The Weekly Sift

Can democracy flourish, or even survive,
if two-thirds of the justices on the Supreme Court don’t believe in it?

[A previous version of this post didn’t load for some users, so I republished under a similar title.]

One of the great moments in American politics happened on March 15, 1965. It was barely a week since “Bloody Sunday“, when Alabama state police attacked civil rights demonstrators trying to cross the Edmund Pettis Bridge in Selma.

Police (and non-police actors like slave patrols or the Ku Klux Klan) had been beating up Black people for over 100 years, but this time it was on TV, where the whole nation could see it. Nonviolent protesters had brought the reality of oppression into the nation’s living rooms: White people could maintain their dominance, but only by being villains, by brutalizing people who posed no threat.

How would the nation respond?

President Johnson answered by addressing a joint session of Congress, saying these words in his White Texas accent:

There is no Negro problem. There is no Southern problem. There is no Northern problem. There is only an American problem. …

What happened in Selma is part of a far larger movement which reaches into every section and state of America. It is the effort of American Negroes to secure for themselves the full blessings of American life. Their cause must be our cause, too. Because it is not just Negroes, but really it’s all of us who must overcome the crippling legacy of bigotry and injustice.

And we shall overcome.

Johnson backed those words up by proposing the Voting Rights Act, which he signed into law a few months later.

Undoing that landmark piece of legislation has been the life’s work of Chief Justice John Roberts. Wednesday he finished the task.

Immediate and long-term perspectives The decision the Supreme Court released Wednesday, Louisiana v Callais (called just “Callais” in most media coverage), requires explanation both in an immediate and a long-term sense. Immediately, it blesses a practice the VRA was passed to eliminate: “cracking” minority communities and spreading them among multiple districts so that all (or nearly all) districts have a White majority. Or, looked at from the other side, Callais makes illegal the practice of intentionally gathering minority voters into a district where they might form a majority and elect a candidate of their own choosing.

Possibly immediately (if Louisiana can get away with the redistricting it now wants to do even after some absentee votes in its primary have already been mailed, and if other southern states can follow suit), but certainly by 2028, red states in the Deep South will redraw their maps so that maybe ten or so Black congresspeople are gerrymandered out of their jobs. By 2029, the congressional delegations of many Southern states may be as lily-white as they were before the VRA passed in 1965.

Bad as that outcome is, you can’t appreciate the full horror of this decision without seeing the larger context: Callais is the culmination of John Roberts’ 13-year program to repeal the VRA by judicial fiat, in contravention of the intention of the Congresses that passed it and kept renewing it. During those years, a series of corrupt decisions [1] have built on each other to get us where we are today: It is now hard to imagine any state action — no matter how racist — that could be reversed by bringing that state to court under the VRA.

In 2013’s Shelby County decision, Roberts threw out Section 5 of the VRA. Section 5 required a list of states with a history of Jim Crow election practices to get any changes to their election rules pre-cleared by the federal Justice Department. Roberts decided that this provision (which had been re-authorized by Congress as recently as 2006 and had been upheld in numerous Supreme Court precedents) violated the “equal sovereignty of the states”. He got around the precedential history by saying “things have changed dramatically” since the first version of the VRA was passed in 1965.

Here’s what I had to say about that at the time (in a piece I demurely titled “This Court Sucks“):

“Things have changed” is not a legal argument. It’s a fine point to make on a blog or at a dinner party, but a Supreme Court justice has to do better than that.

If Roberts were being a real judge here, he’d spell out what “equal sovereignty” has and hasn’t meant in American legal history. He’d enunciate an abstract standard by which Jim Crow was “exceptional” in 1965 and which justified the steps taken then. He’d explain how that standard was violated by the renewal of the VRA in 2006. And he’d lay down a set of conditions that Congress would need to satisfy to make the VRA acceptable today. (If you want to see what a real legal opinion looks like, read Justice Ginsburg’s dissent. Whether you agree with her or not, she is clearly doing something far more rigorous than what Roberts is doing.)

Roberts doesn’t do any of that. The VRA was vaguely justified in 1965 and is vaguely unjustified now, because “things have changed”. If I were a congressman, I would have no idea how to revise the VRA so that it passes constitutional muster. If Congress does revise it, lower court judges who rule on it will just be guessing about its constitutionality. It will have to go back to the Supreme Court before anyone knows whether it’s really a law again, because there are no standards in Roberts’ opinion by which a revision can be judged.

This isn’t law. It’s politics. It’s mush.

The mush has continued since. If Shelby County eliminated blocking racist election laws before they take effect, the Brnovich decision in 2021 made it harder to use Section 2 of the VRA to challenge such laws after they take effect. On a parallel track, the Rucho decision in 2019 said that partisan gerrymandering cases were “nonjusticiable”. In other words, partisan gerrymandering might be an unsavory practice, but neither the laws nor the Constitution give the courts power to do anything about it.

Sleight of hand. And that brings us to Wednesday’s Callais decision, written by Justice Alito. Once again, we are told that “things have changed”, so laws protecting minority voting rights are no longer necessary. [2] That sets up two legal sleights of hand: intent, and the confusion of partisan with racial gerrymandering.

One issue has run through the history of the VRA’s interpretation: Does the VRA only outlaw intentionally racist election practices? Or does it outlaw practices that have the effect of disenfranchising minority voters or diminishing their power, regardless of motive? The difference is important, because intent can be hard to prove in court. Many of the Jim Crow practices didn’t explicitly mention race: Poll taxes might be justified as a way to raise revenue, and the effect of discouraging poor people from voting, or the fact that Black voters are disproportionately poor — that might be portrayed as entirely accidental. Literacy tests might simply be a means of raising the quality of the average voter, unrelated to an educational system that favors White children. And so on.

This kind of thing was well understood even in 1965. [3]

As Justice Kagan explains in her dissent, the Court hobbled VRA enforcement by shifting to an “intent” interpretation in a 1980 decision. So Congress rewrote the VRA in 1982 to specify an “effects” interpretation. Alito denies that he is reinstating the “intent” view in contravention of Congress, but he is. He explicitly writes:

§2 of the VRA requires evidence giving rise to a strong inference of intentional discrimination.

The second sleight-of-hand makes use of the corrupt Rucho decision on partisan gerrymandering.

The upshot of Rucho was that, as far as federal law is concerned, a state legislature may use partisan advantage as a factor in redistricting. And litigants cannot circumvent that rule by dressing their political-gerrymandering claims in racial garb. Imposing liability “based on the racial effects of a political gerrymander in a jurisdiction in which race and partisan preference are very closely correlated . . . would, if accepted, provide a convenient way for future litigants and lower courts to sidestep our holding in Rucho that partisan-gerrymandering claims are not justiciable in federal court.” Alexander, 602 U. S., at 21. “Instead of claiming that a State impermissibly set a target Republican-Democratic breakdown, a plaintiff could simply reverse-engineer the partisan data into racial data and argue that the State impermissibly set a particular [racial] target. Our decisions cannot be evaded with such ease.”

Since intent is what matters, and a pro-Republican gerrymander looks just like a White-racist gerrymander, it’s impossible to prove racist (rather than partisan) intent. So the VRA’s protection against racial gerrymanders — effectively the last piece of the VRA still standing — is effectively dead.

But Kagan’s dissent calls Alito on his shenanigans:

[T]o its (modest) credit, the Rucho Court did not pretend that partisan gerrymanders were something in need of safeguarding. To the contrary, the Court conceded that they were “incompatible with democratic principles” and “lead to results that reasonably seem unjust.” (The Court’s rationale was only that federal courts lack competence to deal with gerrymanders, not that they were protected by law or beneficial as policy.) Today, though, the majority straight-facedly holds that the Voting Rights Act must be brought low to make the world safe for partisan gerrymanders. For how else, the majority reasons, can we preserve the authority of States to engage in this practice than by stripping minority citizens of their rights to an equal political process?

Rucho wrung its hands over partisan gerrymandering as a disreputable practice, and claimed only that the Court had no power to interfere with it. But now, Alito presents partisan gerrymandering as a state’s right, which Congress dare not impinge on and the Court is obligated to protect. There is, of course, no legal argument to back up that claim. It’s just how the Court’s Republican majority wants things to be, so Alito has slipped it between the lines. [4]

In fact, Alito has the logic exactly backwards: He says courts can’t throw out racial gerrymanders because they might accidentally throw out partisan gerrymanders. But the VRA says courts must throw out partisan gerrymanders if they have the same effect as a racial gerrymander. That’s the law as written, but under this Court, written law doesn’t mean much.

How to handle a corrupt court. Not long ago, when Democrats controlled the White House and both houses of Congress, some members of the party suggested expanding the Supreme Court to 13 justices, so that four new justices could outvote the corrupt Republican ones. This proposal never got close to implementation, because it was widely viewed as too radical. The party’s center saw raw exercises of power like that distasteful, as something dirty that we needed to keep clear of if we ever wanted to restore purity to our government.

In view of what Trump has been doing in his second term, and the increasingly aggressive partisanship of the current Supreme Court majority, that view now seems naive.

The purity viewpoint has already begun to change, as we have seen in the recent gerrymandering battle. Democrats could have clutched their pearls and held onto their purity as Texas made five Democratic seats in Congress vanish. But Gavin Newsom decided to fight fire with fire in California, and the state’s voters backed him up. More recently in Virginia, “centrist” Governor Abigail Spanberger made the same choice, and the electorate of her swing state agreed.

Legal purists worry about the Supreme Court losing authority if it is seen as just another political branch of government. But that’s what it already is, and public respect for it is waning, for good reasons.

We’ve been here before. In 1937, FDR called for a plan to expand the Supreme Court, which had been invalidating just about everything he tried to do. That proposal failed, in that it did not pass Congress. But it also succeeded in making the Court back off.

If Democrats take power again in 2029, a similar strategy is called for: Immediately pass legislation to restore voting rights, and to undo the other excesses of this corrupt Supreme Court. And have a court-expansion proposal ready to vote on if the Court tries to interfere.

The Roberts Court has become the enemy of multi-racial democracy. If we’re going to make up the ground that we’ve lost, and someday go beyond our previous accomplishments to achieve the democratic republic Americans have long envisioned, we’re not just going to have to overcome white supremacists or Republicans or oligarchs. We’re going to have to overcome a corrupt, partisan, racist Supreme Court as well.

And we shall overcome.

[1] I use the word corrupt carefully. It would be one thing if Roberts and the conservative majority that has been built around him professed some different-but-arguable legal theory that made the VRA unconstitutional or unenforceable. But I’ve been reading these decisions since Shelby County in 2013, and none of them make a recognizable legal argument. They are simply results that the Court majority wants. Josh Marshall explains:

In our thinned out political discourse people often use the term “corruption” to refer only to venal corruption – bribes, conflicts of interest mostly involving money, kept Justices like Clarence Thomas. That is neither the only nor the most significant form of corruption. In most cases venal corruption is significantly self-correcting. It gets exposed and prosecuted. The more general meaning of corruption is when a form of rot takes over an office or institution because of systemic and ingrained abuses of power. That is the case with the Supreme Court and it’s especially dangerous with the Supreme Court because a mix of history and restraint have left very few checks on its abuses. The Supreme Court is given specific powers to achieve specific ends. Over the last 15 years it has assumed vast new powers and used them consistently for anti-constitutional ends. Far from interpreting or defending the constitution it is at war with it.

[2] Justice Kagan’s dissent nails this perfectly:

So the majority moves on again, now to a grab-bag of “developments” that it somehow thinks license it to rewrite a statute. The majority first summons the slogan of Shelby County, in which the Court ordained itself the arbiter of when civil rights laws are no longer needed. “ ‘[T]hings have changed dramatically,’ ” today’s majority echoes, pointing to increases in African American voting registration and to the success of “ ‘African-Americans attain[ing] political office’ ”—“particularly in the South, where many §2 suits arise.” No doubt that is so, in large measure because of the Voting Rights Act. But it is a separate question whether those gains will endure once the Act’s protections are gone. See Shelby County, 570 U. S., at 590 (Ginsburg, J., dissenting) (noting the fallacy of “throwing away your umbrella in a rainstorm because you are not getting wet”). And surely—but apparently not—the proper actor to answer that question is Congress. … It is for the people’s representatives in Congress to decide when the Nation need no longer worry about the dilution of minority voting strength.

[3] Johnson said as much in his speech:

Every device of which human ingenuity is capable has been used to deny this right. The Negro citizen may go to register only to be told that the day is wrong, or the hour is late, or the official in charge is absent. And if he persists, and if he manages to present himself to the registrar, he may be disqualified because he did not spell out his middle name or because he abbreviated a word on the application. And if he manages to fill out an application he is given a test. The registrar is the sole judge of whether he passes this test. He may be asked to recite the entire Constitution, or explain the most complex provisions of state law. And even a college degree cannot be used to prove that he can read and write. For the fact is that the only way to pass these barriers is to show a white skin.

Experience has clearly shown that the existing process of law cannot overcome systematic and ingenious discrimination. No law that we now have on the books–and I have helped to put three of them there–can ensure the right to vote when local officials are determined to deny it.

So the VRA was designed to go beyond “the existing process of law”. That is precisely what Roberts, Alito, and their allies have undone, because (in their judgment and their judgment alone) “things have changed”.

[4] It’s tempting to give a pass to the Republican judges who didn’t write on this topic: Kavanaugh, Gorsuch, and Barrett. But they had to see the logical holes in this argument, and they then chose to vote for it without posting a dissent on any particular.