Supreme Showdown: GOP Accuses California of Racial Gerrymander Power Grab

Paul Riverbank, 1/24/2026GOP alleges racial gerrymandering in California; Supreme Court showdown could set national precedent.

Republicans in the state insist this isn’t just your run-of-the-mill squabble over partisanship. Led by John Sauer, California's solicitor general, the GOP claims District 13 was deliberately carved out to tip the scales by boosting Latino votes—a move they argue crosses a constitutional line. The central complaint, repeated in filings and press conferences alike, is that this was less about party advantage and more a calculated use of racial demographics. Their case hinges partly on a fragment of courtroom testimony: the map designer Paul Mitchell, when pressed under oath, admitted he aimed to “bolster Latino districts in the Central Valley to make them most effective.” Republicans have wielded that line like a cudgel, suggesting it’s undeniable proof the district’s borders were dictated by ethnicity, not politics.

Of course, California Democrats aren’t backing down. They contend this lawsuit is more bruised ego than genuine grievance—a misdirection after setbacks at the ballot box, rather than an honest concern for voter fairness. Democratic lawyers, along with state officials, argue that the accusation of racial gerrymandering is little more than smoke and mirrors. For their part, they maintain that the real driver here was plain old partisanship—a time-honored, if cynical, hallmark of American mapmaking. The argument has some history: last year’s map out of Texas, which the Supreme Court let stand by a 6-3 margin despite similar complaints from Democrats, wasn’t upended on race grounds. There too, justices pointed to motives rooted firmly in party politics.

Governor Gavin Newsom, rarely one to miss a chance for commentary, positioned California’s response as direct payback for Texas’ recent shifts. “Donald Trump called up Greg Abbott and demanded more MAGA seats in Congress,” Newsom posted online, throwing a touch of spectacle into an already tense affair. Proposition 50, which underpinned the state's redistricting process, sailed through with a resounding 64% endorsement from California voters after Newsom’s promise to counterbalance Texas.

But getting a new map on the books wasn’t the end—it’s just the beginning of the legal wrangling. Republicans are now hoping the Supreme Court will see things their way, arguing any map—even one sold as a partisan response—can’t use race as a blueprint. Sauer boldly asserted in court that unlike the Texas case, California’s District 13 displays, in his words, a “fatal constitutional flaw,” the borders laid down in clear response to the Latino population’s numbers.

The clock is ticking. Candidate declarations for the 2026 midterms open in February, and the Supreme Court gave the state until January 29 to justify itself. If the high court orders a halt, Democrats could potentially lose five seats—no small prize with the congressional balance ever in play.

But Republicans shouldn’t start celebrating just yet, at least according to outside observers. Rick Hasen, who teaches election law at UCLA, has doubts the challenge will get much traction. He points out—reasonably—that the case’s late filing, aggressive demands, and focus on partisanship (not race) make victory unlikely. Two federal judges who reviewed the dispute earlier this month seemed to agree. “Evidence of any racial motivation driving redistricting is exceptionally weak, while… partisan motivations are overwhelming,” Judges Joseph Staton and Wesley Hsu concluded, a line buried in the footnotes of a lengthy ruling.

Still, with a major voting rights case out of Louisiana unresolved, California’s fate sits in judicial limbo. Interestingly, each twist in the legal story seems to echo farther than just the Central Valley. Both sides sense that whatever the court decides could become precedent for years—if not decades—of redistricting battles nationwide.

As deadlines loom and both camps dig in, what’s at stake goes well beyond who represents the orchards and oil fields of the Central Valley. It’s a trial run for defining the rules of engagement in America’s ongoing struggle over maps, power, and the meaning of representation itself.

The redrawing of California’s congressional map isn’t just a question of boundary lines; it’s become a high-stakes dispute now sitting before the Supreme Court. The flashpoint? A district stretching awkwardly across the Central Valley, whose shape has prompted as much speculation as its political impact.Republicans in the state insist this isn’t just your run-of-the-mill squabble over partisanship. Led by John Sauer, California's solicitor general, the GOP claims District 13 was deliberately carved out to tip the scales by boosting Latino votes—a move they argue crosses a constitutional line. The central complaint, repeated in filings and press conferences alike, is that this was less about party advantage and more a calculated use of racial demographics. Their case hinges partly on a fragment of courtroom testimony: the map designer Paul Mitchell, when pressed under oath, admitted he aimed to “bolster Latino districts in the Central Valley to make them most effective.” Republicans have wielded that line like a cudgel, suggesting it’s undeniable proof the district’s borders were dictated by ethnicity, not politics.Of course, California Democrats aren’t backing down. They contend this lawsuit is more bruised ego than genuine grievance—a misdirection after setbacks at the ballot box, rather than an honest concern for voter fairness. Democratic lawyers, along with state officials, argue that the accusation of racial gerrymandering is little more than smoke and mirrors. For their part, they maintain that the real driver here was plain old partisanship—a time-honored, if cynical, hallmark of American mapmaking. The argument has some history: last year’s map out of Texas, which the Supreme Court let stand by a 6-3 margin despite similar complaints from Democrats, wasn’t upended on race grounds. There too, justices pointed to motives rooted firmly in party politics.Governor Gavin Newsom, rarely one to miss a chance for commentary, positioned California’s response as direct payback for Texas’ recent shifts. “Donald Trump called up Greg Abbott and demanded more MAGA seats in Congress,” Newsom posted online, throwing a touch of spectacle into an already tense affair. Proposition 50, which underpinned the state's redistricting process, sailed through with a resounding 64% endorsement from California voters after Newsom’s promise to counterbalance Texas.But getting a new map on the books wasn’t the end—it’s just the beginning of the legal wrangling. Republicans are now hoping the Supreme Court will see things their way, arguing any map—even one sold as a partisan response—can’t use race as a blueprint. Sauer boldly asserted in court that unlike the Texas case, California’s District 13 displays, in his words, a “fatal constitutional flaw,” the borders laid down in clear response to the Latino population’s numbers.The clock is ticking. Candidate declarations for the 2026 midterms open in February, and the Supreme Court gave the state until January 29 to justify itself. If the high court orders a halt, Democrats could potentially lose five seats—no small prize with the congressional balance ever in play.But Republicans shouldn’t start celebrating just yet, at least according to outside observers. Rick Hasen, who teaches election law at UCLA, has doubts the challenge will get much traction. He points out—reasonably—that the case’s late filing, aggressive demands, and focus on partisanship (not race) make victory unlikely. Two federal judges who reviewed the dispute earlier this month seemed to agree. “Evidence of any racial motivation driving redistricting is exceptionally weak, while… partisan motivations are overwhelming,” Judges Joseph Staton and Wesley Hsu concluded, a line buried in the footnotes of a lengthy ruling.Still, with a major voting rights case out of Louisiana unresolved, California’s fate sits in judicial limbo. Interestingly, each twist in the legal story seems to echo farther than just the Central Valley. Both sides sense that whatever the court decides could become precedent for years—if not decades—of redistricting battles nationwide.As deadlines loom and both camps dig in, what’s at stake goes well beyond who represents the orchards and oil fields of the Central Valley. It’s a trial run for defining the rules of engagement in America’s ongoing struggle over maps, power, and the meaning of representation itself.