In the spring of 1991 Texas State Representative Kevin Bailey killed an Enron bill. The freshman Democrat from Houston had been advised by his veteran campaign manager to play ball with the company, which at that point was still just a natural-gas-pipeline concern. But Bailey didn’t listen, and it very nearly ended his career. In 1992 he found himself in a primary fight against an Enron-recruited candidate, who promptly used Enron cash to hire away Bailey’s own campaign manager. When Bailey narrowly won that contest, Enron tried to unseat him again in 1994. Bailey survived, but he was chastened. Even then, “Ken Lay had a lot of influence,” he said. “People were afraid to mess with him, because they always knew he’d try to get you.” In subsequent years, Enron grew steadily more powerful in Texas. The company rose in tandem with the state Republican Party, which has been lavishly bankrolled by Enron executives and PACs. By 1999, when the Republicans, led by George W. Bush, swept every statewide Democratic official out of office and seized control of the State Senate for the first time since Reconstruction, Enron was sitting at the top of the heap, the king of the lobby.
That was the year Enron pushed its holy grail, deregulation of retail electricity, through the Texas legislature. Through its joint venture, the New Power Company, Enron stood to make a bundle when competition officially began in January of this year–if only the company were around to see it. Instead, Lay and his wife are fighting for liquidity, and the state’s top Republican officials are heading into an election year with a Texas-size albatross around their necks. Governor Rick Perry has taken more than $227,075 from the company, including a $25,000 check from Ken Lay delivered the day after Perry appointed a former Enron executive, Max Yzaguirre, to head the Texas Public Utility Commission. Yzaguirre resigned under pressure on January 18, but Perry says he will not be returning the money. Neither will Republican Attorney General John Cornyn, who has received $193,000 from Enron. Cornyn recused himself from the state’s investigation of the meltdown, though so far there has been little activity on that front. State Comptroller Carole Keeton Rylander, the elected official who oversees the collection of taxes from companies like Enron, has received $63,000 in contributions. Enron is also the largest corporate contributor to the current membership of the Texas Supreme Court, whose justices are elected in expensive partisan races and where some portion of the coming Enron litigation may very well wind up.
Already some veteran politicos are invoking the dreaded name of Sharpstown, the Texas banking scandal of the early 1970s. In the wake of that disaster, voters replaced virtually every incumbent statewide elected official, as well as half the sitting legislators. As the current election season gets under way, each new revelation in the morning paper has campaign consultants scrambling to uncover who got what from Enron over the past decade, and what Enron got in return.
In Houston, Enron’s money went to art museums, opera houses and hospitals; in Austin, it went to politicians. “Lay and the big executives were absolutely everywhere in political circles,” Democratic lobbyist Patrick Woodson said. “I mean, Enron’s influence was just enormous.” For the better part of a decade, Enron applied that influence with single-minded purpose toward one goal: cracking open the lock that the state’s investor-owned utilities, principally Texas Utilities and Houston Lighting and Power, had on retail electricity sales–and on Texas politics.