The U.S. Supreme Court’s upcoming term is shaping up to be one of the most consequential in recent memory, with a docket packed with cases that could upend decades of legal precedent and reshape the nation’s approach to voting rights, presidential authority, religious expression in schools, and same-sex marriage. At the center of this legal maelstrom lies a deepening debate over the very fabric of American democracy—and nowhere is that more evident than in the ongoing battles over the Voting Rights Act and redistricting, particularly in the Deep South.
According to AL.com, Alabama’s recent redistricting saga has become a flashpoint in this national debate. Edmund LaCour, Alabama’s solicitor general, has emerged as a key figure in the controversy. LaCour argued the state’s case before the Supreme Court in Milligan v. Allen, a lawsuit brought by Evan Milligan and other plaintiffs who claimed Alabama’s congressional maps diluted the influence of Black voters in all but one district. The lower courts, including two judges appointed by former President Donald Trump, agreed with the plaintiffs and ordered the state to redraw its maps. The Supreme Court, in a decision that surprised many observers, affirmed this order, instructing Alabama to comply.
But the story didn’t end there. Instead of following the court’s directive, the Alabama Legislature passed a new map that critics said produced virtually the same results as the old one. When pressed by federal judges about the state’s refusal to obey, LaCour argued that it was impossible to comply with the court’s order constitutionally. The judges ultimately intervened and redrew the map themselves. In their ruling, they stopped just short of calling the state’s actions outright racist, writing that Alabama had acted "with a racist intent" and had engaged in "an intentional effort to dilute Black Alabamians’ voting strength and evade the unambiguous requirements of court orders standing in the way."
As AL.com reported, LaCour’s role went beyond that of a typical state attorney. Testimony from state lawmakers revealed that LaCour was intimately involved in the process of drawing the challenged maps and even drafted legislative findings for lawmakers to include in the bill that enacted the maps. State Rep. Chris Pringle testified under oath that LaCour was "in the room across from me in reapportionment working on maps." State Sen. Steve Livingston, co-chair of the reapportionment committee, admitted he didn’t know why certain legislative findings were included in the bill, but he knew where they came from: "LaCour gave them to him," he testified.
The legal fight has not come cheap. Alabama taxpayers have already shelled out more than $5 million to cover legal fees for the plaintiffs, with more expenses expected as the litigation continues. These costs don’t account for the state’s own legal defense, the expenses of special legislative sessions, consultants, and travel. As AL.com columnist Kyle Whitmire put it, "This has been one pricey fool’s errand. And for what?"
This battle is unfolding against the backdrop of a Supreme Court that appears increasingly willing to revisit—and potentially overturn—longstanding precedents. According to The Washington Times, at least four legal disputes in the Court’s upcoming term could allow the justices to overturn decisions on presidential authority, school prayer, same-sex marriage, and, crucially, the Voting Rights Act. One of the most closely watched cases involves Louisiana’s legislative map, which challengers say was drawn unlawfully to create two majority-Black districts. The Supreme Court heard the case last year but deferred a decision, announcing that it would rehear the case at the start of its next term on October 15, 2025.
The Voting Rights Act of 1965, which prohibits discrimination in voting based on race, color, or language, has long served as a bulwark against efforts to dilute minority voting power. Yet, as the justices prepare to consider the Louisiana case, court watchers speculate that the conservative majority may be poised to restrict or even overturn key sections of the Act. As Elliot Mincberg, senior fellow at People For the American Way, told The Washington Times, "With this court, you just can’t tell. It’s always a hard guess, but I think this court is willing to entertain a lot of this."
Josh Blackman, a professor at South Texas College of Law, noted that while the Roberts Court has generally been hesitant to outright overrule cases, there have been exceptions, such as the 2022 Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization decision, which overturned Roe v. Wade, and the 2024 Loper Bright Enterprises v. Raimondo decision, which ended the Chevron deference policy that had guided administrative law for decades. "The court is more likely to chip away at precedents," Blackman said.
Other high-profile cases on the docket include a challenge to the 2000 Santa Fe Independent School District v. Doe decision, which found student-led prayer over loudspeakers at football games unconstitutional, and a petition from Kim Davis, the Kentucky county clerk who refused to certify same-sex marriages, asking the Court to overturn the 2015 Obergefell v. Hodges decision. While experts like Ilya Shapiro of the Manhattan Institute doubt the Court will revisit Obergefell through Davis’s case—"There are not five votes to overturn Obergefell or even four to reconsider it," he said—the mere presence of such challenges underscores the Court’s willingness to reconsider established law.
Meanwhile, the Alabama saga serves as a cautionary tale of what can happen when state officials defy federal authority. The 2020 redistricting cycle in Alabama was the first in 50 years conducted without the "strictures of federal preclearance," a requirement lifted by the Supreme Court in its 2013 Shelby County v. Holder decision. As the federal judges overseeing the Alabama case wrote, "The 2020 redistricting cycle in Alabama—the first cycle in 50 years that Alabama has been free of the strictures of federal preclearance—did not have to turn out this way. We wish it had not, but we have eyes to see the veritable mountain of evidence that it did."
At the heart of the matter is a fundamental question: What is the role of the courts in safeguarding minority rights, and how far will states go to test the limits of federal authority? For Alabama, the stakes are not just legal or political—they are historical. The state’s contribution to the Voting Rights Act began at the foot of the Edmund Pettus Bridge, where civil rights heroes like John Lewis were beaten for demanding equal voting rights. Sixty years later, the fight continues, with the Legislature and its solicitor general, LaCour, challenging the very protections those heroes secured.
As the Supreme Court prepares to weigh in on these pivotal issues, the nation waits to see whether the arc of history will bend toward justice or whether old battles will have to be fought anew. The outcome will not only determine the fate of congressional maps in Alabama and Louisiana, but could set the tone for voting rights and civil liberties across the United States for years to come.
