In the 6–3 decision issued last month in Louisiana v. Callais, the court struck down one of Louisiana’s two majority-Black congressional districts, ruling that race had been used impermissibly in drawing the map. In doing so, the justices decimated Section 2 of the Voting Rights Act of 1965, the primary federal tool used to challenge maps that dilute the voting strength of Black and other minority communities.
The implications are immediate and far-reaching. Analysis by two voting rights organizations suggests that the South could lose more than 190 Democrat-held state legislative seats, most of them centered on majority-minority communities. The number of legislative districts where Black or Hispanic voters make up a majority of the voting-age population could drop from 342 to 202.
At the congressional level, the ruling could help Republicans secure an additional 19 House seats, according to another analysis by the same organizations. In Georgia, for example, all four Democrat-held congressional districts are majority Black by population, along with a fifth seat currently vacant due to the death of Democratic Rep. David Scott. While the state’s political competitiveness may complicate efforts to dismantle them all, the risk is real. And many purple states don’t enjoy a Black population anywhere near Georgia’s.
At the heart of the court’s ruling is the notion that race should no longer play a role in protecting voting rights. This idea rests on a false premise that the U.S. is a colorblind nation. The data tells a different story. Persistent disparities across nearly every major indicator — health, wealth, education — underscore that the conditions that gave rise to the Voting Rights Act have not disappeared. Minorities remain at the bottom in every category.
Disenfranchisement of Black and other minority voters is likely to follow the Callais decision, but the impact will extend beyond voting rights. Fewer minority-opportunity districts will mean fewer lawmakers focused on communities that have historically relied on that representation for access, investment and advocacy.
But despite the ruling, all is not lost. Greater responsibility to protect minority representation will now be placed on state and local leaders. We know that in some states that will be a daunting task, given who controls so many legislatures and governors’ offices. It is still worth putting up a fight. Here’s a framework that public officials committed to fair representation should keep in mind as they try to fight back:
First, state courts must become the primary line of defense. Many state constitutions provide broader protections than federal law, including guarantees of equal protection and free and fair elections. These provisions can and should be used to challenge discriminatory district maps. Public officials should not wait for new maps to be enacted; they should act immediately.
Second, legislatures can adopt their own voting rights statutes, modeled on laws like the California Voting Rights Act, which make it easier to prove discriminatory vote dilution and require fairer districting practices. If federal protections have weakened, state protections must be strengthened whenever possible.
Third, redistricting should not happen behind closed doors. Draft maps must be released with sufficient time for public review. The data and methods used to create them should be disclosed. Public hearings must be real opportunities for input, not procedural formalities. Groups like the Brennan Center for Justice and Common Cause have shown how public mapping tools can bring citizens into the process. That model should become the standard.
Fourth, regional coordination is essential. Lawmakers, attorneys general and local officials who support fair representation should coordinate legal strategies, share data and align responses across state lines.
Finally, voting rights should not be framed as a partisan issue. At its core, the question is whether communities — particularly Black and other minority communities — retain the ability to elect candidates of their choice. That requires sustained voter registration, candidate development and turnout efforts, coupled with a clear public narrative about fairness and representation.
History offers us a cautionary tale: After Reconstruction, the erosion of Black political power reshaped governance in the South for the worse for generations. Recovery took nearly a century. That lesson should not be ignored. The court that decided Brown v. Board of Education expanded democracy. The current court has narrowed some of the key protections enacted in the wake of that landmark ruling. What happens next will depend less on federal action and more on decisions made in statehouses, city halls and county commissions.
The ruling in Callais is not the end of fair representation. It is a test of whether those who care about democracy are prepared to defend it. The court has spoken. Now, the guardians of electoral fairness must respond.
Governing's opinion columns reflect the views of their authors and not necessarily those of Governing's editors or management.
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