Trial may confuse your inner echo chamber
The historic impeachment trial of suspended Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton taking place this week in the hallowed chambers of the state Senate ain’t for the faint of heart.
The spectacle, livestreamed and attended by Paxton fans and foes alike in the chamber gallery, challenges average Texans who, much like average Americans these days, are echo chamber-dwelling tribalists. The strange bedfellows and upside down-feeling nature of some aspects of the trial should challenge us all to think outside our silos and trust people we’d never let near our Facebook feed.
For starters, Paxton, the darling of evangelical Republican primary voters, is being defended against corruption charges by none other than Tony Buzbee, the flamboyant trial attorney and former chairman of the Galveston County Democratic Party known for such antics as trucking in horse manure to a news conference during his Houston mayoral campaign and just last week, announcing a lastminute run for Houston City Council in nearly the same breath that he rolled out a line of THCinfused seltzers called HoBuzz. Ho there, Mr. Buzbee, shouldn’t you have been preparing for trial?
And yet, the guy gets up Tuesday, all slick-haired, tangerine-tinged and silk-tongued and gives a compelling case that plays into the sympathies of fire-breathing Republicans: Paxton is innocent! The evil media “were calling for Ken Paxton’s head!” The Bushes are out to get him for beating George P. in last year’s primary. Fellow Republican House Speaker Dade Phelan was just seeking “political vengeance” in allowing the House to bring impeachment proceedings after Paxton accused the “drunken speaker” of slurring his speech at the gavel (video evidence begs to differ).
We have to admit, Buzbee’s theatrics were impressive, and his flat denials of specific allegations piqued our interest: Paxton didn’t really have a burner phone to hide his extramarital affair or dealings with developer campaign donor buddy Nate Paul, Buzbee claimed. Paxton and his wife, Sen. Angela Paxton — not Paul — really did pay for their house renovations, and there was no fancy granite — only “old ratty” tile. And perhaps most importantly, Buzbee hinted that Paxton really didn’t Grinchishly swipe a donated H-E-B cake from his deserving employees during the holiday season.
What really took the cake, considering Paxton’s efforts to help Trump overthrow the 2020 election, was Buzbee accusing pro-impeachment lawmakers of trying to disenfranchise more than four million voters who kept Paxton in office last year.
“What could be less democratic than only 30 people deciding who should be the attorney general of Texas?” Buzbee demanded. We can think of a few things. Bribery. Malfeasance. Abuse of office. Violating open records laws you’re sworn to defend. Stuff like that.
Meanwhile, another guy we’re supposed to trust and perhaps herald as a hero — a star witness of the prosecutors — is one of Paxton’s former handpicked aids who left the agency after ultimately blowing the whistle on his boss' shenanigans: Jeff Mateer, a chatty, button-up Baptist, Federalist Society member and selfdescribed “end of the spectrum” conservative who currently serves as chief legal officer at the First Liberty Institute. He lost his Trump nomination for a federal bench after his disturbing anti-LGBTQ comments were unearthed, including his referral to transgender youth as part of “Satan’s plan.” We can imagine some liberals experiencing cognitive dissonance as they simultaneously wince at his credentials, cling to his every word and swat away feelings of admiration over his courage in outing Paxton.
Then there’s the man presiding over the whole thing, Lt. Gov. Dan Patrick. The former shock jock, who made his name by painting himself Oilers blue and getting an on-air vasectomy (actually, that took some cajónes!) and now presides as the much feared, uber-partisan president of the Texas Senate, found himself in the seemingly unnatural role of umpire, calling balls and strikes, and being addressed as “your honor.” We’re sure his son, former Harris County state district judge Ryan Patrick, is getting a kick out of that. The elder Patrick is known to impress us every now and then, and on Tuesday, he did just that, carefully considering objections, reserving any outward favoritism or apparently, any undo pressure on members to vote a certain way. And perhaps most impressively, keeping things moving at a pace that seemed to ward off any senatorial napping.
Senators seemed engaged, with Houston’s state Sen. Paul Bettencourt even scribbling notes occasionally on a yellow legal pad. He should have taken more notes before he joined the gaggle of six Republican senators, including Sen. Brandon Creighton of Conroe, who voted with Paxton on all early motions, including his move to dismiss the charges and go home. Bettencourt, being up for reelection is no excuse for not doing the right thing.
On the other hand, we’ll single out Republican Sen. Joan Huffman of Houston for seemingly voting her conscience against Paxton’s motions to thwart the trial. It’s probably harder for a former prosecutor and state district judge to turn a blind eye to the evidence than it is for some of her fellow Republicans.
When revelations first emerged months ago that a Republican-led Texas House investigations committee had conducted an extensive probe of allegations against Paxton, we didn’t have high hopes that it would go far. It’s been a long time since principle (or even the rule of law) trumped partisanship in Texas.
But state Rep. Andrew Murr, RJunction, who led the successful House impeachment, and his fellow Republicans who chose to seek truth in the face of primary threats deserve our respect. The ongoing proceedings, argued on both sides by some of Houston’s most renowned lawyers — Rusty Hardin and Dick DeGuerin for the prosecution and Tony Buzbee and Dan Cogdell for the defense — aren’t just great political theater, despite our light, gawking tone.
They’re of great democratic consequence, deciding not just who will preside as Texas chief law enforcement officer and whether Paxton can hold office again but also demonstrating the kind of behavior Texans will accept from our elected leaders and what we won’t.
It takes two-thirds of the Texas Senate to convict Paxton. But it takes average Texans watching these proceedings to have trust in them and trust in the outcome. Some are lured to watch by their loyalty to Paxton. Some by the history. Some, yes, by the show.
The rare circumstances and strange bedfellows might just encourage us to look past parties, ideologies and assumptions and absorb some real facts. Who knows, you might be surprised. We might be surprised.
Come for whatever reason you want. Stay for the evidence. Paxton deserves a fair trial — something he appears to have avoided in the eight years since he was indicted for felony securities fraud. And Texans should stand witness.
Attorney General Paxton’s impeachment case is loaded full of strange bedfellows.