to changes, and the bill was approved unanimously.

Requiring voters to show photo IDs at the polls wasn’t one of Dewhurst’s initial goals, but the GOP is vertically integrated, and Karl Rove, at the top of the pyramid, has made voter fraud a priority. Democrats had just enough votes to block the bill in the Senate, but one of them happened to be deathly ill. Dewhurst’s threat to bring the bill up kept Houston Democratic Sen. Mario Gallegos on the Senate floor against his doctor’s orders.

The lieutenant governor saw his chance when San Antonio Democratic Sen. Carlos Uresti missed a morning roll call because he was home sick with the flu. Then Dewhurst bungled the opportunity. He called the vote without all Republicans present. Short one, he tried to invalidate the vote of Houston Democratic Sen. John Whitmire, the Senate’s longest-serving member, on a technicality. Finally, he caved and allowed a second vote, but let senators stall long enough for Uresti to rush to the chamber and restore the stalemate.

The next day, Dewhurst’s office released an angry letter calling Senate Democrats un-American and saying Whitmire “tried to make himself a victim.” Dewhurst then insisted he hadn’t authorized the letter and that a staffer had written it. The Senate took a day off so they could caucus privately. Members sent three delegates to Dewhurst’s office for an airing of grievances.

For the next week or so, the lieutenant governor avoided the dais in the Senate chamber. In a meeting with reporters after the session, Dewhurst claimed victory for everything positive that came out of it. But with a pained look on his face, he carefully explained that he’d just “rather not get into” the voter ID debacle. Freshman Republican Sen. Dan Patrick, the conservative Houston radio host who also might challenge Dewhurst for the governorship in 2010, was less reserved. “If you’re going to run a play, you’d better make sure you run it right,” he told the Observer. “We’re the ones in charge. We have no excuses.”


CONTROLLING CRADDICK’S CRASHES
Even in the best of times, Speaker Craddick looks uncomfortable: reserved, shoulders rounded, at most a thin, impermanent smile traced across his face. But in the last hours of this legislative session, Craddick was downright joyful, sporting a broad, lopsided grin as he backslapped and joked the final minutes away. A near-death experience will do that.

At the beginning of the session in January, Craddick may well have thought the unpleasantness was over after he survived the first floor challenge to a sitting speaker in 40 years. Few in Texas are as adept as he at the insider game of politics. Craddick skillfully divided the opposition, in all likelihood seeding it with at least one double agent, while winning the allegiance of an unlikely group of mostly minority Democrats. With a slim majority in place, a somewhat contrite Craddick then promised members he had heard their complaints and would do better in this, his third session.

“It’s hard for a leopard to change his spots,” said Houston Democratic Rep. Senfronia Thompson at the time.

Remarkably for an institution that produces so much bad policy, the main complaints against Craddick were about process. Under past speakers, controversial legislation that could become campaign fodder was handled in committee to avoid potentially damaging floor votes. Committee chairs were given a fair amount of leeway to run their committees and reach consensus. The knock against Craddick was that he holds too tight a leash, often on behalf of special interests, limiting what his chairs can do and forcing members to take bad votes. The result was that policy was created, even entire bills written, on the House floor. It was here that the speaker ruled with absolute authority, at times through a capricious interpretation of the rules. Craddick didn’t change his modus operandi much during the session. When it started to fall apart is hard to pinpoint. An event in early May seems to have been key. One way that Craddick controlled the chamber, and punished enemies, was by deciding which bills could be heard for a vote. Since he had many enemies this session, a number of them couldn’t get their local bills onto the calendar. Local bills matter most to constituents. For this reason, when a local bill of a Craddick lieutenant, Rio Grande City Democrat Ryan Guillen, received special treatment by jumping ahead on the calendar, many members were upset. Thompson raised a point of order that the bill’s appearance on the calendar violated House rules. The speaker overruled her. Then something happened that hadn’t occurred since 1973. Craddick’s ruling was challenged, and after much discussion, a vote of the House overturned it. Suddenly, Craddick looked vulnerable again. The insurgency rebounded.

Removing Craddick depended on the Republicans. Democrats could deliver a bloc of votes, but not enough to elect one of their own. Republicans who wanted Craddick gone faced the same problems they had in January. Each of the rebellion’s leaders wanted to be speaker, so no consensus candidate emerged. And they couldn’t trust each other. Some on the team seemed to waver between the two sides.

This uneasy status quo might have continued until the end if not for a question asked of the speaker on the Friday before the end of session. The insurgents had speculated on how a sitting speaker could be removed. Euless Republican Rep. Todd Smith asked Parliamentarian Denise Davis whether Craddick would have to recognize a member for a motion to vacate the chair. Davis apparently told him that while Craddick didn’t have to recognize, the ruling could be appealed. Enough confusion remained that Waco Democrat Rep. Jim Dunnam, head of the House Democratic Caucus, decided to ask the speaker himself from the back microphone of the chamber.

Dunnam posed a parliamentary inquiry on whether he or someone would be recognized on a motion to vacate the chair. At this point, Craddick could have said he would not rule until the motion was made, and that would have been the end of it. The insurgents probably didn’t have the votes, and the challenge would have likely fizzled. Instead, Craddick responded no. Dunnam then asked whether that ruling could be appealed. Craddick again responded no. The answer sent shock waves through the chamber. Craddick—ruling against his own parliamentarian—was saying there was no way he could be deposed during the session. It was an incredible demonstration of raw power and steely resolve.

Parliamentarian Davis and her deputy promptly quit. Craddick took a hurried recess as they were escorted from the building. The speaker returned hours later with two new parliamentarians—former Reps. Terry Keel and Ron Wilson—who had been privately advising him for at least a week. The rest of the session was akin to a mouse in a box sniffing out each side to determine the shape of its confinement. As it became clear that the box was solid, the antics of the insurgents grew more theatrical, culminating on the session’s last Sunday night with an aborted roll call to remove Craddick, and then an impromptu walkout.

While Craddick survived, it may have been a Pyrrhic victory. Even his stalwarts doubt he will be re-elected in 2009. The only way to change that dynamic would be to elect new, Craddick-friendly members to the House. This will make for an interesting election cycle.

David Pasztor, Matt Wright, and Patrick Michels also contributed to this report.

http://www.texasobserver.org/article.php?aid=2519