2026 United States Senate election in Texas
Based on Wikipedia: 2026 United States Senate election in Texas
A Civil War Inside the Republican Party
Something remarkable is happening in Texas politics. For the first time in over half a century, a sitting United States Senator might lose his job—not to a Democrat, but to a member of his own party.
John Cornyn has represented Texas in the Senate since 2002. He's won four elections. He's never come close to losing. And now, heading into 2026, he's trailing in the polls to a man who was impeached just three years ago.
This isn't really a story about John Cornyn or Ken Paxton. It's a story about what it means to be a Republican in Texas today, and how that definition has changed so dramatically that two men from the same party can barely recognize each other as allies.
The Establishment Senator
To understand John Cornyn, you need to understand what the Republican Party looked like when he first ran for Senate. George W. Bush was president. The party's identity centered on free trade, strong national defense, and a kind of chamber-of-commerce conservatism that prioritized business interests and steady governance.
Cornyn fit that mold perfectly. He'd served as a Texas Supreme Court justice and attorney general before coming to Washington. He rose through the Senate ranks, eventually serving as the Republican Whip—the number two leadership position. He became known as a dealmaker, someone who could work across the aisle when necessary.
That dealmaking instinct led him to do something that would come back to haunt him.
In May 2022, a gunman walked into Robb Elementary School in Uvalde, Texas, and killed nineteen children and two teachers. It was one of the deadliest school shootings in American history, and it happened in Cornyn's home state.
In the aftermath, Cornyn worked with Democratic Senator Chris Murphy of Connecticut to craft a bipartisan gun safety bill. The legislation enhanced background checks for gun buyers under twenty-one, provided funding for mental health services in schools, and closed the so-called "boyfriend loophole" that had allowed some domestic abusers to keep their weapons.
The bill passed. President Biden signed it. And in many ways, that was the moment John Cornyn's troubles began.
The Insurgent Attorney General
Ken Paxton has been Texas Attorney General since 2015, but his tenure has been anything but conventional.
Since before he even took office, Paxton has faced federal securities fraud charges stemming from his time as a state legislator. The case has dragged on for nearly a decade, with Paxton's lawyers successfully delaying trial after trial. He's pleaded not guilty and maintains his innocence, but the charges still hang over him.
Then came the impeachment.
In May 2023, the Texas House of Representatives—controlled by Paxton's own Republican Party—voted to impeach him on twenty articles. The charges ranged from bribery to obstruction of justice, many centering on Paxton's relationship with a donor named Nate Paul who allegedly received favorable treatment from the Attorney General's office.
The House vote wasn't even close: 121 members voted to impeach, with only 23 voting no. This wasn't Democrats attacking a Republican. These were Republicans, many of them quite conservative, saying that Ken Paxton had to go.
But Texas has a quirk in its impeachment process. The House impeaches, but the Senate tries the case. And the Texas Senate acquitted Paxton on all charges in September 2023.
What would destroy most political careers became, for Paxton, a kind of resurrection narrative. He'd been attacked by the establishment. He'd survived. And to a certain segment of the Republican base, that made him a hero.
The Trump Factor
Here's where things get interesting.
Donald Trump has not endorsed anyone in this race. He calls both Cornyn and Paxton "good friends." But his shadow looms over everything.
Trump once called Cornyn a "hopeless" RINO—Republican In Name Only—for supporting the gun safety bill. Paxton has featured that criticism prominently in his campaign advertising. The message is clear: Cornyn betrayed the movement. Paxton stayed loyal.
Polling suggests this message is landing. Surveys show Paxton with a commanding lead among voters who identify with what pollsters call the "Trump Movement." Cornyn, meanwhile, leads among "Traditional Republicans"—but that's a shrinking share of the primary electorate.
The math is brutal for Cornyn. To win a Republican primary in Texas, you need Trump voters. And Trump voters, at least according to the polls, prefer Paxton.
The Third Man
There's another candidate who deserves mention: Wesley Hunt, a congressman from Houston who's only been in office since 2023.
Hunt's story is genuinely remarkable. He's a West Point graduate and Army veteran who flew Apache helicopters in Iraq. He's young, charismatic, and represents a different kind of Republican future—one that's conservative but perhaps less combative than the Paxton model.
But Hunt hasn't gained much traction. The race has become a two-man fight between Cornyn and Paxton, with Hunt struggling to find oxygen. His presence may ultimately matter most as a spoiler—if he takes enough votes from Cornyn to prevent anyone from winning a majority in the first round, the race goes to a runoff, which could favor Paxton.
The General Election Problem
Republicans have won every Senate race in Texas since 1990. That's thirty-six years of unbroken dominance. An incumbent Texas senator hasn't lost a primary since 1970—over half a century ago.
So why would Republicans worry about this seat?
Because Ken Paxton might not be able to win a general election.
Polls show Paxton running significantly behind Cornyn in hypothetical matchups against Democratic candidates. In some surveys, Paxton actually trails Democrats—something almost unthinkable for a Republican in Texas.
Texas has been trending more competitive in recent years. In 2018, Democrat Beto O'Rourke came within three points of beating Ted Cruz. In 2024, Colin Allred made the race competitive again. The state's demographics are changing, with growing urban and suburban populations that lean more Democratic.
A strong Republican candidate can still win Texas comfortably. But a deeply flawed candidate with federal charges pending and a fresh impeachment on his record? That's a different calculation.
The Democratic Opportunity
Democrats haven't won a statewide election in Texas since 1994. That's an even longer drought than the Republican Senate streak.
But the chaos in the Republican primary has them dreaming.
Colin Allred, who ran against Ted Cruz in 2024, briefly entered the race before dropping out in December 2025. His exit cleared the way for Jasmine Crockett, a congresswoman from Dallas who's become something of a progressive star.
Crockett serves on the House Oversight Committee, where she's gained national attention for her sharp questioning of witnesses and her willingness to engage in political combat. She's young, she's telegenic, and she's shown an ability to raise money and generate enthusiasm.
Also running is James Talarico, a state representative who's carved out a niche as a thoughtful progressive voice in Austin. He's a former teacher who speaks often about education policy and has tried to reframe Democratic messaging around family values and faith.
Neither would be favored in a general election against a strong Republican. But against Ken Paxton? The polls suggest it might be a real race.
The Stakes Beyond Texas
This election matters beyond the Lone Star State's borders.
The Senate is narrowly divided. Every seat matters for control of the chamber. A surprise Democratic pickup in Texas would reshape the political landscape in ways that would ripple through policy debates on everything from judicial nominations to budget fights.
But perhaps more importantly, this race is a test case for the future of the Republican Party itself.
Can traditional conservatives survive in a party that's been remade in Trump's image? Is there still room for dealmakers and institutionalists, or must every Republican now be a fighter first and a legislator second? Does impeachment matter anymore, or has partisan loyalty become the only measure that counts?
John Cornyn has served in the Senate for over two decades. He's passed legislation, confirmed judges, and represented Texas through four presidential administrations. By any traditional measure, he's been a successful senator.
And yet he might lose to a man who's been indicted, impeached, and barely survived removal from office—because that man has positioned himself as more authentically conservative.
What does "conservative" even mean anymore? That's the question Texas Republicans will answer in March 2026.
A Cornyn Miscalculation
In June 2025, Cornyn told the Wall Street Journal something remarkable: he'd be willing to step aside if another candidate emerged who could defeat Paxton.
Think about what that statement reveals. A four-term senator, a former party whip, a man who's won election after election—essentially admitting he might not be the best person to carry the Republican banner in his own state.
Cornyn retracted the statement days later, saying he wouldn't drop out. But the damage was done. His comments suggested weakness, uncertainty, a man who wasn't sure he could win. In politics, confidence matters. Cornyn had shown a crack in his armor.
Whether that moment of candor costs him remains to be seen. But it captured something essential about this race: even John Cornyn seems to sense that the party he's served for decades has moved somewhere he can't quite follow.
The Long View
Texas was once solidly Democratic. From Reconstruction through the 1970s, Republicans barely existed in statewide politics. Then the realignment came—driven by civil rights, cultural changes, and the Republican Party's "Southern Strategy" of appealing to white conservative voters.
Now Democrats wonder if another realignment might be possible. Texas's population has boomed with newcomers from other states. Its cities have grown more diverse and more liberal. The suburban voters who once reliably supported Republicans have become more skeptical.
None of this means Texas is about to flip. The state remains more conservative than the national average. Republicans start with significant structural advantages.
But politics is about margins. And if Ken Paxton wins the Republican primary, Democrats will have their best chance in a generation to win a Texas Senate seat.
That's the paradox at the heart of this election. Republican primary voters might choose the candidate who best represents their values—and in doing so, hand Democrats an unexpected gift.
Or Cornyn might pull out a victory, hold the seat comfortably, and prove that there's still a place for his brand of Republicanism in Texas.
Either way, what happens on March 3, 2026, will tell us something important about where American politics is heading. Texas has a way of doing that—of serving as a preview of battles that will eventually play out across the country.
This time, the battle is inside one party's soul. And the whole country will be watching.