Earlier this week, of course, James Talarico handily won the Democratic primary for the U.S. Senate in Texas on Tuesday night, dominating in progressive strongholds, Hispanic communities, and rural areas to secure a nomination that has not produced a winner since 1988, the last time Texas voted for a Democrat for the U.S. Senate. One point often overlooked in the analysis of his victory is that his winning message of unity, civility, and faith-driven action rebuked theories that Democratic voters want the most pugilistic candidates, ones who harness Donald Trump-like combativeness. Maybe 2028 Democratic hopefuls should be more like Talarico.
The 2.2 million voters who cast ballots in the primary hit turnout numbers Texas Democrats haven’t seen this century, except during the 2008 presidential election. Democrats actually outperformed Republicans, which is shocking when you consider that typically, Republican primary voters outnumber Democratic primary voters by about 20 percentage points in Texas.
“We are trying to fundamentally change our politics, and it’s working,” Talarico, a fourth-term representative in the state house, told supporters at an election night event in Austin just after midnight. “The number of young people who showed up to vote in this election is unprecedented. The number of Texans who have never voted before who showed up in this election is unprecedented. The number of independents and Republicans who voted in this Democratic primary is unprecedented.”
Representative Jasmine Crockett conceded early Wednesday morning at her Dallas headquarters, throwing her support behind Talarico ahead of the November general election. Pundits have framed the result as moderation defeating progressivism. Still, the candidates have little daylight between them on policy. On some issues, like cryptocurrency, Crockett is more closely aligned with Democrats and Republicans who don’t want to hinder its growth, despite concerns. Crockett also drew criticism from the left for voting to send offensive weapons to Israel and cut off humanitarian funding to the United Nations Relief and Works Agency, which provides humanitarian aid and services to Palestinian refugees, and for participating in an AIPAC-funded trip to Israel in 2023. Talarico, in contrast, has never taken a dime from the pro-Israel lobbying group and said in a recent podcast interview that he supports banning the sale of offensive weapons to Israel. But the real difference between them was strategic, with Crockett turning her ire toward the Trump administration. At the same time, Talarico went after billionaires and corporations, as the Washington Monthly’s Bill Scher pointed out last month.
Crockett’s answer to the MAGA movement is to take pages out of Donald Trump’s playbook, regularly engaging in verbal sparring matches with her Republican colleagues. She made headlines for referring to Governor Greg Abbott, who uses a wheelchair, as “Hot Wheels” and saying that Latinos voting for Trump have a “slave mentality.”
By contrast, Talarico has reached out to MAGA voters by appearing on “manosphere” podcasts like “The Joe Rogan Experience”—a move Kamala Harris apparently regrets not making in 2024. While Crockett’s adoption of MAGA’s bare-knuckled tactics might arguably have a place in the Democratic party, and seems to be bolstering other Senate wannabes like Graham Platner in Maine, it didn’t work here. Talarico appears to take his cue from New York City Mayor Zohran Mamadani, who spared no fury toward Trump and Gotham’s Democratic establishment but always with charm. He modulated his aggressive style after taking office, recently standing beside Trump at the White House with folded hands and a tight smile to seek the release of a Columbia University student detained by ICE and support for a massive affordable housing project that intrigued the president, a former developer. Mamdani, beloved by progressives, effectively gives tacit permission to candidates like Talarico to reach beyond the base and go straight to MAGA voters without compromising their own bona fides. Now, Talarico may have that effect on other Democrats as well.
“From nearly the moment they lost the last presidential race, Democrats have been debating whether their best way forward was to emulate President Trump or counter him,” Lisa Lerer wrote for The New York Times. In this case, it seems Democrats have soured on emulation, especially as establishment Democrats like Gavin Newsom co-opt Trump’s use of all-caps tweets and AI-generated images for cheap hits on social media.
Indeed, Talarico’s victory rally triggered an Obama-era “One America” memory for some. “Tonight, the people of our state gave this country a little bit of hope, and a little bit of hope is a dangerous thing,” Talarico told supporters Tuesday night, seemingly nodding to Obama’s “Audacity of Hope” campaign that won him every major Texas city besides El Paso in the 2008 Texas Democratic primary.
Indeed, the 44th president praised Talarico in a podcast interview with Marc Maron in October, a few weeks before Crockett entered the race. “He’s terrific. Really talented young man,” Obama said on the show. “His starting point is, ‘Let me say what I believe.’ Now, more than ever, what people long for is some core integrity that seems absent. Just a sense that the person seems to walk the walk.” Obama, though, stayed neutral in the race.
Talarico’s supporters at the election night shindig repeatedly cited the 36-year-old’s authenticity and character as key reasons for voting for him. Grinning under bright blue stage lights and surrounded by a lively crowd at Emo’s Austin, Talarico supporter Josh Levine told me that he came of age in politics in 2008, watching an Obama rally. Twenty years old at the time, he had been volunteering for a different candidate, but once he saw the senator speak, he switched allegiances.
“I’m a big believer that politicians should speak more about values than fighting head-to-head,” Levine, now 38 and an AI developer, told me. “Texas has its own culture. Everyone is extremely independent, open, and caring. People are looking to be inspired.”
Talarico’s particular brand of optimism is grounded in a back-to-basics appeal to faith. A Presbyterian seminarian, he often references his faith on the campaign trail. Even among Texans who fall outside of the 67 percent who identify as Christians, Talarico’s Christian faith seems to inspire trust.
Shaan Davis, a 27-year-old campaign volunteer, said he liked Talarico’s faith-based message even though he is “not really” faithful himself, adding that the Austin-based legislator’s commitment to clean campaign finances signaled integrity. After losing his tech consulting job a month ago, Davis said politics has become more personal for him.
“I lost my job…I need affordable healthcare. That’s personal to me. I am a child of an immigrant. That’s very personal to me,” Davis said.
Chad Ayers, a campaign volunteer who lives in Georgetown, Texas, said he left the Catholic church. However, he said he still relates to Talarico’s faith, noting that the party’s supporters held black-and-white signs reading “Love Thy Neighbor.”
“I think he’s very relatable to a lot of people,” Ayers said. “He leads with love, but with a call to action to use that love for good.”
When Talarico addressed supporters at the party, Ayers stood behind him onstage, grinning alongside other volunteers and team members in colorful clothes and sparkly western garb, holding “Take Back Texas” signs and waving miniature Lone Star State flags. Over the speaker, a mix of Bad Bunny and country played as Talarico shook hands. The scene reminded me that the “big tent” argument pushed by establishment Democrats like Ken Martin, the party chair, after the 2024 election loss, can be more than consultant-speak. Talarico proved that by courting independents, Republicans, and first-time voters.
Kennedy Quintanilla, a 17-year-old high school senior in Austin, stayed at the event with her parents until late into the night, saying that Talarico’s campaign made her excited to vote for the first time, a rare perspective, perhaps, in an era when youth report disillusionment and distrust in national leadership at high levels.
“Talarico can appeal to people on all sides with all different values,” Quaintanilla said. “I hope that we have more participation and more people voicing their opinions in the future.”
The record-level turnout on Tuesday represented a kind of hope that Texas Democrats had long craved. Texans have mourned tragedy after tragedy over the past year. July 4 flooding in the Hill Country—and a delayed FEMA response—left more than 130 people dead, including 27 young girls at Camp Mystic. Six people died in the immigration detention centers in Texas in the last six weeks, and thousands more remain imprisoned. And just days before the election, three people were killed and over a dozen were injured in a mass shooting at a bar just three miles across the river from where Talarico declared victory Wednesday night.
“America is praying for Austin,” Talarico wrote on X shortly after the news broke. “But there is something profoundly cynical about asking God to solve a problem we’re not willing to solve ourselves. God moves and works through us. God has no other hands but our hands.”
Talarico’s approach to tragedy marks a departure from fellow Texan, Beto O’Rourke, who unsuccessfully ran for the U.S. Senate in Texas in 2018 and governor in 2022. During his gubernatorial bid, in the aftermath of the devastating Uvalde school shooting, O’Rourke interrupted Governor Greg Abbott’s press conference to demand stricter gun control laws. At the time, progressives were impressed by O’Rourke’s act of moral righteousness, but blowback from the right came instantly. “You sick son of a bitch, I can’t believe you would come to a deal like this to make it a political issue,” said an incredulous Uvalde Mayor Don McLaughlin. O’Rourke’s weak standing in the polls didn’t budge, and Abbott coasted to an 11-point victory.
Talarico’s approach is less combative but laser-focused on finding solutions to the violence facing innocent Texans. This year, in the face of such heaviness, Texas Democrats chose the politics of hope.
“One thing is clear today: we are about to take back Texas,” Talarico told supporters at a victory party in Austin Wednesday night. “We’re done being divided. We’re done being played. We’re done being pitted against each other. That old politics is dying, and a new politics is being born.”
The closest Texas Democrats have come to winning a statewide office in a generation was in the 2018 U.S. Senate election, when O’Rourke lost to incumbent Ted Cruz by 2.6 points. Now, eight years later, Democrats are cautiously optimistic. Hope, it seems, is audacious.

