The Supreme Court on Tuesday will take up its most consequential case since the election about the future of a functional and fair democracy.
Hanging in the balance are the most meaningful remaining voting rights protections for minority groups under federal law. But even if the justices don't make a sweeping ruling upholding or eliminating those, their decision in a dispute over election restrictions in battleground Arizona will shape the fate of similar rules across the country.
Arizona disallows ballots cast at the wrong precinct and also bars so-called ballot harvesting, the term for campaign operatives or community activists collecting and delivering others' sealed vote envelopes. Last year a federal appeals court ruled that both laws violate the Voting Rights Act because they disproportionately disadvantage Black, Latino and Native American voters.
No decision from the high court is likely before June, and oral arguments like those set for a Tuesday teleconference do not always produce reliable clues about the justices' views of the case.
But the court's decisive 6-3 conservative majority combined with its landmark decision eight years ago effectively gutting the most powerful aspect of the voting rights law — which made places with histories of racial discrimination get Washington's "preclreraance," or permission, before setting new election rules — has civil rights groups and Democratic politicians very worried about the outcome.
Moreover, the case is being argued as Republican-majority legislatures across the country consider as many as 150 bills to make access to the polls more difficult than last year. A broad ruling upholding Arizona's rules would make it more difficult to challenge any measures that get enacted.
"It would be taking away one of the big tools, in fact, the main tool we have left now, to protect voters against racial discrimination," Myrna Perez of the progressive Brennan Center for Justice told the Associated Press.
At issue is the part of the Voting Rights Act that creates two separate protections against racial bias in election rules.
One provision is known as the "intent test." It says state or local election regulations must be struck down if plaintiffs in a lawsuit show the provisions were enacted for the purpose of making it harder for people of a certain race to vote. This protection was significantly weakened when the Supreme Court ruled in 2018 that lawmakers must be given "the presumption of legislative good faith," significantly raising the bar for proving any racist intent.
The fallback provision is called the "results test." It says states may not maintain any law that "results in a denial or abridgement" of the right to vote "on account of race or color." In other words, even when a statute is written without any discriminatory motive, it can still be tossed if the courts conclude it has a disproportionate impact on voters of color.
That was the test that Arizona's two laws failed, the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals decided 7-4 in January 2020.
In the 2016 presidential election, the first after the law took effect, Black, Latino and Native American voters were twice as likely as white people to cast ballots in the wrong precinct, Judge William Fletcher wrote for the majority, thanks to "frequent changes in polling locations; confusing placement of polling locations; and high rates of residential mobility."
And the ban on ballot harvesting also has an outsize effect on minority voters, he said, because they are more likely to have trouble getting to the polls because of their poverty or disability — or to rely on mail service when they live on remote reservations.
Arizona's Republican attorney general, Mark Brnovich, argues the ruling applied the results test much too assertively, and that if the high court agrees then similar laws around the country will fall and the integrity of elections will be imperiled.
If a majority of justices agree, their choice will be to delineate a tougher legal standard for failing the results test — or effectively jettison it altogether. Brnovich has proposed a complex new standard for administering the results test that would appear to make its application all but impossible.
The Biden administration has disappointed some civil rights advocates by deciding not to formally intervene. Instead the Justice Department told the court two weeks ago that, while it does not support tougher standards for proving discriminatory results from election laws, it also does not think Arizona's provisions fail the current test.
If the court sees things the same way, it could uphold Arizona's rules without making big changes to voting discrimination law.
Arizona had been one of nine states where all election laws were subject to federal oversight under the Voting Rights Act until 2013, when the Supreme Court in Shelby County v. Holder effectively scrapped the preclearance system. It would be revived under legislation the Democratic-majority House is on course to pass this year — and that bill's language could be amended before the vote to reverse any weakening of the law by the court in the Arizona case.
But, either way, the measure would surely be consigned to limbo in the Senate so long as the legislative filibuster stays in place, because almost all 50 Republicans oppose it.
As many as one in 10 voters in most elections cast their votes in a precinct where they don't live, the National Conference of State Legislatures estimates, and generally the mistake involves ignorance of neighborhood political geography and goes unnoticed. But when such votes are challenged, Arizona is one of more than a dozen states mandating the entire ballot be thrown out — negating not only votes in local contests such as for city council and school board but also for statewide offices, Congress and president.
Arizona is also among the 10 states that make it a crime for people other than family members or caregivers to act as the third-party courier for an absentee ballot. Half the states make that widely permissible, and the rest have no state laws on the matter.
The results of the case will have an impact not only on minority voting rights but on the balance of partisan power, because any new permissiveness for laws with racially discriminatory consequences could cut down on the Democratic vote. President Biden won last fall with the support of 87 percent of Black voters, 65 percent of Latino voters, 61 percent of Asian voters, and 55 percent of other nonwhite voters.
The challenged Arizona provisions remained in effect last fall because the case was on appeal. still making its way through the courts. Biden still narrowly carried the state, the first Democrat to do so since 1996.




















A golden tray sits on the Resolute Desk as President Donald Trump speaks during an announcement on American nuclear innovation in the Oval Office at the White House on July 24, 2026, in Washington, D.C. Trump is signing multiple executive orders targeting the nuclear energy sector and easing rules for new reactors and nuclear fuel supply chains.
Trump’s hubris rivals the fallen heroes of ancient Greek mythology
In January, the New York Times asked President Donald Trump if there were any limits on his global powers.
“Yeah,” the president responded, “there is one thing. My own morality. My own mind. It’s the only thing that can stop me.”
That was eight months ago, but fortunately Christopher Nolan’s blockbuster adaptation of “The Odyssey” has made ancient Greek literature newly relevant. Before that window closes, I’d like to talk about hubris.
Today, the term mostly means excessive pride or arrogance. That’s part of what the Greeks meant by it too, but the meaning was a bit richer and more specific. Hubris was an insolent or outrageous act that offended the gods, often because the transgressor was claiming abilities or authorities that solely belonged to supreme beings.
Nolan renamed and slightly modified the concept of xenia for the film, calling it “Zeus’ law.” In the director’s telling, mortals should follow the rules laid out by the gods, specifically the requirement to treat strangers with respect lest they be gods in disguise.
In a sense, hubris is the opposite, or at least the rejection, of xenia. The hubris of the suitors, and at times Odysseus himself, invites punishment by the gods and their mortal instruments.
Which brings me back to Donald Trump. His claim that there are no constraints on his personal power to dictate events on the global stage was one of the greatest expressions of hubris ever uttered by a political leader.
Trump’s claim was obviously false when he made it.
He vowed that he could end the Russia-Ukraine war in 24 hours. He’s proved powerless to make that happen. If he had divine powers to work his will, why would he have balked at implementing his tariffs so often that Wall Street adopted the “TACO trade” term for his deals? “TACO” stands for “Trump always chickens out.”
And why would Trump have made so many embarrassing concessions to China — from rescinding tariffs on Chinese goods to allowing them to buy crucial and incredibly valuable computer chips?
But Trump saw his success at capturing Venezuelan strongman Nicolas Maduro as proof of his ability to launch missiles to the same effect as Zeus’ lightning bolts. Trump believed he was the most powerful man who ever lived.
This is no exaggeration. In March, when the Iran invasion seemed successful, Trump gave a document penned by“Presidential Historian David King” to New York Times reporters Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan purporting to prove that Trump was “the most powerful person to have EVER walked this planet.” King was, in fact, a businessman and occasional caddy for legendary golfer Gary Player.
King compared Trump favorably to many of history’s most powerful, and often heinous, figures: Alexander the Great, Attila the Hun, William the Conqueror, Napoleon Bonaparte, Joseph Stalin, Genghis Khan, Mao Tse Tung, Adolf Hitler and Vladimir Lenin. Many of these men thought they were the most powerful person in the world, too. And many were defeated precisely because they believed it.
At least Napoleon and Hitler had a string of truly impressive victories before they learned the folly of hubris. The limits on Trump’s power have been exposed by far less august forces than the combined might of the allies in World War II or the fearsome Russian winter.
Iran is a comparatively middling power. But the regime’s ability to absorb punishment while imposing its will on the Strait of Hormuz has proved to be a greater constraint on Trump’s power than his morality or mind. We should note that, at least rhetorically, his morality has not proved much of a constraint. He has repeatedly promised to destroy Iranian “civilization” if the regime refuses to capitulate.
But they haven’t — and won’t anytime soon — because the regime’s tolerance for pain far outstrips Trump’s. The combined fear of skyrocketing oil prices, outrage of Gulf state potentates, diminishing weapon supplies and domestic unpopularity is doing the work that international law, congressional oversight and the collective opinion of foreign policy experts can’t or won’t do.
If I considered Trump more heroic than reason and facts could allow, I would say his Sisyphean predicament has the whiff of Greek tragedy to it. Trump is vexed by the fact that the Iranians won’t honor deals or ratify his countless premature claims of victory — giving new meaning to his vow that his presidency would make people tired of winning. It’s almost like they’re out-Trumping Trump.
Things might have gone better if he’d heeded that great Greek tragedian Sophocles: “For Zeus utterly abhors the boasts of a proud tongue.”
____
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.