Dark Money in Alabama
Dark money rarely makes a big splash. Instead, it stealthily weaves its way through PAC filings and financial records. Occasionally, though, it becomes apparent—like now, as Alabama finds itself in the spotlight.
One figure played a key role in reshaping the Supreme Court—not through the usual channels, but by rallying local supporters and creating a web of nonprofit fronts. Katherine Robertson’s campaign is currently benefiting from this influence. Yet, the narrative extends much further. Alabama has emerged as a critical front in the broader national struggle for legal control.
This discussion draws from public records in states including Alabama, Virginia, Texas, Arizona, and Wisconsin, as well as campaign finance reports and IRS documents.
Recent Developments in Alabama
On June 30, Katherine Robertson’s Attorney General disclosed a significant transaction—one month later, Principles Action, Inc. reported a $1 million donation, followed by an additional $100,000. Both contributions are officially listed with the state of Alabama.
That totals $1.1 million from an organization without any established ties to Alabama. Its Nashville address corresponds with that of First Principles PAC. Federal filings reveal that its funding primarily originates from the Lexington Fund, a Virginia nonprofit operating under an array of aliases.
A close associate in Leo’s network described Robertson as “hand-picked” for this race. When directly asked, she didn’t deny the assertion.
For Alabama, the issue transcends just the funds involved; it points to a system that enables them. A national empire of dark money aiming to infiltrate state governance and the judicial system, all while cloaked in aliases.
Leonard Leo: The Strategic Player
Leonard Leo is a figure who thrives in the shadows. With a thoughtful demeanor and glasses that suggest intellect, he has built his career in Washington by cultivating connections rather than seeking the limelight. His brilliance lies in placement, transforming the Federalist Society from a gathering for conservative law students into a major judicial network.
By 2016, when Donald Trump needed a credible conservative, Leo was there. He provided Trump with a vetted list of Supreme Court candidates, resulting in the appointments of Neil Gorsuch, Brett Kavanaugh, and Amy Coney Barrett.
These appointments have significantly impacted American law, overturning precedents such as Roe v. Wade and challenging environmental protections. For Trump, Leo offered legitimacy and a legacy; for Leo, Trump was a means to achieve enduring institutional influence.
However, that alliance now appears strained. Trump publicly criticized Leo and the Federalist Society’s orbit in May, expressing frustration over their perceived lack of loyalty. Leo’s associates now view Trump as reckless, leading to a split between those loyal to Trump and those committed to longer-term causes.
This division has implications for Alabama. While Trump’s supporters may grab headlines, it’s Leo’s network that’s making substantial investments there. If Katherine Robertson secures the Attorney General position, she won’t merely be a Trump appointee—she’ll embody Leo’s influence.
A Major Financial Backer
If Leo serves as the mastermind, billionaire Bale Seid is the financial backbone. Seid, a largely anonymous industrialist from Chicago, has amassed significant wealth in electronics manufacturing. In 2022, he donated a staggering $1.6 billion to Leo—marking the largest political contribution in U.S. history.
This unprecedented donation instantly altered the dynamics of influence, turning it into an expansive empire.
You could liken it to the vast fortunes amassed by Railroad Barons during America’s industrial age. Just as figures like Jay Gould and Cornelius Vanderbilt established their economic control, Leo’s network seeks to shape state courts and legislatures through legal and political strategies. The approach has evolved, but the essence remains the same: wealth is concentrated in a few systems that dictate the direction of the broader society.
According to federal filings, First Principles raised over $2 million in the early part of 2025, mostly sourced from the Lexington Fund. The PAC funds were deposited into Chain Bridge Bank, a Virginia-based institution that specializes in political financing.
The pattern is evident. Money flows from shadowy entities like Lexington to campaigns like Robertson’s via PACs like First Principles.
Disguised Operations
Leo’s influence stems not only from his wealth but from his cunning use of aliases.
The formula is straightforward: establish a nonprofit and register it under various assumed names to appear as grassroots initiatives. In reality, these are merely facades for a small group of operatives.
In Texas, for example, 85 funds have adopted names like Honest Election Projects and Judicial Education Projects.
Virginia’s Lexington Fund, founded in 2023, filed under a variety of aliases, including the Alliance for Consumer Behavior and the Judicial Crisis Network Fund.
Similarly, other organizations like the 501(c)(3) Publicus Fund sought aliases that imply broad civic engagement. However, they work as part of one overarching machine.
The Key Operatives
If Leo is the strategist, then his operatives are what keeps the empire functioning.
Oramel H. Skinner, a sharp attorney with grand ambitions, has connections to both the Lexington and Pavlius applications. His career trajectory illustrates the revolving door between state positions and nonprofit advocacy.
Neil Coker has been known as a financial manager for Leo-associated groups over the years. His working background helps maintain continuity, allowing the network to survive scrutiny while obscuring donor identities.
Peter Bisbee, a veteran operative, founded First Principles Action and previously led the Republican Attorneys General Association. His involvement directly ties Robertson’s campaign to a larger initiative aimed at producing a cadre of attorneys general aligned with Leo’s vision.
Then there’s Kayla Glaze, relatively new to the scene. Listed as the treasurer for First Principles PAC, her recent report showed millions being raised and spent rapidly. She represents a new generation of operatives, bringing fresh expertise to keep the money flowing.
Lessons from Arizona
Arizona exemplifies a tested battleground. While serving as Attorney General, Skinner led multi-state lawsuits against federal authorities regarding immigration, voting rights, and reproductive choices. Now, his name pops up in relation to Leo’s nonprofit activities, highlighting the blurred lines between public office and private advocacy.
The takeaway is clear: the connection from government to dark money operations is no mere coincidence; it’s a deliberate strategy.
Wisconsin’s Model
Wisconsin demonstrates how this model effectively works. Conservative networks, including the Judicial Crisis Network, have invested millions into state Supreme Court races over the last decade. Consequently, a conservative majority has upheld gerrymandering and limited voting rights.
When a progressive majority emerged in 2023, the network didn’t hold back; they rebranded and adapted. New identities, like Save Our States and Honest Elections, are now operating under the same auspices as Publicus and Lexington.
The lessons are evident: when the network encounters resistance, it simply rebrands and re-engages until it reestablishes control.
A Broader Context
This situation is not solely about Katherine Robertson. It reflects a broader strategy that has been in the works for decades. Arizona has produced operatives, Wisconsin has tested election strategies, and Texas and Virginia have constructed systemic frameworks. Now, Alabama represents the latest theater of this ongoing conflict.
This process is how democracy is subtly undermined. It often unfolds through the gradual infiltration of dark money rather than through any abrupt collapse. Long-standing entities, applications, and candidates are groomed to serve interests that extend beyond their stated missions.
The evidence is irrefutable: aliases, Nashville offices, a monumental financial backing, and strategically selected candidates. The implications are stark and clear.
Just as the railway tycoons of a bygone era wielded control over transportation and commerce, today’s dark money empires are shaping legal frameworks. The resistance came from public dissent and reform, rather than from a change of heart among the wealthy. Leo’s empire follows a similar trajectory, but with laws rather than train tracks as the tools of influence.
The central question remains: Will we recognize and confront this design before it shapes our future? Alabama isn’t just navigating a race for Attorney General; it’s confronting the forces of a National Empire intent on crafting laws from behind the curtain.
This circumstance signifies more than traditional politics. It tests whether American justice will be aimed at serving the people or become the private asset of a select few.