midterm

AUSTIN, Texas — James Talarico did not mention President Trump when he greeted exuberant supporters at his primary night celebration.

But the newly minted Democratic U.S. Senate nominee in Texas is now a front man for the political opposition to the Republican president, not just in his own state but around the country. With his victory over U.S. Rep. Jasmine Crockett, the state lawmaker from Austin will test whether a smiling message of unity and change is enough to answer voters’ frustrations amid discord at home and now a war abroad.

“We are not just trying to win an election,” Talarico told supporters in the Texas capital early Wednesday. “We are trying to fundamentally change our politics, and it’s working.”

The campaign provided “Love thy Neighbor” signs to people in the crowd.

The question for Talarico as he heads into the general election campaign is whether he can generate enthusiasm from voters who opted for Crockett because they saw her as the more aggressive fighter against Trump. Crockett conceded to Talarico on Wednesday morning, saying that “Texas is primed to turn blue and we must remain united because this is bigger than any one person.”

Talarico will need all the help he can get in a Republican-dominated state where Democrats have gone decades without winning a statewide race. He will face either U.S. Sen. John Cornyn or state Atty. Gen. Ken Paxton, who advanced to a Republican runoff on Tuesday.

Conventional political wisdom has it that Talarico was the stronger Democratic candidate in November, especially if Republicans nominate Paxton, a conservative firebrand who has weathered allegations of corruption and infidelity over the years.

Although Democrats are often choosing between moderate and progressive candidates in primaries, they faced a largely stylistic choice in Texas.

Talarico, 36, is a Presbyterian seminarian who quotes Scripture and rarely raises his voice. Crockett, 44, is an unapologetic political brawler who hammers Trump and other Republicans with acidic flourish.

Both have been reliably progressive votes in their current roles and telegenic faces across cable news and social media. Both represent generational change for a party with aging leadership. Each called for a more equitable economy and society. Each talked about bringing sporadic voters into their coalitions.

But Talarico’s broader argument is one that he could have made regardless of whether Trump was in the White House. Talarico’s campaign, he said often, is about addressing a country whose fundamental divide is not partisan but “top vs. bottom.” He regularly assails the rise in Christian nationalism. A former teacher, he has advocated for public education — and against Texas conservatives’ policies to restrict curriculum and reshape how U.S. history is taught.

“He’s just a good friend and he’s a serious advocate for the disenfranchised and a serious policymaker,” said Lea Downey Gallatin, 40, an Austin resident who became friends with Talarico when they interned together for a congressman.

Crockett promised Democrats that she could increase turnout within the party’s base, while Talarico campaigned on the theory that he could pull new people into the party’s tent.

“I can’t tell you how many have come up to me, whispering that they’re not a Democrat,” Talarico said as he campaigned in San Antonio in the closing days of the primary campaign. “I can’t tell you how many young people have said it’s the first time that they’ve ever voted, and that they are participating for the first time.”

As he strolled through the city, Talarico posed for pictures and greeted the singer of a Tejano band playing nearby. He later spoke to hundreds of people at the historic Stable Hall, a 130-year-old circular structure built for showing horses and now a converted event center. Hundreds more, unable to get into the full event, wound around the corner and along the sidewalk for blocks.

Inside, Lori Alvarez, a 39-year-old who works for a disaster relief nonprofit, said she supported Talarico because “he really listens to what we need.”

“I think he’s going to be able to make change in Washington for us,” said the married mother of three young girls.

Yet that was not what attracted so many voters to Crockett.

Troy Burroughs, a 61-year-old Navy retiree, called Crockett “rugged” and “the only one I see fighting for us.”

He added: “I like how she doesn’t back down from anybody.”

Burroughs said some voters probably saw Talarico as more electable because he is more soft-spoken. But, he said, “We’ve got to get into the gutter with these folks, because that’s where they are.”

Talarico, meanwhile, keeps fighting his own way.

“Tonight, the people of our state gave this country a little bit of hope,” he said Tuesday, “and a little bit of hope is a dangerous thing.”

Barrow, Figueroa and Beaumont write for the Associated Press. Barrow reported from Atlanta, Figueroa from Austin, Texas, and Beaumont from San Antonio.

Donald Trump has never been one to play by the rules.

Whether it’s stiffing contractors as a real estate developer, defying court orders he doesn’t like as president or leveraging the Oval Office to vastly inflate his family’s fortune, Trump’s guiding principle can be distilled to a simple, unswerving calculation: What’s in it for me?

Trump is no student of history. He’s famously allergic to books. But he knows enough to know that midterm elections like the one in November have, with few exceptions, been ugly for the party holding the presidency.

With control of the House — and Trump’s virtually unchecked authority — dangling by a gossamer thread, he reckoned correctly that Republicans were all but certain to lose power this fall unless something unusual happened.

So he effectively broke the rules.

Normally, the redrawing of the country’s congressional districts takes place once every 10 years, following the census and accounting for population changes over the previous decade. Instead, Trump prevailed upon the Republican governor of Texas, Greg Abbott, to throw out the state’s political map and refashion congressional lines to wipe out Democrats and boost GOP chances of winning as many as five additional House seats.

The intention was to create a bit of breathing room, as Democrats need a gain of just three seats to seize control of the House.

In relatively short order, California’s Democratic governor, Gavin Newsom, responded with his own partisan gerrymander. He rallied voters to pass a tit-for-tat ballot measure, Proposition 50, which revised the state’s political map to wipe out Republicans and boost Democratic prospects of winning as many as five additional seats.

Then came the deluge.

In more than a dozen states, lawmakers looked at ways to tinker with their congressional maps to lift their candidates, stick it to the other party and gain House seats in November.

Some of those efforts continue, including in Virginia where, as in California, voters are being asked to amend the state Constitution to let majority Democrats redraw political lines ahead of the midterm. A special election is set for April 21.

But as the first ballots of 2026 are cast on Tuesday — in Arkansas, North Carolina and Texas — the broad contours of the House map have become clearer, along with the result of all those partisan machinations. The likely upshot is a nationwide partisan shift of fewer than a handful of seats.

The independent, nonpartisan Cook Political Report, which has a sterling decades-long record of election forecasting, said the most probable outcome is a wash. “At the end of the day,” said Erin Covey, who analyzes House races for the Cook Report, “this doesn’t really benefit either party in a real way.”

Well.

That was a lot of wasted time and energy.

Let’s take a quick spin through the map and the math, knowing that, of course, there are no election guarantees.

In Texas, for instance, new House districts were drawn assuming Latinos would back Republican candidates by the same large percentage they supported Trump in 2024. But that’s become much less certain, given the backlash against his draconian immigration enforcement policies; numerous polls show a significant falloff in Latino support for the president, which could hurt GOP candidates up and down the ballot.

But suppose Texas Republicans gain five seats as hoped for and California Democrats pick up the five seats they’ve hand-crafted. The result would be no net change.

Elsewhere, under the best case for each party, a gain of four Democratic House seats in Virginia would be offset by a gain of four Republican House seats in Florida.

That leaves a smattering of partisan gains here and there. A combined pickup of four or so Republican seats in Ohio, North Carolina and Missouri could be mostly offset by Democratic gains of a seat apiece in New York, Maryland and Utah.

(The latter is not a result of legislative high jinks, but rather a judge throwing out the gerrymandered map passed by Utah Republicans, who ignored a voter-approved ballot measure intended to prevent such heavy-handed partisanship. A newly created district, contained entirely within Democratic-leaning Salt Lake County, seems certain to go Democrats’ way in November.)

In short, it’s easy to characterize the political exertions of Trump, Abbott, Newsom and others as so much sound and fury producing, at bottom, little to nothing.

But that’s not necessarily so.

The campaign surrounding Proposition 50 delivered a huge political boost to Newsom, shoring up his standing with Democrats, significantly raising his profile across the country and, not least for his 2028 presidential hopes, helping the governor build a significant nationwide fundraising base.

In crimson-colored Indiana, Republicans refused to buckle under tremendous pressure from Trump, Vice President JD Vance and other party leaders, rejecting an effort to redraw the state’s congressional map and give the GOP a hold on all nine House seats. That showed even Trump’s Svengali-like hold on his party has its limits.

But the biggest impact is also the most corrosive.

By redrawing political lines to predetermine the outcome of House races, politicians rendered many of their voters irrelevant and obsolete. Millions of Democrats in Texas, Republicans in California and partisans in other states have been effectively disenfranchised, their voices rendered mute. Their ballots spindled and nullified.

In short, the politicians — starting with Trump — extended a big middle finger to a large portion of the American electorate.

Is it any wonder, then, so many voters hold politicians and our political system in contempt?

ATLANTA — He is weighing military action against Iran, leading an aggressive immigration crackdown, and teasing a federal takeover of state elections.

But on Thursday, President Trump’s team insists he will focus on the economy when he visits battleground Georgia in a trip designed to help boost Republicans’ political standing heading into the high-stakes midterm elections.

“Georgia is obviously a very important state to the president and to the Republican Party,” said White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt on the eve of his visit. Trump’s remarks in Georgia, she said, will highlight “his efforts to make life affordable for working people.”

Trump’s destination in Georgia suggests he has something else on his mind too. He’s heading to a congressional district previously represented by Marjorie Taylor Greene, a former supporter who resigned in January after feuding with Trump. There’s a special election to replace her on March 10.

The White House has long said Trump would focus more on the economy, and he frequently complains that he doesn’t get enough credit for it. But recent months have been dominated by other issues, including deadly clashes during deportation efforts in Minneapolis.

As a reminder of his divided attention, Trump is scheduled to begin Thursday with one of his passion projects. He’s gathering representatives from some of the more than two dozen countries that have joined his Board of Peace, a diplomatic initiative to supplant the United Nations.

False claims of voter fraud

The Georgia visit comes less than a month after federal agents seized voting records and ballots from Fulton County, home to the state’s largest collection of Democrats.

Trump has long seen Georgia as central to his false claim that the 2020 election was stolen by Democrats and President Biden, a fabrication that he reiterated Wednesday during a White House reception on Black History Month.

“We won by millions of votes but they cheated,” Trump said.

Audits, state officials, courts and Trump’s own former attorney general have all rejected the idea of widespread problems that could have altered the election.

Some Republicans are now pushing for Georgia’s State Election Board, which has a Trump-aligned majority, to take control of elections in Fulton County, a step enabled by a controversial state law passed in 2021. But it’s unclear if or when the board will act.

Leavitt, in the White House, said Wednesday that Trump was “exploring his options” when it comes to a potential executive order he teased on social media over the weekend designed to address voter fraud.

Trump described Democrats as “horrible, disingenuous CHEATERS” in the post, which is pinned to the top of his social media account. He also said that Republicans should feature such claims “at the top of every speech.”

Leavitt, meanwhile, insisted Trump would be focusing on affordability and the economy.

Greene has not gone quiet

Trump may be distracted by fresh attacks from Greene, once among the president’s most vocal allies in Congress and now one of his loudest conservative critics.

In a social media post ahead of Trump’s visit, Greene noted that the White House and Republican leaders met earlier in the week to develop an effective midterm message. She suggested they were “on the struggle bus” and blamed them for health insurance costs that ballooned this year.

“Approximately 75,000 households in my former district had their health insurance double or more on January 1st of this year because the ACA tax credits expired and Republicans have absolutely failed to fix our health insurance system that was destroyed by Obamacare,” she said. “And you can call me all the petty names you want, I don’t worship a man. I’m not in a cult.”

Early voting has already begun in the special election to replace Greene, and the leading Republican candidates have fully embraced Trump.

Trump recently endorsed Clay Fuller, a district attorney who prosecutes crimes in four counties. Fuller described Trump’s endorsement as “rocket fuel” for his candidacy in a weekend interview and vowed to maintain an America First agenda even if he remains in Congress after Trump is no longer president.

Other candidates include Republican former state Sen. Colton Moore, who made a name for himself with a vociferous attack on Trump’s prosecution in Georgia. Moore, the favorite of many far-right activists, said he’s been in communication with Trump even after Trump endorsed Fuller, calling the choice “unfortunate.”

“I think he’s the greatest president of our lifetimes,” Moore said.

The top Democrat in the race is Shawn Harris, who unsuccessfully ran against Greene in 2024. Democrats voice hope for an upset, but the district is rated as the most Republican district in Georgia by the Cook Political Report.

Amy and Peoples write for the Associated Press.

CAREFREE, Ariz. — Elizabeth H. paused recently outside the post office in this small, high-desert community, not far from where Easy Street meets Nonchalant Avenue.

She felt neither easy nor nonchalant.

“I think the climate imposed by the Trump administration is really sad and scary,” said Elizabeth, who asked to withhold her last name to avoid being attacked for the views she expressed.

“I don’t like the way that ICE is being used to bully citizens and even just people who are brown,” she continued. “And I don’t like that governors of blue states are being shut out while governors of red states are being welcomed. I just don’t think he treats us like we’re all Americans.”

For his part, Anthony D. finds little not to like about President Trump. He, too, asked not to use his last name, as did several others who agreed to talk politics.

“We finally don’t have a— in office that are destroying our country and worrying about everybody else in the world,” said Anthony, 66, a plumbing contractor and proudly blunt-spoken New York native. (Just like Trump, he pointed out.) “I mean, his tariffs are working. The negotiations are working. I just see a lot of positive coming out of that office.”

Even so, there’s something that bothers him: The way so many fellow citizens view the president and his America First agenda.

“Most people don’t like what he says, but look what he’s doing,” Anthony said as the late-morning crowd trickled into an upscale North Scottsdale shopping center. “You can hate the person, but don’t hate the message. He’s trying to do the right thing.”

Here in central Arizona, a prime battleground in November’s midterm election, there is precious little agreement about Trump, his policies and motivations.

Supporters see the president turning things around after four disastrous years of Joe Biden. Critics see him turning the country into a place they barely recognize.

There is puzzlement on both sides.

Over what others believe. Over how others can possibly believe what they believe, see the things they see and perceive Trump the way they perceive him.

And although some are eager for the midterm elections as a way to corral the president — “I don’t think they should only impeach, I think they should imprison,” Brent Bond, a 59-year-old Scottsdale artist, said of his hopes for a Democratic Congress — others fear an end to Trump’s nearly unfettered reign.

Or that nothing will change, regardless of what happens at the polls in November.

“The fact is, Trump is going to keep Trumping until he’s done,” said Elizabeth H., who’s semiretired at age 55 after a career in financial services. “My only relief is that he’s an old, old man and he’s not going to be here forever.”

Brent Bond would like to see Trump imprisoned, not just impeached.

(Mark Z. Barabak / Los Angeles Times)

Arizona’s 1st Congressional District climbs from northeastern Phoenix to the mountainous heart of the Sonoran Desert. It takes in the affluent enclaves of Scottsdale and Paradise Valley and — where the urban sprawl finally yields to cactus, palo verde and other flora — Carefree and the Old West-themed Cave Creek.

It is the whitest, wealthiest and best-educated of Arizona’s nine congressional districts, home to numerous upscale resorts, major medical campuses and a large population of retirees comfortably settled in one of many gated communities.

Affordability, as in struggling just to get by, is not a pressing issue here.

In 2020, Biden carried the district 50% to 49%. Four years later, Trump beat Kamala Harris 51% to 48%.

(The Down Ballot, which crunches election data, rated Arizona’s 1st District the median of 435 congressional districts nationwide, meaning in 2024 half were redder on the presidential level and half were bluer.)

For more than a decade, the area has been represented by Republican Dave Schweikert, a local political fixture since the 1990s.

He’s had to fight hard for reelection in recent years as the district, like the whole of Arizona, has grown more competitive. Rather than run again, Schweikert announced he would give up his seat to try for governor. The result is a free-for-all and one of the relatively few toss-up House races anywhere in the country.

A passel of candidates is running and the result will help determine whether Democrats, who need to flip three seats, will seize control of the House in November.

Despite those high stakes, however, the race doesn’t seem to have generated much voter interest, at least not yet. In dozens of interviews across the district, it was the relentless Trump who drew the most attention, admiration and exasperation.

Moe Modjeski, a supporter, allowed as how the president “is no altar boy.”

Even so, “I’ll take his policies over someone that might be nice and polite,” said the 69-year-old Scottsdale resident, a financial advisor who cited the sky-scraping stock market as one example of Trump’s success. “I mean, gas is about half the price it was a year or two ago.”

But for Liz R., who’s “never been a sky-is-falling type,” it certainly feels that way. The 75-year-old cited “everything from tariffs to ICE to destroying the healthcare system and controls for pollution.”

“I lived through the ‘60s and 70s and can’t remember a time when I feared so much for the future of our country,” said Liz, a retired medical technologist.

She’ll vote for a Democrat in November — to put a check on Trump, not because the Carefree resident has great faith in the party or its direction.

“I wish the Dems would get it together and maybe we could get more of a centrist that could unite and not get hung up on some of these social issues,” she said. “There’s a lot of economic issues, bread-and-butter issues, and I think that’s why the Republicans won [in 2024], because of the problems with immigration and inflation.”

As a border state, Arizona has long been at the forefront of the political fight over immigration. It was here lawmakers passed — and opponents spent years battling — legislation that effectively turned police into immigration officers, requiring them to demand the papers of anyone suspected of being in the country illegally

Thomas Campbell, with Keegan and Guinness, blamed blue-state politicians for any overreach by ICE agents.

(Mark Z. Barabak / Los Angeles Times)

Now that aggressive approach has become national policy, which is fine by Thomas Campbell, a retired architect and staunch Trump backer. He blamed any enforcement overreach on blue-state lawmakers.

“For some reason, the Democrats have decided they want to side with the criminals, so they don’t allow their police departments to cooperate,” said Campbell, 72, who stopped outside Paradise Valley’s town hall while running errands with his Irish setters, Guinness and Keegan. “If that wasn’t the case, there wouldn’t be any” controversy over ICE’s tactics.

Martha Cornelison agreed the border with Mexico needed to be secured and that serious lawbreakers should be deported.

But why, she wondered, are immigration agents scooping up honest taxpayers, parents with children born in the U.S. and others keeping on the straight and narrow?

“I think they’re going after the wrong people,” said the 76-year-old Scottsdale retiree as a friend, Lily, nodded in agreement. The two were sharing a bench in Scottsdale’s pueblo-inspired civic plaza, a nearby fountain burbling in the 80-degree sunshine.

“I think we need to look at our county jails, look at our city jails,” said Cornelison, who made her living selling large appliances. “How many illegal immigrants are, say, in Florence, which is our state prison? Send them back. Don’t go after Mr. Gonzalez who’s doing my lawn. Empty out our prisons.”

Back at the North Scottsdale shopping center, Denise F. was walking Chase, her Shih Tzu, past a parking lot brimming with Teslas, Mercedes and Cadillac SUVs.

The 73-year-old voted for Trump because she couldn’t abide Harris. But she’s disgusted with the president.

“I don’t like the division in the country. I think Trump thinks he’s a king,” said Denise, a retired banker. “He’s poking the bear with Venezuela and Greenland, Iran” — she poked the air as she named each country — “to see who he can engage in a possible war, which is not the way I think the United States should be.”

As Denise was finishing up, Anthony D., her friend and neighbor, strolled up and joined the conversation, offering his laudatory view of the president. “Trump’s a businessman and he’s running the country like a business,” Anthony said, as Denise looked on impassively.

“How did I do?” he asked after saying his piece.

“Great,” Denise replied amiably and the two walked off together, Chase between them.