Gerrymander & Gall: Why Texas Is Right and Its Critics Are Running
AustinLiberator
The state of Texas, ever the bastion of independence, finds itself once more at the center of America’s constitutional crossroads. In the heat of the 2025 summer, the Texas legislature moved decisively to redraw its congressional map, with the possibility of shifting as many as five seats toward Republican control. Predictably, cries of foul play erupted from the opposition. But instead of staying to fight with reason, over fifty Democratic legislators fled—not just from the House floor, but from the state itself—to Illinois, a state whose own electoral maps have long been branded some of the most egregiously gerrymandered in the nation.
The irony is as rich as the soil of the Brazos Valley. Those who decry alleged injustice in Texas seek shelter in a state that gifts its ruling party 14 of 17 congressional seats despite near-even voter registration. If the measure of political morality is fairness in district drawing, then those fleeing to Illinois have set up camp inside a glass house.
Let us speak plainly. The Constitution grants states the authority to oversee their own elections, including redistricting, under Article I, Section 4. This is not a loophole or a relic—it is a structural pillar of federalism. The Tenth Amendment reinforces it. And for over two centuries, the U.S. Supreme Court has affirmed that states hold this power, provided they do not violate core constitutional protections like equal population and racial fairness.
In Rucho v. Common Cause (2019), the Supreme Court made clear that partisan gerrymandering is a political question beyond the reach of federal courts. The ruling didn’t bless the practice, but it acknowledged reality: in a republic, the people must remedy political abuses through elections, not judicial fiat. If Democrats in Texas dislike the proposed map, they should win elections and redraw it themselves—not flee the state and undermine democratic process.
Meanwhile, the Voting Rights Act (particularly Section 2) remains intact and enforceable. If Texas’ new map were to intentionally dilute minority voting strength, then courts would have the tools to act—and have, as seen in Allen v. Milligan (2023), where Alabama was ordered to draw an additional majority-Black district. But such claims must be proven, not presumed.
Texas is acting within the bounds of law. Its map follows the "one person, one vote" mandate laid down in Reynolds v. Sims (1964) and Wesberry v. Sanders (1964). And no court—not the Fifth Circuit, not the Supreme Court—has found the current proposals to be racially discriminatory or constitutionally infirm.
To be clear: redistricting is political. It always has been. From Elbridge Gerry’s salamander-shaped districts to Illinois’s serpentine lines today, map-making reflects political power. The Supreme Court has said so. The federal circuits have said so. And history bears it out.
But there is a world of difference between what is unseemly and what is unlawful. Texas’ critics conflate the two. The map may advantage Republicans—but so does Illinois' map advantage Democrats. Both are legal. And in a country that places its faith in elections, the remedy is not flight—it is the ballot.
As Texans, we do not shrink from political conflict. We debate. We vote. We win and lose. But we do not run. The right to draw congressional districts belongs to the people of Texas through their elected legislature. Until and unless that process breaches federal law, it is not only legitimate—it is sacred.
So let those who fled to Illinois look around and see the gerrymandering that props up their hosts. Let them reflect on the hypocrisy of seeking sanctuary in the very system they claim to despise. And let them know that here in Texas, we stand on solid constitutional ground. The map is ours to draw. And we shall draw it.
- David Crockett | The Austin Liberator