Texas Republicans and their antiquated platform

The Texas Republican Party's heartiest activists did their thing over the weekend, bringing an embarrassing spotlight to a state and party that should be touting Texas successes and what we can offer the nation.

Instead, what the world sees is backward and conspiratorial thinking among a few thousand convention delegates in Houston who seem determined to define the GOP down to its least-attractive elements.

The party appears to have voted to say in its platform — the party's official, if often ignored, statement of beliefs and policy preferences — that homosexuality is an "abnormal lifestyle choice."

Did the delegates time travel to 1972 and forget to tell anyone?

Most Americans, and many Texas Republicans, disagree with every word of that description. Acceptance of LGBTQ people continues to increase, to the point that now even a majority of Republicans support same-sex marriage rights.

It's a classic case of the Texas GOP allowing its most intolerant members to drag it out of the mainstream. The party's stances on the specific issues of the day, such as what schools teach about homosexuality and how to handle transgenderism among youths, are much closer to public opinion. But it's hard to hear over the blatant bigotry.

Then, there's the conspiratorial nature of the convention. Delegates voted to declare that President Joe Biden "was not legitimately elected" because of fraud in major cities in five states. This has been proved false time and time again, and we recently learned from the congressional Jan. 6 committee that even President Donald Trump's dedicated inner circle didn't believe it.

There are consequences. Trump is still suggesting that Vice President Mike Pence could have reversed states' electoral votes and allowed states to recast their results. This warped idea needs to die, and if Trump is going to carry it into the 2024 campaign, Republicans must reject it.

The Texas Republican platform is always a favorite topic of the political media, and its effect is always overstated. Only the most fervently dedicated, those who make politics a hobby or job, become delegates and contribute to the platform — which officeholders frequently ignore.

Texas GOP delegates often take issue with those elected officials, too. For years, conventioneers were lukewarm at best about Sen. Kay Bailey Hutchison, who always brushed it off and won more votes than any other Texan. Sen. John Cornyn, booed over the weekend for embracing modest gun law changes, has won election statewide more than half a dozen times and never broken a sweat, even in a GOP primary.

Even Gov. Greg Abbott declined to appear at this year's convention, hosting a reception for delegates instead. And he just won the party's nomination over two far-right challengers with two-thirds of the vote.

So, it's the party base that's isolating itself from Republican voters. The risk for GOP officeholders is that the extremism finally catches up with them. In this year's campaigns, they'd much rather talk about inflation, energy and education. They can contrast Texas' continuing growth and success with Democratic policies driving higher prices.

Regular Republicans — and there are many, despite the extremists who take up so much oxygen — have to speak louder and clearer about what they want their party to be. Not many have the stomach for intraparty politics, but the split isn't going away. It's time for public pushback and leaders willing to take on difficult battles to chart a better course.

The fall general elections may take the party to new political heights, given the deep disappointment in Biden and economic and culture shocks hitting the country. So, Texas Republicans are probably destined to sweep the state yet again.

If they see a surprise setback this fall, it won't be because of anything the hapless Texas Democratic Party does. It will be because too many steady GOP voters don't want to litigate 2020 ad nauseam or shun their gay and lesbian friends and neighbors.