By Abdul-Hakim Shabazz
As you all know, I have a song-and-dance background. Shakespeare, musical theater, a little tap (very little), a little stage combat — I’ve done it all. But my favorite theatrical indulgence, the one that perfectly captures the absurdity of modern politics, is Gilbert & Sullivan. Nobody understood pompous characters, ridiculous logic, or self-important blowhards getting hoisted on their own petards quite like G&S. Which makes this past week in Indiana politics feel less like governing and more like a full-scale operetta.
Welcome to The Great Mid-Cycle Redistricting Fiasco of 2025, starring Micah Beckwith, John Schmitz, Governor Mike Braun (who wandered in from stage left with a wildly off-key solo), and their trusty chorus — the Cabal of Keyboard Commandos. For a month, these folks pushed the fantastical idea that they could force the Indiana Senate back into session to redraw congressional maps. Not because of a legal requirement. Not because of new census data. But because of… vibes? California? Soros? Cartoons? The Constitution, as interpreted by people who treat Facebook Live like a law review?
The plot changed daily, but the song remained the same: “We demand it, therefore it must be so!” Enter Governor Mike Braun, who decided to belt out his own tune: “Our state senators need to do the right thing and show up to vote for fair maps.”
This statement landed with the grace of a dropped cymbal. Mike, the Senate did do the right thing — they declined to toss a match into a political fireworks factory because three men with podcast microphones insisted the Founders wanted them to.
And then came the inevitable: Senate President Pro Tempore Rod Bray stepped forward, cleared his throat, and announced (in a statement) that — shocker — there weren’t enough votes. Not last week. Not this week. Not ever. This was not news. This was not surprising. This was not suspenseful. This was math. But when you’re performing political cosplay, math is the villain.
And here’s the part the Cabal truly cannot wrap their heads around:
For the record — and for the folks in the cheap seats — this all started in Texas, thanks to the Fifth Circuit’s ruling in Petteway v. Galveston County, 90 F.4th 659 (5th Cir. 2024), not some West Coast conspiracy dreamed up on Telegram.
(Micah, pay attention to this part: a “coalition district” is simply a district where no single minority group forms a majority, but several minority communities together do. The Fifth Circuit held those districts aren’t protected under Section 2 of the Voting Rights Act. That Texas ruling — not California, not woke boogeymen, not your livestream — is what sent shockwaves through redistricting nationwide.)
Meanwhile, the activists, the everyday citizens, and anyone with half a gram of common sense did exactly what good Hoosiers do: they spoke up, loudly and clearly, and said, “No. Absolutely not.” They deserve a bow and a bouquet — because they, not the Cabal, understood the stakes.
From there, the meltdown was worthy of a standing ovation. Micah clutched his pearls so tightly they squeaked. Schmitz vanished faster than a magician’s assistant. Their activists shrieked betrayal. Their trolls declared it rigged, stolen, illegitimate, unconstitutional, and somehow also my fault. And now — in the grand tradition of people with no leverage and even less clue — they’ve turned to primary threats. So many primary threats, so little time.
Nothing says “serious policymakers” like vowing to take out half the GOP caucus because those senators refused to burn the institution to make three influencers feel powerful. And let’s be brutally honest: they never had the votes. They were never close. They weren’t even in the same galaxy as the votes.
The Senate did what adults do: they looked at the calendar, the political cost, the constitutional issues, the public reaction, and basic survival instinct — and politely declined to participate in someone else’s delusion. But don’t worry: the most entertaining act is still coming. Soon, this same group — newly self-deputized as “media” — will attempt to cover their first caucus meeting and will be told: “We don’t discuss caucus matters with non-members.”
The wailing will be operatic. The livestreams will be Shakespearean. The indignation will be volcanic. And as always, I will do two things: (1) laugh my Black ass off, and (2) remind them — musically — that I told you so.
Which brings us to the perfect closing number: a nod to Pirates of Penzance, that glorious operetta about self-important fools undone by their own confusion. “A paradox! A paradox! A most ingenious paradox!” Because that’s exactly what this week was — a paradox of noise without numbers. A paradox of outrage without authority. A paradox of political theater performed by people who don’t understand the script.
The adults are still running the Statehouse. The show is over. The chorus has spoken.
I was right — again. I told you so.
Abdul-Hakim Shabazz is an attorney licensed in Indiana and Illinois, the editor and publisher of IndyPolitics.org, and a longtime radio, television, and print commentator on Indiana government and politics.
