One of the most important realities of American life is this: No nation can fully undo the effects of 345 years of state-sanctioned bigotry — from slavery to Jim Crow — in 59 years. The time period between the arrival of the first slaves on colonial shores in 1619 and the abolition of legalized discrimination with the passage of the Civil Rights Act in 1964 is simply too long, the discrimination too ingrained and the distortion of society too great to wave the wand of legal and cultural reform and quickly realize the dream of American equality.
At the same time, there’s another vital American reality: Through grit, determination and immense courage, Black Americans and other marginalized communities have made immense gains, the hearts of countless white Americans have indeed changed and America is a far better and fairer place than it was in even the recent past.
And now, at last, in the vital area of voting rights, Supreme Court authority reflects both these truths.
Earlier this month, the Supreme Court issued a ruling in a case called Allen v. Milligan that surprised many legal observers by striking down an Alabama redistricting map that would have preserved the state’s recent tradition of maintaining only one majority Black district out of seven in a state with a 27 percent Black population.
Voting in Alabama is extremely racially polarized. For example, in the 2020 presidential election, 91 percent of Black voters in the state voted for Joe Biden, while only 20 percent of white voters did so. In practice, this persistent polarization, combined with GOP-drawn district maps, has meant that Black voters were able to elect only one of Alabama’s seven congressional representatives.
Voting rights jurisprudence is extremely complicated, but I’ll do my best to be succinct and accurate in describing both the issues and one key reason for the surprise: The author of the majority opinion in Allen — which, again, generally cheered liberals and disappointed conservatives — was Chief Justice John Roberts. Ten years ago, he had written one of the most contentious Supreme Court opinions of the 21st century, Shelby County v. Holder.
In Shelby County, a sharply divided 5-to-4 court gutted key provisions of the Voting Rights Act of 1965 by striking down elements of Section 4 that required the federal government to “preclear” or preapprove changes to the voting laws of a limited number of American states, counties and townships, essentially placing these jurisdictions under federal supervision to prevent them from enacting (or, more precisely, re-enacting) discriminatory voting laws. Each of the jurisdictions had an especially pernicious history of racial discrimination in voting.
The states included seven of the old Confederacy, plus Alaska and Arizona, as well as a handful of counties and towns in other states (including the counties of New York, Bronx and Kings, or Brooklyn, in New York City, each of which had extraordinarily low Hispanic voter registration rates as well as a legacy of English literacy tests). In 1966, the Supreme Court had upheld the Voting Rights Act in an 8-to-1 decision, holding that “exceptional conditions can justify legislative measures not otherwise appropriate.”
In 2013, however, the Roberts court decided that some of those “exceptional conditions” no longer pertained. As Chief Justice Roberts wrote, “Census Bureau data indicate that African American voter turnout has come to exceed white voter turnout in five of the six States originally covered by §5, with a gap in the sixth State of less than one half of one percent.”
The decision didn’t gut the entire act. Section 2, which prohibits “denial or abridgment of the right of any citizen of the United States to vote” on the basis of race, remained in force. But the meaning of Section 2 has been a subject of intense debate. Gerrymandering has been at the heart of that debate.
If a state “cracks” a Black community (i.e., splits it apart into multiple districts) or “packs” one (i.e., concentrates its voters into supermajority districts) in a manner that leaves Black voters with diminished voting power, does that violate the act? It certainly does if it’s done with an explicit racial motive.
But what if the state claims that the motive isn’t racial, but partisan? The Supreme Court has long granted states greater leeway to tilt the partisan playing field, and in a 2019 case, Rucho v. Common Cause, it seemed to throw up its hands entirely, holding that complaints against partisan gerrymandering weren’t “justiciable.” In other words, the solution to partisan gerrymandering abuses should be located in the political branches of government, not the courts.
This ruling potentially created an immense opening for disguised racial gerrymanders, especially in heavily racially polarized states. Even worse, Alabama wanted the Supreme Court to modify existing precedent to give states even greater leeway in the face of claims of race discrimination. If Alabama prevailed, a Republican-dominated state could crack or pack Black communities and say that it was done not because the communities were Black, but because they were Democratic. Though the result — less Black representation in Congress — would be the same, the motive would be legal.
Or would it? In Allen, Chief Justice Roberts, Justice Brett Kavanaugh and the three Democratic-appointed justices said no, not always. Under highly racially polarized voting conditions, Supreme Court authority will require the creation of majority-minority districts when, to quote Justice Kavanaugh’s concurrence, “(i) a State’s redistricting map cracks or packs a large and ‘geographically compact’ minority population and (ii) a plaintiff’s proposed alternative map and proposed majority-minority district are ‘reasonably configured.’”
To translate the legalese: States and regions that are highly racially polarized can’t fracture or compress minority voting districts when reasonably drawn alternative maps would more closely maintain the relative power of minority voters. If anything, by reaffirming and clarifying existing precedents in the face of substantial legal doubt, the Court strengthened Section 2.
I know that’s a lot to take in, but here’s where things get interesting. If you peruse recent exit polls, you’ll quickly observe that many of the old preclearance states retain exactly the kind of racially polarized voting patterns that, thanks to the Allen ruling, can trigger judicial skepticism. I quoted Alabama’s voting stats above. But what about other old preclearance states? In 2020, 77 percent of white Louisiana voters voted for Donald Trump, and 88 percent of Black voters voted for Joe Biden. In Mississippi, 81 percent of white voters voted for Trump and 94 percent of Black voters voted for Biden. In South Carolina, 69 percent of white voters voted for Trump and 92 percent of Black voters voted for Biden.
While I certainly won’t argue that most white voters in those states are racist (indeed, a supermajority of voters in South Carolina supported Tim Scott, a Black Republican, for Senate), those numbers are not the American norm. Racial polarization exists more broadly, but not to the same extent. Nationally, for example, 55 percent of white voters voted for Trump, while 92 percent of Black voters voted for Biden. In some states, such as California and New York, Joe Biden received a majority of white and Black votes.
Racially polarized voting isn’t proof of racism in any given voter’s heart. But it is part of the legacy of American bigotry and racial divisions. By preserving and clarifying the core of Section 2 of the Voting Rights Act — especially when voting is highly racially polarized — and by rejecting Alabama’s effort to limit Section 2, Chief Justice Roberts has subtly limited the reach of his own precedent. Now, thanks to Allen, many preclearance states will face greater scrutiny — unless and until their own cultural and political changes bring them closer to broader American partisan norms.
That’s the legal impact, but there’s a cultural impact as well. In a tangible way, Chief Justice Roberts, along with Justices Sonia Sotomayor, Elena Kagan, Kavanaugh and Ketanji Brown Jackson brought the court’s precedent closer in line with the nation’s reality. Our country has made real progress in addressing racist violations of voting rights. The ruling in Shelby County reflected that encouraging truth. At the same time, our nation still hasn’t cleansed itself of racism or fully addressed the legacy of bigotry. The court’s holding in Allen acknowledged that sad fact.
The law does not always align with the facts of American life, but in this case, the Supreme Court has brought it closer to proper balance. The Court is an embattled institution, yet it still retains some bipartisan wisdom. America has come so very far, so we must not despair as if all is lost. America still has so far to go, so we must not celebrate as if all is won.
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Source: Elections - nytimes.com
