Liberal Justices on Collision Course with Constitution in ICE Detainer Showdown

Paul Riverbank, 12/13/2025Federalism’s fault lines: immigration, redistricting, and voter data battles reshape power in America.

On the opposing side, conservative analysts, like O’Donnell, are unflinching. “Federal supremacy has 230 years behind it; you can't outmaneuver that,” he said—a line that almost sounds rehearsed, but it’s a fair summary of the legal canon. He reminds us, and the justices, that ICE detainers, by their letter, are requests. They ask jails to hold people temporarily—48 hours tops—so immigration agents can, in theory, catch up. “Explicitly authorized,” O’Donnell insists, invoking the Supremacy Clause, that old standby of constitutional law students everywhere.

But the law isn’t always that tidy in practice. Federal courts have repeatedly landed on a nuanced point: yes, federal law gives the green light for these detainers, but states and counties aren’t strictly shackled to them. The Tenth and Third Circuits are clear on this dance: a state can choose to comply, or not, but can’t issue a blanket ban. The real tension unspools not just in these chambers, but across the country as local and federal interests square off.

Elsewhere, under Maryland’s buzzing fluorescent lights, state lawmakers and public commenters gather for a hearing that’s almost as much theater as it is policy. In the crowded room, people argued over new congressional maps—maps that would, by design or by fate, carve out Maryland’s only Republican seat. The public microphone told one story, packed with speakers championing the plan, but if you sift through the written comments—carefully tallied, mind you—124 objected while just 31 favored it. Danny Schaible, a Democrat from Hyattsville’s council, said it outright: he hates gerrymandering but sees it as a grim necessity given the partisan climate. Others, perhaps more weary, sounded alarms about deepening national divides—how much further can things spiral before no one recognizes the game?

Governor Wes Moore kept his cards close. At a recent event, he observed the process from a distance, declaring the vote a legislative matter—not his personal crusade. That’s the reality of politics: high principle in the headlines, careful steps behind the curtain. As committee recommendations head for the General Assembly, and as party leaders jockey for influence, the line between map-making and power-grabbing blurs by the day.

Another skirmish is playing out over federal authority, with the Justice Department suing no less than 18 states, plus Fulton County in Georgia, for refusing to release detailed voter rolls. Their rationale? The nation depends on election integrity, and states must comply with federal law. But not everyone is convinced. Colorado, for instance, isn’t budging. Secretary of State Griswold doesn’t mince words. For her, handing over sensitive voter information is off the table, especially if it might end up in partisan hands. Hawaii and Wisconsin echo similar concerns, arguing that their own statutes block full disclosure.

This standoff raises more than legal questions—it pits trust in institutions against rising cynicism. States claim they’re protecting privacy and local autonomy. The federal government insists it must uphold laws that guarantee fair elections. Neither side seems eager to blink first.

All told, federalism’s tensions cut deep on both immigration and elections, in legislative chambers and courts, in headlines and in the quieter spaces where policy unfolds. Whether it’s the authority to draw congressional maps or the right to safeguard voter data, the same old questions linger near the surface. Who truly holds power, and on whose behalf is it ever really exercised? Most days, the answers are murky, and they shift with each election cycle—a reminder that the rules of American democracy aren’t set in marble, but are forever subject to the push and pull of people, power, and principle.

If you’re glancing at Wisconsin’s headlines this week, the Supreme Court there is once again in the political spotlight. This time, it’s not a budget fight or another voting rights skirmish—it's a legal showdown that blends immigration enforcement with the nuances of state power. The court, freshly realigned after a contentious change in its ideological make-up, made waves when it decided to take on the matter of ICE detainers: should local jails detain immigrants at the request of federal agents, even when there’s no judge-signed warrant? The ACLU stepped forward, as it so often does, representing a cluster of immigrant advocacy groups who argue that these detentions stretch the law thin, if not outright snap it.On the opposing side, conservative analysts, like O’Donnell, are unflinching. “Federal supremacy has 230 years behind it; you can't outmaneuver that,” he said—a line that almost sounds rehearsed, but it’s a fair summary of the legal canon. He reminds us, and the justices, that ICE detainers, by their letter, are requests. They ask jails to hold people temporarily—48 hours tops—so immigration agents can, in theory, catch up. “Explicitly authorized,” O’Donnell insists, invoking the Supremacy Clause, that old standby of constitutional law students everywhere.But the law isn’t always that tidy in practice. Federal courts have repeatedly landed on a nuanced point: yes, federal law gives the green light for these detainers, but states and counties aren’t strictly shackled to them. The Tenth and Third Circuits are clear on this dance: a state can choose to comply, or not, but can’t issue a blanket ban. The real tension unspools not just in these chambers, but across the country as local and federal interests square off.Elsewhere, under Maryland’s buzzing fluorescent lights, state lawmakers and public commenters gather for a hearing that’s almost as much theater as it is policy. In the crowded room, people argued over new congressional maps—maps that would, by design or by fate, carve out Maryland’s only Republican seat. The public microphone told one story, packed with speakers championing the plan, but if you sift through the written comments—carefully tallied, mind you—124 objected while just 31 favored it. Danny Schaible, a Democrat from Hyattsville’s council, said it outright: he hates gerrymandering but sees it as a grim necessity given the partisan climate. Others, perhaps more weary, sounded alarms about deepening national divides—how much further can things spiral before no one recognizes the game?Governor Wes Moore kept his cards close. At a recent event, he observed the process from a distance, declaring the vote a legislative matter—not his personal crusade. That’s the reality of politics: high principle in the headlines, careful steps behind the curtain. As committee recommendations head for the General Assembly, and as party leaders jockey for influence, the line between map-making and power-grabbing blurs by the day.Another skirmish is playing out over federal authority, with the Justice Department suing no less than 18 states, plus Fulton County in Georgia, for refusing to release detailed voter rolls. Their rationale? The nation depends on election integrity, and states must comply with federal law. But not everyone is convinced. Colorado, for instance, isn’t budging. Secretary of State Griswold doesn’t mince words. For her, handing over sensitive voter information is off the table, especially if it might end up in partisan hands. Hawaii and Wisconsin echo similar concerns, arguing that their own statutes block full disclosure.This standoff raises more than legal questions—it pits trust in institutions against rising cynicism. States claim they’re protecting privacy and local autonomy. The federal government insists it must uphold laws that guarantee fair elections. Neither side seems eager to blink first.All told, federalism’s tensions cut deep on both immigration and elections, in legislative chambers and courts, in headlines and in the quieter spaces where policy unfolds. Whether it’s the authority to draw congressional maps or the right to safeguard voter data, the same old questions linger near the surface. Who truly holds power, and on whose behalf is it ever really exercised? Most days, the answers are murky, and they shift with each election cycle—a reminder that the rules of American democracy aren’t set in marble, but are forever subject to the push and pull of people, power, and principle.