Drawing Lines or Crying Lines? How Democrats Turned Redistricting into a Melodrama

 

When Democrats gerrymander, it is painted as noble reform; when Republicans do it, the sky is supposedly falling. It reminds me of the old saying, the pot cannot accuse the kettle of being blackened by the same fire it cooks with. Democrats need to understand one important fact: you cannot stop the rooster from crowing just because you dislike the morning sun.

Texas Republicans have done what political parties do best: they played the game by the rules of power. Early Saturday morning, after hours of debate, they approved a new congressional map that shifts the battlefield in their favor. It was no small feat; the GOP-controlled state Senate forced the bill to a vote, blocking a Democratic senator’s attempt at a filibuster. In that moment, the ink dried not just on paper but on the Democrats’ tears.

The new map positions Republicans to gain as many as five additional seats in Congress, aiming to increase their total from 25 to 30. With only a three-seat majority in the U.S. House, those new Texas lines are like oxygen to a party fighting to keep control. Governor Greg Abbott is poised to sign the bill, locking in what Democrats call a “power grab” and what Republicans call simply winning the game by the rules on the table.

But instead of acknowledging that redistricting is a tool every party uses, Democrats reacted as if Texas had pulled a rabbit from a rigged hat. California rushed to retaliate by approving a ballot measure to create five new Democratic seats, bypassing its supposedly sacred independent commission. Governor Gavin Newsom dressed it up as protecting democracy, though it looked more like a magician cutting the deck in his favor. When Democrats gerrymander, it is painted as noble reform; when Republicans do it, the sky is supposedly falling. It reminds me of the old saying, the pot cannot accuse the kettle of being blackened by the same fire it cooks with.

Democrats then turned to the courts, filing a lawsuit that called the Texas map unconstitutional and racially discriminatory. They claimed that Republicans dismantled coalition districts—areas where Black and Latino voters collectively made up a majority. Republicans denied this outright. State Senator Phil King, who drafted the legislation, made it plain: he drew the lines based only on partisan advantage, not race. He declared, “I did not take race into consideration when drawing this map. I drew it based on what would better perform for Republican candidates.” The words were simple, clear, and hard to twist, yet Democrats chose to wring them out like wet laundry.

The lawsuit pointed to coalition districts, but the Trump administration’s Department of Justice had already set the stage. The DOJ argued that coalition districts were shaky ground, citing a 2024 ruling by the 5th Circuit Court of Appeals. That ruling said the Voting Rights Act does not allow distinct minority groups to join forces to claim a violation. Coalition districts might still exist, but the law does not demand them. In other words, the Democrats built their case on sand and then cried foul when the tide came in.

The new Texas map even included four majority-Hispanic districts, drawn with 2024 election data, reflecting a political reality Democrats hate to acknowledge: Hispanic voters are shifting toward the GOP. Instead of facing that truth, Democrats prefer to pretend lines alone change loyalty. But you can shift the fence, you cannot stop the cattle from moving where they choose.

Still unsatisfied, Democrats argued “malapportionment.” They claimed the mid-decade redistricting unfairly weighted votes because Texas’s population has grown nearly five percent since 2020. They leaned on legal fiction, saying states should not enjoy the assumption of fairness for ten years when they voluntarily redraw maps in between censuses. Yet mid-decade redistricting is perfectly legal. Their argument boiled down to one thing: they lost, so the game must have been unfair.

Theatrics followed. Texas House Democrats fled the state for two weeks, grinding legislative business to a halt. Their absence was not free—they racked up thousands in fines while Republicans waited patiently for them to return. When they finally crawled back, House Speaker Dustin Burrows ensured they would not escape again, ordering law enforcement to chaperone them during votes. It was a kindergarten solution for a kindergarten problem. Representative Nicole Collier refused to comply, staging a three-day sit-in on the House floor. She claimed the maps would harm her constituents, but her protest resembled more of a sleepover rebellion than a substantive defense of policy. When a child cannot win the game, they often flip the board and cry that the rules were unfair.

In the Senate, one Democrat tried to filibuster, planning a last dramatic stand. Republicans cut it short with a procedural move, forcing a vote along party lines. With that, the deal was done. The ink was set. The map became reality.

The irony is impossible to miss. Democrats, who gerrymander when it suits them, suddenly declared gerrymandering to be a moral sin because this time they were the ones on the losing end. California proved the hypocrisy by redrawing its own lines to carve out five new Democratic seats—yet cloaked the move in the language of virtue. They are like gamblers who call the house crooked only after their chips are gone.

This fight in Texas is not the end; it is the beginning of a nationwide clash. The White House has pressured states like Indiana and Missouri to follow Texas’s lead. Democratic governors in New York and Illinois have promised to fight back, though they have done little beyond shaking their fists. Federal courts will wrestle with the claims. The Supreme Court has already limited challenges to partisan gerrymandering, leaving racial gerrymandering as one of the last paths to attack maps. But with recent rulings chipping away at the Voting Rights Act, even that road looks narrower than ever.

So here we are. The Republicans in Texas played their hand boldly, and Democrats chose melodrama over strategy. They ran, they wept, they sued, and they staged floor protests. In the end, the map still passed. You cannot stop the rooster from crowing just because you dislike the morning sun.

And I say this plainly: Democrats’ cries of unfairness ring hollow when their own allies in California and elsewhere pull the same tricks. The truth is simple—redistricting is politics by another name, and politics has never been a game for the faint of heart. If Democrats wanted to fight, they should have stayed in the chamber instead of fleeing it. Power respects presence, not absence. Texas Republicans showed up, pressed the button, and claimed the prize. That is how the game is played.