12 Months of Chaos: Inside the Nation's Most Bitter Redistricting Fight

This piece originally appeared in The Renovator, Danielle Allen's Substack on technology and democracy.

Ray Reed had not slept in two days. The 29-year-old state representative from St. Louis County, joined by two Democratic colleagues – Elizabeth Fuchs of St. Louis City and Jeremy Dean of Springfield – hunkered down on the floor of the House chamber in the Missouri State Capitol, in Jefferson City, halfway between St. Louis and Kansas City along I-70. In a few days, thousands of Missourians would descend on the Capitol. The building's domed rotunda, built on a limestone bluff on the south bank of the Missouri River, was about to become the epicenter of the nation's most litigated redistricting battle. It was Friday, September 5, 2025. Reed and his colleagues were steeling themselves for the long haul.

One week earlier, Missouri's Republican Governor Mike Kehoe ordered the Legislature to cut summer recess short and return to the Capitol for a two-week special session. The purpose was twofold: pass redrawn congressional maps more favorable to Republicans, and approve a proposal to make it harder for citizens to initiate amendments to the state constitution.

There was just one problem: Missouri Republicans didn't show up for the first week of the special session – a period where lawmakers would typically be permitted to voice concerns or begin debate. Instead, a designee gaveled the House in and out of session each day in as little as five seconds. Reed, Fuchs, and Dean were furious. They demanded the Republican House Speaker, Jonathan Patterson, meet them on the floor. He refused, so they stayed put, camping out on the House floor through the weekend – 68 hours total – in protest.

"Obviously we're tired," Reed told MSNBC that weekend. Dean, appearing alongside him, heavy-eyed, acknowledged the sit-in wouldn't change the outcome. "Even if we can't stop this redistricting or stop the silencing through the initiative petition sabotage, we will be fighting loud enough to make sure every other state knows what's coming to them."

Republican officials were not amused. Rep. John Martin (R-Boone County) called it an unnecessary publicity stunt: "It keeps security workers there all night," he added in his message to a local news station.

Meanwhile, opposition was building across the state. Unions organized bus trips from Kansas City. Advocacy groups mobilized voters to the Capitol. Ohio legislators, anticipating their own redistricting fight, flew in. By Wednesday morning, thousands of Missourians packed in front of the Capitol steps. Chants of "They can't win, so they cheat," and "Whose state? Our state!" rang out across the plaza. Then, the floodgates: protesters poured into the rotunda, packing the Senate chambers as the second phase of the special session began.

The maps were the first order of business. Missouri's 8 congressional districts, each with roughly 750,000 residents, include two Democratic strongholds: District 1 – on the state's east, along the Mississippi River covering St. Louis – backed Kamala Harris by 57 points in 2024; and District 5 – encompassing Kansas City on the state's western border – supported Harris by a 23-point margin. The other 6 districts are more rural, have Republican representatives, and voted reliably for Trump in the past three presidential elections.

At first glance, state lawmakers had little to gain from manipulating the district lines: 6 districts were solidly red, 2 solidly blue. But Republican officials were worried. An internal poll in May 2025 showed Ann Wagner (R, MO-2) at 32% approval, prompting the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee to list MO-02 as a "District in Play" for 2026. And since 2022, the Missouri electorate had repeatedly passed citizen-initiated amendments to the state constitution – legalizing marijuana, mandating paid sick leave, and codifying abortion rights – at odds with the Republican legislature.

"This gerrymandering effort was never really about just one seat," Craig Phelps, a political strategist who served as communications director for former Rep. Cori Bush (D, MO-1), told The Renovator.

Then there was the Trump factor. Last summer, the President began publicly pressuring GOP-led states to redraw their maps ahead of the midterms. Texas moved first, redrawing its map to eliminate five Democratic-leaning districts. Missouri Republicans sensed an opening. In August, Rep. Jason Smith (R, MO-8), a close Trump ally, said he'd been coordinating with the White House on redrawing Missouri's map. On August 21, Trump praised Missouri on Truth Social: "The Great State of Missouri is now IN. It is a great state with fabulous people. I won it, all 3 times, in a landslide. We're going to win the Midterms again, bigger and better than ever before!" The following week, Gov. Kehoe publicly released HB1, the new proposed map, and called for the special session.

The new map split Kansas City between the neighboring 4th and 6th districts, then stretched District 5 into rural, heavily Republican territory.

Six in 10 voters in the redrawn District 5 were new – a shift that favored Republican state Sen. Rick Brattin over 82-year-old Democratic incumbent Rep. Emanuel Cleaver, who has held the seat since 2005. Cleaver, who grew up poor on a cotton farm in rural Texas, rose to become the first Black mayor of Kansas City before becoming the city's representative in Congress.

Back on the House floor that Monday, September 8, Democrats were on the offensive. The debate (better yet, the scolding) stretched late into the evening.

"This is an egregious overreach of power. It's shameless," said Rep. Keri Ingle (D). "And I know that a lot of you will feel shame and will text me later about it. I'm not going to give you absolution."

Rep. Kem Smith (D) also invoked shame: "If we sanction this midcycle redraw, we will be joining the long and shameful line of states that have used legal language to silence voters rather than to protect them."

Ashley Aune, the Democratic floor leader, began crying on the House floor. "What you wrought this week will reverberate throughout state history as a chilling example of what happens when a cowardly majority sacrifices not only what is just and right, but also its own self-respect," she said. Rep. LaKeySha Bosley (D) called the map racist.

Republicans held firm. "This is a better map. It comports with every legal standard and every constitutional requirement," said Rep. Dirk Deaton. "We should send a conservative message to D.C.," said Rep. Michael Davis, a member of the state's far-right Freedom Caucus. "The best way to do that is by sending seven Republicans to ensure Republicans keep control of the House of Representatives."

Trump's influence permeated the proceedings. "My colleague across the aisle brought up the fact that President Donald J. Trump has asked Missouri to consider redistricting, and thank God he has," said Rep. Justin Sparks (R). "Every single vote in Congress matters now."

Not every Republican fell in line. "Our plate is full of things that we need to be doing for the people of this state, and this ain't one of them," said Rep. Tony Harbison (R), drawing rousing applause from Democrats. "The job of the representative is to represent the district, not the party, certainly not the president," said Rep. Bill Allen (R). In all, fifteen Republicans broke ranks in voting against the new map.

It wasn't enough. The House passed the new map the next day, 90-65. Only one hurdle remained: a Senate vote. President Trump, smelling victory, called Missouri senators for a final pep talk. The senators obliged, passing HB1 on September 12. Sen. Stephen Webber (D), looking pained, told reporters: "This was never a thing that would happen when George Bush was president. I have never in my life seen a president giving orders to a legislature."

Two weeks later, Governor Kehoe signed HB1 into law.

The map wasn't the only fight underway between the people of Missouri and their legislature. The same day the Legislature passed HB1, they also passed Amendment 4, which would require citizen-initiated constitutional amendments to win majority support in all 8 congressional districts, rather than a simple statewide majority. But unlike HB1, Governor Kehoe couldn't sign the amendment into law; the state constitution gives Missourians the right to vote on amendments before they take effect.

"This was not just about a map," Jamie Johnson, a Kansas City-based organizer, told The Renovator, of Amendment 4. "It was about politicians once again making decisions that completely contradict what the people voiced and voted for, and whether Missourians would still have the ability to use a constitutional right to challenge those decisions."

Every one of the citizen-led amendments Missouri voters had passed since 2020 – expanding Medicaid, legalizing marijuana, protecting abortion rights – would have failed if Amendment 4 had been in place. But it never took effect. In the Missouri House, 98 of 104 Republicans supported Amendment 4 in September 2025. Last month, when it appeared on the primary ballot, 8 in 10 voters rejected it.

The fight over Missouri's map would prove far messier.

Leann Villaluz grew up near St. Louis before settling in Kansas City six years ago. She heard about the new maps the moment lawmakers passed them on September 12. "The news spread fast online and through friends and family. It was top of mind for everyone immediately," she told The Renovator.

Leann lives in Missouri's 4th district – or maybe the 5th. She's not sure anymore. "They're trying to fracture Kansas City and take away this blue dot holding down one side of the state," she said.

A friend mentioned a new group, People Not Politicians, that was gathering signatures for a veto referendum – a process that could force HB1 to a statewide vote. Leann signed up to canvass with them that fall.

Before founding Missouri's People Not Politicians in July 2025 – days after Trump announced his intention to target Cleaver's seat – Richard von Glahn spent years as a labor organizer with Missouri Jobs with Justice, where he'd helped pass the state's paid sick leave law. "I was concerned and honestly a little despondent about the state of our democracy," Von Glahn told The Renovator. "Another organizer from Kansas City named Daniel Tucker insisted we organize some emergency town halls. The energy in those rooms across the state was palpable. That's what hooked me."

Von Glahn didn't know the legal battle he was in for. He was sued – for the first time – on October 15. Missouri Attorney General Catherine Hanaway accused him of pushing a referendum that violated both the U.S. and Missouri constitutions. Von Glahn was confident history was on his side: "Voters rejected a congressional map by referendum in 1922, and nobody argued they didn't have the right to. That's the history we're leaning on."

While the lawsuit worked its way through federal court, Von Glahn put his head down; he had 90 days to collect 106,000 signatures, the minimum required for a referendum to reach the 2026 ballot. Ten paid staff – three at PNP, seven more at a partner organization – recruited 3,000 volunteers and deployed them across the state, backed by $7.2 million in donations. At their peak, PNP organized four to five signature launches a week, in-person meetups where volunteers turned in signatures, got retrained, and recruited friends.

Leann carried petitions with her everywhere – a choir rehearsal, a Chappell Roan concert, a Halloween party. ("Really? A Halloween party?" I asked. "Yep. I dressed as Sabrina Carpenter, petition in hand.")

It took People Not Politicians just 55 days to collect 305,000 signatures from every county in the state.

Von Glahn credits groups like Missouri Jobs with Justice, Missouri Rural Crisis Center, Missouri Workers Center, the AFL-CIO, and ACTION St. Louis with building an organizing infrastructure over many years. "PNP wasn't and couldn't have been built in a day."

The signatures had to be delivered to the Secretary of State, Republican Denny Hoskins. On December 9, at 8 a.m., Von Glahn arrived at Hoskins' office. He began unloading boxes of signatures – 691 of them – with help from Lucas Kirk, a volunteer from the small town of Sullivan. Capitol Police screened each box as the pair brought them to the door.

Whatever satisfaction Von Glahn felt didn't last. That same day, Hoskins' office released a statement: the new map, it said, would "not be frozen unless and until the secretary of state certifies the referendum." There was a catch: Hoskins had no intention of certifying anything anytime soon.

Hoskins was in no rush. The state constitution gave him until August 4, the same day as the primary, to issue a final decision on the referendum. Every month he delayed, HB1 remained the operative map. If he could stall past August 4, swapping maps before November would be a legal and logistical nightmare.

While Hoskins sat on the signatures, the referendum dispute escalated to the Missouri Supreme Court. In May, Hoskins received the news he was hoping for: the new map could stand for the August primary, the justices ruled.

On August 4, Missourians voted for the first time under the HB1 lines. That afternoon, eight months after the signatures were delivered, Hoskins announced his verdict at a press conference: "Based on the Missouri Constitution, based on Missouri state law and based on the U.S. Constitution, a referendum on a congressional redistricting map is not constitutional."

Von Glahn, anticipating Hoskins' rejection, had already filed suit. The case went to Cole County Circuit Judge Daniel Green, who sided with Hoskins. "Judge Green basically took the Republican intervenors' brief and signed it," Von Glahn told The Renovator. "What mattered was just getting a decision. A fast ruling, even a loss, is progress, because it puts us in front of the only court that actually decides this [the Missouri Supreme Court]."

Two more weeks passed. The midterms inched closer. On September 3, the Missouri Supreme Court ruled unanimously: the state would revert to the old, 6-2 map for the November election; and the veto referendum itself would appear on the ballot, giving voters final say. The justices criticized Hoskins, writing: "The secretary's delay created the confusion, expense and practical difficulties of which he complains."

Hoskins and Hanaway refused to concede; the next day, they filed an emergency application with the U.S. Supreme Court. This time, they had a narrower ask: let Missouri use the HB1 map in November, while letting the referendum proceed on the same ballot. "This order renders a completed federal Primary Election utterly pointless," Hanaway wrote in the filing. "Hundreds of thousands of voters will now be moved into new districts and forced to vote for candidates they had no role in selecting." Twenty Republican-led states, led by Texas and Florida, filed a brief in support. Trump weighed in on September 4: "The Election Process, as usual, is being disturbed in America! Missouri must be able to use the map that was in effect just a couple of months ago, in the Primary. This is a Dark Day for 'Justice' in Missouri!"

Justice Kavanaugh, unmoved by Trump's pressure, promptly denied the state's emergency appeal, upholding the Missouri Supreme Court's ruling that the new map couldn't be used without a voter referendum. Minutes later, Chief U.S. District Judge Stephen Clark – a Trump appointee – issued an opposing order, reviving the gerrymandered map, warning that switching now would "wreak havoc on the fairness and orderliness" of the elections.

Hoskins, Kehoe, and Hanaway jointly announced they would heed Clark's ruling over both the Missouri and U.S. Supreme Courts. Hoskins emailed Missouri election officials, directing them to comply with Clark's order and to prepare for the gerrymandered map. PNP asked the Missouri Supreme Court to hold Hoskins in contempt. For the second time in 48 hours, the dispute landed back at the U.S. Supreme Court.

On September 10 – one year after Missouri's Republican legislature passed HB1 – the U.S. Supreme Court issued its final word: a brief, unexplained order affirming that the old, 6-2 map would be used in November.

This time, Hoskins complied, directing local election authorities to use the 2022 congressional map.

Leann is not ready to exhale. "No one wants to let their foot off the pedal," she told The Renovator. "Everyone's watching with bated breath, more than ready to start an operation ten times bigger than People Not Politicians if it comes to that."

On November 3, Missouri voters will cast ballots under the old map, and get final say on its fate for the rest of the decade, via Proposition A. But exactly how the state handles the swap remains unresolved. Rick Brattin won the Republican primary for the new 5th district – the one drawn to beat Cleaver. Does he become the nominee for the old 5th district now? Or does the party pick someone new? No one has said yet.

Missouri's redistricting effort has been the most litigated nationally, triggering a dozen lawsuits in 12 months. But Missouri wasn't alone. 10 states drew new maps since August 2025; between 1970 and 2025, only two states had conducted mid-decade redistricting. Republicans hope for up to 16 additional seats across 8 states; Democrats think they could win up to 6 additional seats from new districts in California and Utah.

"People hear '5th District' and think this is about Emanuel Cleaver's seat, and sure, that's the immediate fight," Von Glahn told The Renovator. "But that's not really what we're fighting for. We're fighting for whether Missourians still get to have a say when politicians do something like this."

Restoring the old maps also doesn't resolve an existing problem: non-competitive districts. Missouri's congressional delegation has consisted of exactly six Republicans and two Democrats since 2013. "The old map had six seats that were R+10 or redder and two seats that were D+10 or bluer," Nathaniel Rakich wrote in Inside Elections. And Missouri is the norm. Only 18 out of 435 House districts are considered competitive.

Danielle Allen has backed more structural fixes, which Renovator readers will be familiar with: enlarging the House, electing multiple members per district, pairing open primaries with ranked-choice voting. Together, these reforms would render gerrymandering obsolete.

In the meantime, the Missourians who fought HB1 are celebrating. Cleaver, who stands to benefit most from last week's Supreme Court ruling, praised the organizing effort behind the veto referendum in an interview with St. Louis Public Radio: "The people here did something that I think will end up in the textbook on community engagement."