Eleven hours.
That’s how long it took for Alabama’s lieutenant governor to propose a map that would effectively ensure no Black person represents the state in Congress.
On Wednesday, the U.S. Supreme Court gutted much of what was left of the Voting Rights Act.
That evening, Lt. Gov. Will Ainsworth shared a map on Instagram that would take representation for Black Alabamians in Congress from two to zero.
“Alabama Republicans control both U.S. Senate seats, all constitutional offices, every state judgeship, and have legislative supermajorities, so it makes perfect sense for us to hold every congressional seat, too,” Ainsworth wrote beneath the map. “We are (sic) bright red state, and our congressional map should show it.”
His congressional map wouldn’t show other things — like Black people.
Thirteen years ago, in Shelby County v. Holder, Justice Samuel Alito wrote that the Voting Rights Act’s protections weren’t needed anymore because the South had outgrown its old habits. “Vast social change has occurred throughout the country and particularly in the South, where many suits arise,” he wrote.
We don’t have poll taxes anymore, so mission accomplished?
This week, in Louisiana v. Callais, the same court finished the job — narrowing the Voting Rights Act so far that, as Justice Elena Kagan wrote in dissent, future plaintiffs alleging racial discrimination in mapmaking will find it nearly impossible to prevail.
Unfortunately, regression is social change, too. It’s Alabama’s default setting, and if left to do what it wants by the federal courts, the state might backslide all the way to the Confederacy.
When the Shelby decision freed Alabama from federal pre-clearance, the state rushed to enact a photo Voter ID law — and then attempted to close driver’s license offices in majority-Black counties.
This time around, the regression is rolling even faster.
Alabama is not a state divided between red and blue, but rather, Black and white. It only looks red and blue (mostly red) on the election maps.
Each election year, the Black Belt — named for the fertile dark soil that fed cotton plantations — stands out on the map like a scar left over from its antebellum past. The region, made up of majority-Black or nearly majority-Black counties, doesn’t go along with the rest of the state politically.
The proposed districts Ainsworth shared would divide those counties, where Black people have something resembling political parity, among five majority-white congressional districts.
The Black Belt would still be there, of course. You just wouldn’t be able to see it.
The Supreme Court has said it’s not OK to discriminate by race when drawing district maps. Years ago, it said that discriminating by party is fine.
Unfortunately, in Alabama, those might as well be the same thing.
All but three Democrats in the Alabama Legislature are Black. All but one of the Republicans there are white. Among the statewide offices Ainsworth mentioned in his post, every elected official is white.
Of 27 statewide judges, one is Black — appointed to fill the seat of a white judge who stepped down. Before that, none. Roughly one in four people in Alabama are Black, by the way.
By Alito’s measure, this counts as progress.
And by Ainsworth’s Instagram post, it constitutes overrepresentation.
Ainsworth called for redrawing Alabama’s maps early, but he wasn’t the last and he wasn’t alone. The day Callais came down, Gov. Kay Ivey said she wouldn’t call a special session. Two days later, she did — for Monday. The same governor who once asked Black Alabamians to forgive her for having lied about wearing blackface in college is now ready to take away the congressional representation they have.
Among the benefits of being a lame duck is that she doesn’t have to pretend anymore.
Lost in this rush is the small fact that the party primaries are happening right now — not in three weeks. Absentee ballots have already gone out. People have already voted. Lost, too, is that the Supreme Court’s decision may not even apply here.
Alabama is under a federal court order to keep its current map until 2030, The state has asked the high court to reconsider in light of Callais. Typically, it takes longer than three years for the Supreme Court to overrule itself, but these are strange times, when such things have become more common.
Regardless, Ainsworth has shown us what comes when the court’s protection is taken away — whether that’s this year or in 2030.
Alabama is a handcart perched backward on a hill, waiting for its rusty brakes to give way.
And for some people, the past can’t get here fast enough.