27/05/2024
This is such a well-written post and I encourage you to read it to the end.
THE DAY THE HOUSE WAS SET ABLAZE
Today marks one year since the disaster of impeachment in the Texas House.
In reflection on that day, there are some things of note that I’ve not shared publicly before.
I’d prefer this anniversary didn’t fall on the eve of numerous runoffs as I know some will find a certain indelicacy to talking about it before those polls close—something akin to discussing a cause of death in the waning hours of a patient on life support.
Actually, were it left to me, the other 22 Republicans who voted against impeachment, and the many who voted ‘aye’ and since have their regrets, there would be no such anniversary.
But here we are.
Guiding the House out from under the massive black cloud an elite few in leadership brought upon it is going to require candor, humility, transparency, and commitment to change that decentralizes the power structure that created the mess in the first place.
Republicans secured a great number of conservative wins last session; and yet impeachment overshadows every victory. We have a shared responsibility to ensure the failures of the past are neither rewarded nor perpetuated.
My voters, and my colleagues, can count me firmly and courageously on the side of change.
A number of Republican members quietly say either they regret their impeachment vote, or bemoan the process, or lament that it was ever forced on the House. Some in leadership are reportedly low-key making calls about ‘change’ of some kind being necessary next session.
Good! But where were these voices in the critical moments a year ago?
* * * * *
On the Saturday morning of impeachment, I was called to the Speaker’s office.
This was day 138 of the 140-day legislative session and would be just my second meeting with the Speaker all session.
I had been summoned, and I knew why.
The day before, in a meeting of our five officers of the House Republican caucus, I had asked for a meeting of all 85 caucus members. The majority of our members (myself included) had only that very week learned of the impeachment charges. The House was reeling from the shocking news; at a minimum, I thought Republicans should meet and discuss the situation.
That a meeting would be messy only underscored my opinion of our need for it.
There would be no meeting, I was told—no chances for contrarian members to ‘hijack the process.’
It was apparent that the tightly-clenched fist of innermost leadership planned to control the outcome by keeping Republican members disjointed and siloed, with definite vote expectations and no opportunity for group discussion or dissent. This was as disappointing as it was consistent with the purposeful underutilization of the caucus and its membership all session.
Instead, I was informed I could discuss my personal concerns and questions with the investigating chair.
Within an hour, I was in a chamber-adjacent meeting room with the investigating committee chair, a couple other chairmen, and a few other members who had concerns.
The impeachment allegations were egregious and scandalous; so too was the rush of pushing us to a vote within two days of the articles being filed. The rush broke from precedent, good judgment, and common sense.
Every procedural concern I had was dismissed as being akin to a grand jury proceeding.
Every political concern I had was dismissed with bravado that the other chamber, once presented the case, would have no option but to agree.
For weeks, the Speaker and a select few of his innermost confidants had been engaged in an escalating civil war with Senate leadership and yet from the most basic tactical standpoint were about to pitch a live political gr***de to the other side, pin intact, expecting a third targeted party to be the casualty.
Those of us sounding the alarms were disregarded and ignored.
None of it made for sound strategy or good sense—not the timing, not the rush, not the siloing of members to squelch discussion while insisting the evidence was so significant the other chamber would have to agree.
That afternoon I would hear a colleague remark to Speaker staff: ‘I’m ride or die, but why do we have to die?’
There was no good answer.
* * * * *
Following my Friday attempts to change the pace and direction of the House, I was not surprised to be called to the Speaker’s office that Saturday morning before the proceeding.
I expressed to the Speaker the same procedural and political concerns I’d shared the day before, to the same effect.
He asked me to keep an open mind and to watch the voting board, as he expected to have all the votes they needed.
Thinking there must be evidence full of bombshells about to be unveiled that would justify the proceedings and process, I agreed to keep an open mind.
I was never specifically told how to vote, nor directly asked to vote ‘yes.’ Nor did I need to be. Being called to meet with the Speaker sufficiently conveyed those messages.
And having been called in, I also knew: there would be no leniency with leadership for a ‘no’ vote.
* * * * *
“Show the Speaker voting aye.”
The Speaker rarely votes, so when those words ring through the chamber we know the vote that follows is directional signage to members.
We also know that if you’re going to be on the opposite side of the vote when the gavel falls, you better dang well mean it.
I voted ‘nay.’
I meant it—while praying and grieving the entire situation for our state, the affected parties, and my colleagues.
Impeachment passed the House: 121 yeas - 23 nays - 2 present not voting.
Within minutes of the vote, a member of leadership was at my side, asking me to change my vote in the journal.
It turned out that of the 121 yeas, 60 were Republicans and 61 were Democrats—meaning impeachment articles against a sitting statewide Republican official had just been preferred by a majority of Ds.
If I would change my vote in the journal, leadership could at least claim an equally bipartisan (61-R and 61-D) decision had been made.
Forget lack of leniency, my answer would likely mean the difference between being benched for a few plays and being blackballed next session.
The moment required quick calculus and political courage.
I declined to change my vote.
* * * * *
In the months since the Senate’s acquittal on all impeachment articles, I’ve been told that some House members are ‘pissed’ at how I voted because they also wanted to vote ‘no’ and I didn’t stick with the team.
What ought to be maddening to every Republican member is a broken concept of ‘team’ that so disrespects members as to deny us a caucus meeting beforehand; forces a process intentionally rushed to limit constituent influence; and backs members into a time-pressured corner to control their vote.
It ought to be maddening to watch a post-primary interview where our Speaker claims the impeachment agenda was member-driven… unless we accept a single-digit definition of ‘member-driven.’
Impeachment was a top-down, force-feed maneuver of unnecessary political warfare by the very few that backfired both predictably and horrendously on the Speaker, his innermost leadership circle, and those who trusted him.
Texans deserve better than to watch one of their legislative chambers operate as the House did with its impeachment proceedings and in the aftermath of it.
Similarly, Republican House members deserve better than to be divided amongst ourselves, conscripted in a political war against other members of our party, and forced to choose between ‘team’ and our constituents.
Any member who, having this day last year to do over again, would vote ‘nay’ on impeachment should absolutely not vote ‘yea’ on continuation of the same leadership and the same centralized power structure.
And any member who, with the benefit of hindsight, would still bring that impeachment to the floor in the same manner and speed with which it was brought, should absolutely not be entrusted with leadership responsibility.
Whatever the House has learned from impeachment it should, at a minimum, be this:
The architects of impeachment lit the House on fire,
and regardless of what happens in the runoff elections,
we cannot select an arsonist as fire chief.
Texas House Republicans must do better—for our voters, ourselves, and the future of Texas.
# # #
Republican State Representative Shelby Slawson represents District 59 in North Central Texas.