As a native Texan, I am beyond thrilled by the election results. It was a night for the history books. All the statewide offices were won by Democrats–Lieutenant Governor, Attorney General, Comptroller, and “Railroad Commissioner” (who regulates the powerful oil and gas industry).

No Democrat had been elected to the U.S. Senate since 1988. No Democrat had won a statewide office since 1994. The gerrymander that Trump asked for and got was washed away in a tide of blue. Four of the five gerrymandered Congressional districts–designed to be safe Republican seats–were captured by Democrats. The races that were supposed to be close–for US Senate and for Governor–were total blowouts. The only unknown is whether one or both houses of the legislature remain in Republican hands.

Forrest Wilder of Texas Monthly has the story:

I’ve covered every election in Texas since 2006. Tuesday night’s results are, by far, the most shocking I’ve ever seen. For my whole adult life, the script has been more or less the same for Texas elections: Republicans win, Democrats lose. In recent years, the story has been about the GOP civil war: the far right winning and the Republican establishment retreating in defeat. The governance story was also predictable: Those in power did what they wanted and everyone else suffered what they must. That timeworn script was ripped up in just a few hours. 

A good night for Democrats was certainly indicated by the usual metrics—polling, prediction markets, reporting, and vibes. I thought Talarico would win by a few percentage points. But I’m not sure anyone was prepared for the alternative universe we’ve just entered. Texas went to bed as a red state—the red state. Wednesday morning, it will wake up as something very, very different. 

Republicans are on track to lose every statewide race. Governor Greg Abbott, a fundraising juggernaut who was on the verge of becoming the longest-serving governor? Trounced by state representative Gina Hinojosa. Ken Paxton, who seemed to possess some kind of superpower? Devastated by James Talarico, now an instant superstar and presidential contender. Mayes Middleton, who insisted on calling himself “MAGA” Mayes? Whupped by Dallas state senator Nathan Johnson, a virtual unknown. Lieutenant Governor Dan Patrick, one of the most adept politicians in modern Texas history? Humiliated by Austin-based state representative Vikki Goodwin, who barely had a profile in her hometown. Openly racist edgelord Bo French? Beaten by Jon Rosenthal. Democrats seem to be on track to flip all four of the Texas Supreme Court seats up for grabs, dramatically changing the balance of power on Texas’s highest civil court. As of right now, it looks like Democrats may have a majority in the Texas House for the first time since 2002. In short, they won everywhere.  

Democrats ran up the score in the big urban counties. They flipped longtime red suburban counties, including Denton and Collin (Paxton’s home county) and Brazoria. They ran riot through heavily Hispanic areas that Trump had flipped in 2024. Just as one example, Starr County—96 percent Hispanic—went from voting for a Republican for the first time since 1892, when they gave Trump 57 percent of the vote, to giving Talarico more than 75 percent of the vote. Paxton and Abbott and the other statewide candidates begged for rural Texas to turn out. But even in rural counties, Democrats did better than they normally do. The red wall was breached quite handily. Shit, they even won Brazos County in the heart of Aggieland.

Trump ordered up an aggressive gerrymander, to try to give the GOP five more winnable seats. But the dummymander seems to have gone bust. They tried to stimulate the lizard brains of voters, fearmongering about Muslims. But that tack fell flat. The richest man in the world, Elon Musk, wasted an ocean of cash—at least $212 million—trying to salvage Paxton. Now, he’s talking about taking his data centers to space.

It seems like Texans went into the voting booth with a vengeance, voting against anyone with an R next to their names. Let’s not take anything away from the winners. Talarico was a very strong candidate—charismatic, disciplined, an excellent fundraiser who had few, if any, major errors. Hinojosa, too, surprised a lot of observers with her creative attacks on Abbott. She was vastly outspent, but managed to land blows on Abbott over data centers, private school vouchers, and the cloud of corruption that seems to be parked over the Governor’s Mansion. But it’s also probably the case that just about any Democrat would’ve won in this environment. Trump was deeply unpopular in Texas—his approval rating was underwater by about twenty percentage points. There was a blue tsunami that swept over much of the nation, and Texas was part of it.

And yet, there likely were Texas-specific factors, too. Paxton and Hinojosa ran on an anti-corruption platform. They told a story about Texas: that the ruling political class had sold the state out to billionaires. Facts were not hard to marshal to drive the message home. Abbott’s signature policy during his twelve years as governor was private-school vouchers, which seemed to have little popular support but was a pet project of various billionaires, including Pennsylvania’s Jeff Yass, who gave Abbott at least $12 million. And just in the closing days of his campaign, Texas Monthly reported that Abbott’s Texas Parks and Wildlife Commission had discussed selling Boca Chica State Park to Musk. There were the data centers that Abbott welcomed with open arms, and the 765-kV transmission lines. And what more can be said about Ken Paxton? Corrupt, unethical, swagless. In retrospect, the question is, how did this man stay in power for so long? 

It will take some time to adjust to the new reality. The basic set of assumptions that have been operative in Texas for decades are now called into question. One is tempted to say one-party rule is over. Yet, somehow we’ve entered a new era of one-party rule. Regardless of your political persuasion, did you ever expect to see Democrats winning races in Texas from top to bottom in 2026? The parlor question—”when will Texas turn blue?”—had long ago become a cliche, a sick joke. And yet here we are.