As I wrote after the regular session ended, it’s important to be clear about what’s happening here: Without exaggeration, we’re witnessing the spearpoint of American fascism piercing the body politic in Texas. One is not proving Godwin’s Law by observing this, it’s just a fact.
Abortion laws based on mass snitching regimens that read like something out of The Handmaid’s Tale. Gun statutes that appear to have been authored by Yosemite Sam. More border wall building, this time with DPS troopers making petty arrests for trespassing and mass magistrations being held in county-jail parking lots. Making the bail system harder on poor people. Homelessness rendered a crime. High spending levels for police mandated. Dozens and dozens of new crimes (including a first-degree felony for doctors performing unauthorized abortions). And everything including new voting restrictions done in a highly partisan, often retaliatory fashion.
Republicans were angry and much of what passed this year was done to punish their opposition for daring challenge them in swing districts or publicly talk about negative impacts from their policies.
Grits largely blames the Governor and Dan Patrick. Speaker Dade Phelan appeared well-intentioned, but the rookie Speaker was steamrolled by the other two and, in the end, was afraid to exercise his power in ways that would displease either of them.
As the poet long ago lamented, the best lacked all conviction while the worst were full of passionate intensity.
At the state level, it’s only going to get worse before it gets better. The only way to stop what’s happening is for Republicans to pay an electoral price. That can’t happen until November 2022, and conventional wisdom says it won’t, even then.
Republicans should be vulnerable, having utterly vacated the political center, but Democrats have so far fielded no credible candidates to challenge them, and proved with their failure to hold their quorum break that the party is devoid not just of strategic thinking but fundamentally of an identity as a coherent group. Republicans are united around a dystopic, right-wing ideology that is unworkable and harmful but at least consistent. The Democratic field brings to mind Will Rogers’ observation more than a century ago: “I belong to no organized political party: I’m a Democrat.”
At the local level, there are more opportunities. A lot of the energy from protests last year continues to animate less high-profile but still significant changes, particularly surrounding mental-health first response and addiction. Local groups are beginning to focus on police contracts, which by their nature are long-term fights that may not see results for many years, but which alter the terms of debate locally. And shifting the culture of policing is still on the table in a variety of ways.
None of this will happen quickly. But we can already see a desire to divert people out of the local jails during COVID, especially when their problem is primarily mental health, housing or addiction, starting to align with those trying to get police out of the social-services business. Where those collaborations flower, local work can produce big changes for people in the real world, even in the current political climate. That’s where the criminal-justice reform movement should focus now. Unless and until statewide Republicans – particularly Abbott and Patrick – lose at the ballot box, there’s nothing to do at the state level anymore but play defense against the bad stuff.