[Dike’s Scales] The Political Monster Revived: The Salamander

Hansin Kim / Attorney, Chairman of the Center for U.S.-Korea Politics and Economy

With Proposition 50 (Prop. 50) passing last month in California by an overwhelming majority, the state can now begin the process of redrawing its congressional districts. The initiative ultimately adjusts U.S. House district boundaries—previously set through a bipartisan agreement—into a configuration more favorable to the Democratic Party.

However, behind California’s decision lies the example of Texas. In Texas, the Republican-controlled state legislature undertook a sweeping redistricting effort, dividing or absorbing Democratic strongholds in a way that strengthened Republican dominance. Democrats strongly objected, calling it an “unfair map that distorts the value of votes,” and California—where Democrats are overwhelmingly dominant—moved to reclaim the House seats they expected Republicans to lose.

As major Democratic figures, including former President Barack Obama, joined the nationwide campaign for Prop. 50, the issue of California’s redistricting quickly became a central topic across the country.

The roots of the U.S. congressional election system go back to the “Great Compromise” of the founding era. Large states, with higher populations, demanded representation proportionate to population, while smaller states insisted on equal status. As a result, the Senate was designed to elect two members from each state regardless of population size, and the House was structured to allocate seats proportionally. The drawing of House district lines, however, was left to state laws—not federal rules. This institutional gap became the starting point for parties adjusting districts to maximize political advantage.

This kind of redistricting is commonly known as gerrymandering. The term originated in 1812, when Massachusetts Governor Elbridge Gerry redrew districts to benefit his party, producing a district shape resembling the mythical monster “salamander.” The name combined “Gerry” and “salamander,” and the term stuck.

Today’s controversy—sparked in Texas and magnified in California—is not confined to one or two states. It is the byproduct of political polarization in the U.S., and of the Republican Party’s strategic effort to maintain its razor-thin majorities in Congress.

One side attempts to structurally reshape the electoral landscape; the other denounces it as an “erosion of democracy” and fights back. Republicans began this in Texas, and Democrats have now begun their own version in California.

But fairness does not require that every state engage in gerrymandering. The core issue we must confront is not the maps themselves, but the extremism of politics. When differing voices fail to converge through dialogue—when politics becomes a game of drawing the right line on a map to decide victory—the most precise map cannot restore democratic balance. The true root of the problem is not the districts; it is the disappearance of conversation in politics.

Immediately after California’s Prop. 50 passed, Republicans filed a federal lawsuit claiming a “violation of constitutional authority.” Legal battles have begun, but litigation cannot resolve political distrust. Courts can settle disputes, but they cannot create public consensus. Without such consensus, similar conflicts will inevitably continue.

What hangs on a single district line is not just a map. It is the boundary of American democracy. May Dike’s scales tilt toward fair representation and the fundamental principles of democracy.

(This article was originally published as a column in The Korea Daily in Korean and translated into English with the help of ChatGPT 5. The views expressed in this article are those of the author(s) and do not represent the official stance of the center.)