California’s political landscape is roiling this summer as Governor Gavin Newsom’s push for Proposition 50—a mid-decade redistricting initiative—sparks accusations of hypocrisy, partisan power grabs, and even calls to split the state in two. At the heart of the controversy is a November 4, 2025 special election that could fundamentally reshape California’s congressional districts and, critics say, the very principles of fair representation in the Golden State.
For decades, California’s leading “good government” nonprofits—California Common Cause, the ACLU, and the League of Women Voters—have presented themselves as the state’s moral compass on democracy. They have championed transparency, sued over unfair maps, and demanded an end to partisan gerrymandering. But as Newsom’s redistricting plan barrels forward, these same groups find themselves under fire for what some call a deafening silence—or worse, complicity.
California Common Cause, for one, was instrumental in establishing California’s independent redistricting commission. The group once declared, “California set the national gold standard for fair redistricting, and now it’s at risk of being torn down for political points.” In July 2025, the organization blasted Newsom for “attempting to copy the GOP’s playbook to boost his profile,” and called the plan “anti-democratic.” As reported by California Globe, they even hosted webinars decrying “extreme, partisan gerrymandering battles in Texas and California.” “You can’t fight gerrymandering with more gerrymandering,” Common Cause told the Pacific Evening News at the time.
Yet, this principled stand was short-lived. According to California Globe, internal communications reveal that the group’s CEO, Virginia Kase Solomon, asked leaders to refrain from criticizing gerrymandering—unless it was aimed at Republicans or President Trump. The organization then pivoted, lending a quote to Newsom’s press release: “This is not an isolated political tactic; it is part of a broader march toward authoritarianism, dismantling people-powered democracy, and stripping away the people’s ability to have a political voice and say in how they are governed.”
The ACLU of Northern and Southern California, along with the League of Women Voters of California, have also come under scrutiny. These groups, long vocal about the need for transparent, community-driven redistricting, have not filed lawsuits or taken strong public stances against Proposition 50, despite its controversial nature. Their own 2021 report, co-authored with California Common Cause, outlined best practices: “Redistricting should maximize transparency, post all testimony and maps in advance, hold at least 4 public hearings and wait a week before selecting the final maps.” The report further urged outreach to “underrepresented communities and non-English speaking communities.” Critics now point out that these guidelines have been conspicuously ignored in the rush to pass Prop 50.
The League of Women Voters, another pillar of the fair-mapping movement, has opted not to take a position on Proposition 50. “Our record on this is public and clear,” the group said, declining to weigh in as the state’s political establishment pushes forward.
Meanwhile, the redistricting debate has reignited old wounds about racial representation and political manipulation. According to California Common Cause’s redistricting history, a San Francisco legislator once told an advocate, “You are not going to put another F**g Asian in my district”—a stark reminder of the stakes and emotions tied to how lines are drawn.
Proposition 50 itself is part of a larger legislative package known as the Election Rigging Response Act. Signed by Newsom, Assembly Speaker Robert Rivas, and Senate President pro Tempore Mike McGuire, the act was conceived as a direct counter to a controversial Texas redistricting plan. The measure would allow California to redraw its congressional districts mid-decade, bypassing the state’s usual ten-year cycle. If voters approve the constitutional amendment, temporary district maps would take effect, potentially increasing Democratic seats and reducing Republican representation in Congress.
This prospect has inflamed partisan tensions. James Gallagher, Republican leader of the California State Assembly, introduced a resolution to split the state, creating a new entity comprising 35 inland counties—including much of Northern California, the Sierra Nevada, the Central Valley, and the Inland Empire. “California is run by politicians who don’t care because they don’t have to,” Gallagher declared. “They exploit our water, suppress our energy, drive up costs, and destroy our jobs. Life has become unaffordable, and now they’re trying to take away what little representation we have left.” His proposal, though nonbinding and unlikely to pass given the Democratic supermajority, reflects growing frustration among rural and conservative Californians who feel marginalized by Sacramento’s political machine.
The new state would be home to more than 10 million people, making it one of the country’s largest. Gallagher insists, “I’ve come to understand that the only way to get the attention we deserve is to seek our own statehood. With this measure, we will take the first step in that process. We will not submit to a state that deprives us of a fair voice.”
Public reaction has been fierce and divided. Letters to the editor published on August 26, 2025, reveal deep skepticism about Newsom’s motives. One critic, Martin Wilmington of Hayward, wrote, “California has 43 Democrats and nine Republicans in Congress. The new congressional maps Newsom is asking voters to approve (maps that were created in secret with no public input) have the goal of having 48 Democrats and 4 Republican members of Congress. In the 2024 election, Trump won 38% of the California vote. If Newsom has his way, the 4 Republicans would only make up 8% of the California congressional delegation. Is this what you call the spirit of democracy? I call it hypocrisy.”
Others defend Newsom’s approach as a necessary response to Republican maneuvers in Texas and elsewhere. “California is being brave and bold in protecting the ability of people to choose their leaders by neutralizing the vote-rigging actions of the Texas Legislature and Gov. Greg Abbott,” wrote Molly Hermes of El Cerrito. “Californians, stand tall and proud, and cast your vote for Proposition 50.”
Some see the measure as justified tactical retaliation. William Gilbert of Lafayette argued, “Redistricting, as blatantly initiated by Texas Republican lawmakers, is yet another ‘dirty trick’ for which one political party, dating back to at least the time of Richard Nixon, is famous. Such behavior is justified as tactical retaliation, as is Newsom’s action.”
But the process itself has left many uneasy. Critics point to the lack of public input, the secrecy surrounding the map-drawing, and the apparent disregard for the principles these same groups and leaders once championed. As Julia Gomez, staff attorney with the ACLU of Southern California, had previously asserted, “State law now prohibits drawing districts to benefit one political party over another.” Yet, that is precisely the accusation now leveled against Newsom and his allies.
As California barrels toward its November 4 vote, the state finds itself at a crossroads—not just over congressional maps, but over the meaning of democracy, representation, and the credibility of those who claim to defend them. The outcome of Proposition 50 will not only shape California’s congressional delegation but could also redefine the boundaries of public trust in the state’s democratic institutions.
