In Texas, the 2026 midterm election is a fight between two poorly understood brands of religion filtered through the oil business.
Texas is a solidly red state. In 2024, Donald Trump won the state by 13.7 points. In 2022, Republican Gov. Greg Abbott beat Democrat Beto O-Rourke by 11 points. A survey based on voting history reveals 56.1% of the Texas electorate is “likely Republican,” while 43.8% is likely Democrat.
It isn’t always that close, of course. In 2018, Ted Cruz squeaked past O’Rourke by less than three points, and in 2022, Democrat Mike Collier came within five points of beating Lt. Gov. Dan Patrick. But in Texas, Lucy is always holding the football. Even when the polls are tight, progressive hopes have been repeatedly dashed. No Democrat has won a statewide race in Texas since 1994.
The five largest cities in Texas are either solidly Democratic (Dallas, Houston, Austin and San Antonio), or at least competitive (Fort Worth). But the suburbs and exurbs lean Republican, and the great rural expanse of Texas is washed-in-the-blood red. Many Texas counties have no organized Democratic presence whatsoever.
But there are indications change is afoot. Polls show Democrat James Talarico either neck-and-neck with Ken Paxton or a few points ahead. No poll ever had Beto Orourke ahead of Ted Cruz, and Beto almost pulled off the upset.
Although the U.S. Senate race has consumed the lion’s share of media attention, Democrat Gina Hinojosa is nipping at Gov. Greg Abbott’s heels. Some polls have Abbott a few points ahead, others have the race tied.
Bo French and the Christian nationalist capture of the Texas GOP
If Texas Republicans had renominated John Cornyn, they might not be in this pickle. But the Texas GOP is dominated by evangelical Christians, a demographic that likes its meat red and raw.
Paxton didn’t just ease past Cornyn in the primary election; it was an utter massacre.
And then there is Bo French. As I write, the Republican candidate to head the Texas Railroad Commission holds a slim two-point lead over Democrat Jon Rosenthal. Despite its name, the Railroad Commission regulates the state’s oil, natural gas, pipeline and mining industries. In oil-rich Texas, it’s a power position. In 2020, Republican James Wright won the Railroad Commission race by 10 points. But this year, Wright lost to Bo French in the primary.
French was cruising under the radar until he posted a photo of University of Texas fans celebrating their miraculous comeback against Ohio State. Everyone in the photo was dressed in burnt orange T-shirts, many sported cowboy hats, and hook ’em horns signs were ubiquitous. All that mattered to French, however, was that many of the revelers appeared to be of East Indian or Pakistani extraction.
“I heard UT graduation this year looked like this,” French commented. “I didn’t believe it. The problem is now obviously far worse than anyone imagined.”
In case some people didn’t get the message, French quickly followed up with a post asking, “How many Americans have been displaced by foreigners?”
Critics pointed out the vast majority of these students were born and raised right here in the Lone Star State, adding that the fans in the picture were obviously fully assimilated to Texas culture.
French didn’t care about any of that. In his mind, Texas was founded by white people, for white people, and everyone else is, by definition, a “foreigner.” French has called for the arrest and public execution of prominent Democrats like Barack Obama and has repeatedly called for the immediate deportation of 100 million American residents. French has asked his followers whether Jews or Muslims pose the greatest threat to America. And he identifies as a proud “Islamophobe” because he fears Muslims are poised to seize control of Texas political life.
Republicans win statewide elections in Texas because independents vote like Republicans. But will that trend continue now that Texas Republicans have swapped small-government conservatism for a blend of Christian nationalism and MAGA zealotry?
With Trump’s popularity at 36% in the Lone Star State, anything is possible.
Two brands of ethics
Paxton has endeared himself to the MAGA movement by supporting Trump’s attempt to overturn the results of the 2020 election and by suing Democratic presidents at every turn. But it is Paxton’s gross ethical lapses that dominate the headlines.
I don’t need to tell you that he is a serial adulterer or that he was indicted for recruiting his friends to invest $840,000 in a financial venture without telling them he was taking a commission. If you live in Texas, you already know.
“The allegations were so substantial that 72% of Paxton’s Republican peers voted for his impeachment.”
Although the salary for Texas attorney general is $153,000 per year, Paxton has amassed a fortune of at least $13 million and owns 15 properties. After his own staff blew the whistle on his corrupt dealing, 20 articles of impeachment were filed in the Texas House. The allegations were so substantial that 72% of Paxton’s Republican peers voted for his impeachment.
By contrast, Paxton’s Democratic opponent, James Talarico, taught school in one of San Antonio’s poorest neighborhoods before running for the Texas State House. During his Senate run, he is on leave from master of divinity studies at Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary. Talarico is such an effective communicator that Paxton has thus far refused to debate him.
It is estimated that, by Nov. 3, $440 million will have been invested in the Paxton-Talarico race. That’s double the previous record for a Texas U.S. Senate race. Since Paxton can’t be painted as a paragon of rectitude, the argument from the Republican side is that Talarico is demonic; that is, he is literally in league with the Evil One.

James Talarico, with his grandfather, former Tarrant County auditor Jimmy C. Causey, in a campaign ad. (Photo: Talarico campaign via YouTube)
Two poorly understood brands of Christianity
The argument is that a liberal heretic like Talarico can’t be a true Christian. In fact, if my social media feed is anything to go by, the smiling cherub from Round Rock, Texas, is the very spawn of Satan. All this talk about loving your neighbor is just pious façade, critics allege. Deep down, Talarico hates Texas, despises America and loathes true Christianity.
Robert Jeffress of First Baptist Dallas has said Talarico is “not a Christian” and is “evil.”
By the Republican account, Talarico has said there are as many as six genders. What he actually said is that modern science recognizes “many more than two biological sexes” and then said, “In fact, there are six.” He was discussing chromosomal/intersex variations in a debate over transgender athletes.
By the Republican account, Talarico supports LGBTQ rights and celebrates women preachers. That’s true, and it’s true of many progressive Christians in Texas too.
“The argument is that a liberal heretic like Talarico can’t be a true Christian.”
By the Republican account, Talarico is pro-choice. Also true. In 2026, Talarico explicitly said he trusts Texas women to make their own decisions about their bodies and that abortion is not a matter for government. He has also made a theological case for abortion rights, including arguing that the Bible is silent on abortion.
By the Republican account, Talarico opposes state-sponsored religion in public schools, which is a position held by most everyone in Texas except evangelical Christians. Talarico has distinguished teaching about religion from government-sponsored preaching and said he opposes using government power to elevate one faith tradition over others. He specifically invoked the First Amendment’s Establishment Clause in discussing the Texas Ten Commandments law.
By the Republican account, the pastoral staff of Talarico’s church, Saint Andrews Presbyterian, also has provided Talarico’s critics with desperately needed ammunition. They claim Talarico’s pastor says many of the stories of the Bible are the stuff of myth and legend, doesn’t believe in a literal resurrection, and rejects the idea that Jesus died to save us from our sins. An associate pastor isn’t sure if Jesus is even a historical figure.
That’s all basically true, representing the statements of the church’s leadership but not necessarily the congregation. This is not a description of Talarico’s own beliefs. Should Ken Paxton be judged by the beliefs of his pastor of record — Jack Graham — or by the beliefs of his pastor son-in-law who believes Democrats are the “kingdom of darkness”?
Republicans point out that Saint Andrews prides itself on being a faith community where everyone is welcome. In 2007, Robert Jensen, a journalism professor at the University of Texas, was welcomed into the membership of the Round Rock congregation as an unrepentant atheist. Jenson claimed to be a “sort of Christian” because he was inspired by the universal love at the heart of Jesus’ teaching and was looking for a faith community that followed Jesus.
“Republicans point out that Saint Andrews prides itself on being a faith community where everyone is welcome.”
Thus, the accusation is that Talarico’s church is too welcoming.
The people of Saint Andrews Presbyterian are passionate about living out the ethics of Jesus and are not much interested in traditional Christian metaphysics. They respect other faith traditions, roll out the welcome mat for the LGBTQ community and are concerned about the political implications of Jesus’ call to universal love and radical forgiveness.
Republican strategists are betting when true Texans understand what they describe as Talarico’s brand of Christianity, they will flee in terror. Paxton may have the sexual, business and political ethics of an alley cat, but he believes the Bible, he is opposed to abortion and he encourages school prayer. We’re just not sure where he goes to church, if he does. His membership remains at Prestonwood Baptist Church in Plano, Texas, but church leaders there say he hasn’t attended in years. Pastor Jack Graham served on the faith advisory team for Paxton’s primary opponent, John Cornyn.
The Senate race in Texas is unpredictable because most Texans don’t know much about the two versions of faith on offer in this election: Christian nationalism and progressive Christianity.
In Texas, the oil business and evangelical religion are joined at the hip
If you get your political information from mainstream media outlets, you may wonder why I am viewing the Texas midterm election through a religious lens. After all, isn’t Texas politics primarily driven by the oil lobby?
Yes, it is. So, why is a Christian nationalist like Bo French so eager to regulate the oil and gas industry, and why has the fight between Talarico and Paxton taken on an overtly religious dimension?
Because in Texas, oil and religion should never be discussed independently.
As the introduction to Darren Dochuk’s groundbreaking Anointed with Oil: How Christianity and Crude Made Modern America states, throughout the 20th century and “down to the present day, the oil industry’s leaders and its ordinary workers together fundamentally transformed American religion, business and politics — boosting America’s ascent as the preeminent global power, giving shape to modern evangelical Christianity, fueling the rise of the Republican Right, and setting the terms for today’s political and environmental debates.”
Since Jan. 10, 1901, when the famous Lucas No. 1 well blew at Spindletop Hill near Beaumont, Texas, evangelical religion and Texas oil tycoons have been hammering out a mutually beneficial vision of religion and politics.
Bo French is the Republican candidate to head the Texas Railroad Commission because his blend of xenophobia and Christian nationalism appeals to the oil lobby.
Similarly, it shouldn’t surprise you that two Texas oil and fracking billionaires, Tim Dunn and Farris Wilks, bankrolled Paxton’s 2014 run for Texas attorney general. Nor that Defend Texas Liberty, an oil-funded PAC, has poured millions into Paxton’s war chest. Nor that oil magnates saved Paxton from being convicted in the Texas Senate after he had been impeached in the House. Nor that Paxton’s corrupt practices all have been tied to his quid pro quo obligations to the oil lobby.
A Talarico victory could change the dynamics of Texas politics
Paxton and French have aligned themselves with a religious movement that aims to bring the “seven mountains” of American culture (government, family, education, business, media, arts and entertainment, and religion) under the direct rule of Christ. Texas evangelicalism and the oil industry have been locked in a marriage of convenience since before anyone presently living was born.
By contrast, James Talarico is aligned with a religious movement dedicated to the strict separation of church and state. Christian teaching shapes Talarico’s politics, to be sure, but he doesn’t want any religious (or anti-religious) tradition dictating how non-adherents should live.
Most conservative Christians (whether evangelical, Catholic, Orthodox or Mainline) will side with Paxton. Most Muslims, Jews, Hindus, atheists and agnostics, in league with most Black and Latino Christians, will side with Talarico. Most Texans are neither progressive Christians nor Christian nationalists, but those are the only options on the table.
In red states like Texas, the romance between oil money and religious populism dominates everything. But if Talarico rides to victory in November, this marriage of convenience could be on rocky ground.
Alan Bean leads the nonprofit Friends of Justice and lives in Fort Worth, Texas, where he attends Broadway Baptist Church.
Related:
Fact check: Yes, Talarico’s grandfather was a Baptist pastor
Talarico pledges support for church-state separation
The arrogance of Jeffress’ claims about James Talarico | Opinion by Rodney Kennedy





