Overview:
Civil rights advocates say the same strategies reshaping Louisiana — weakening voting protections, concentrating power, and restricting rights — are poised to expand nationwide under a broader conservative agenda.
Decades ago, W. E. B. Du Bois warned, “As goes the South, so goes the nation.” That warning carries renewed weight after last week, when Louisiana experienced two significant challenges to its democratic systems.
Yet the state is also actively pushing back, positioning itself as a proving ground for both the erosion of power and the strategies to resist it.
On April 29th, in a decision that eviscerated the Voting Rights Act, the Supreme Court struck down Louisiana’s congressional map. The decision effectively dismantled the largest Black voting district in the state, effectively suppressing the votes of thousands of Black Louisianans — including mine. The NAACP and the American Civil Liberties Union have already filed lawsuits challenging the ruling.
Blueprint, not Policy
Just days later, the Louisiana legislature eliminated the position held by Calvin Duncan, a formerly incarcerated Black man who had been elected clerk of the local criminal district court. Framed as a matter of structural efficiency, the legislature effectively fired an elected official whose job was to advance reform and accountability.
With the support of the ACLU, Duncan sued and won in federal court, restoring his power.
But what’s happening in Louisiana isn’t just policy—it’s a blueprint.
Southern states like Alabama, Tennessee, South Carolina, Georgia, and Florida are advancing their own policies that similarly threaten Black voting power — moves straight out of Project 2025, the far-right road map to reshape and dismantle democratic institutions.
Front-Row Seat
While it became an issue during the 2024 presidential election, Project 2025 policies had unfolded in Louisiana years before Trump’s first executive order. Since 2023, under Governor Jeff Landry, the state has sought to restructure political systems and limit access to power, particularly for his own constituents.
I don’t write about this as a distant observer. I am a Black woman, born and raised in Louisiana, where I still live and work. I’ve seen how decisions made in Baton Rouge don’t stay in government buildings; they show up in courtrooms, classrooms, and everyday life.
One of Landry’s early actions was reversing a key component of the “Raise the Age” law, designed to reduce the number of underage people serving time in state penitentiaries. The governor lowered the age at which young people can be tried as adults to age 17, exposing more children to the adult criminal legal system.
I am a Black woman, born and raised in Louisiana, where I still live and work. I’ve seen how decisions made in Baton Rouge don’t stay in government buildings; they show up in courtrooms, classrooms, and everyday life.
Like so many “tough on crime” policies, the effect is not evenly distributed. It lands hardest on the most vulnerable, including Black and poor children. Weeks after the vote, I saw a former student sitting behind bars for breaking into a car during the 2025 Louisiana snowstorm — seeking shelter when the entire state had shut down.
Slow Erosion
This is how erosion works—not through one sweeping decision, but through policy shifts that reshape outcomes over time.
But Louisiana residents have not been passive.
In 2025, voters rejected all four proposed constitutional amendments that would have expanded legislative control over the courts, reshaped tax policy, and altered aspects of the criminal legal system. It was evidence of the power of the people. And we are being called to do so again.
On May 16, voters here will face a slate of constitutional amendments that could reshape our schools, courts, and communities, proposals that could directly affect how resources, justice, and opportunity are distributed. Together, these bills represent a continued effort to shift power away from communities and toward politicians, another key component of Project 2025.
Thousands, including myself, have turned out in record numbers, set to create a historic election turnout. This is why Louisiana matters: it’s where policies are tested, and then replicated.
Georgia, Kentucky, and Washington, D.C., passed more punitive crime bills. Coordinated strategies, like the “trigger laws” that activated abortion bans across 13 states, including Louisiana, show how what begins here does not stay here; the same strategies being used here to weaken voting power, reshape courts, and limit rights are poised to spread nationally — and scale up.
Southern Strategies
That means the South is the critical battleground for the future of American democracy.
And we must continue to fight back.
Across the South, Southerners are fighting for their rights. In Florida, grassroots organizing helped flip Jacksonville’s mayoral seat to blue. Georgia currently has its most diverse legislature.Virginia and Alabama have driven major voting rights victories, with courts forcing the redraw of congressional maps to restore fair representation. All of these efforts make clear that even in states labeled “red,” power is being contested, reshaped, and reclaimed.
The erosion of fair courts, representative districts, and accountable leadership isn’t partisan; it’s structural. And when power becomes more concentrated, everyday people and Black communities lose their ability to shape what happens next.
That is why this moment demands attention beyond state lines. We must listen to the warning Du Bois offered generations ago. Other states would be wise to look here for what’s next, so they can prepare and resist.
Julienne Louis-Anderson is a native of New Orleans, Louisiana. She is also a former educator who writes about the intersection of culture and politics with education and human development. She is also a Public Voices Fellow of The OpEd Project in partnership with the National Black Child Development Institute.