Sixty-one years ago this week, President Lyndon B. Johnson signed the Voting Rights Act of 1965 into law—one of the most consequential victories of the Civil Rights Movement and a landmark affirmation of the principle that democracy belongs to all of us.
But the Voting Rights Act was not simply handed down from Washington. It was won through years of organizing, resistance and extraordinary courage—by people who marched, registered voters and risked their lives demanding that the federal government enforce a right already promised by the Constitution.
That history feels especially urgent today.
Decades after the marchers in Selma forced the nation to confront the violent suppression of Black voters, voting rights are again under attack. The Supreme Court has gutted the most consequential parts of the Voting Rights Act. Election deniers are mounting mass challenges to voter registrations. The Trump administration has sought greater federal control over election administration and just this month, sent “monitors” to polling sites in Michigan and Virginia. And with his continued demands that the Senate pass the SAVE Act (which would disproportionately disenfranchise women voters) and his latest illegal executive order on birthright citizenship, the president has told us who he thinks should get to participate fully in our democracy.
This week, Ms. marked the Voting Rights Act anniversary by looking both backward and forward. We revisited the women of the 1965 Selma movement, whose courage is captured in the new short documentary Selma Sisters March On, and examined the threats voters face heading into this year’s consequential midterm elections.
The lesson of Selma is not that the fight was won. It is that our rights survive only when people are willing to defend them.
We are seeing another test of that principle right now in the Senate.
Trump’s nominee for attorney general, Todd Blanche—his former personal defense attorney and now acting attorney general—has spent weeks struggling to secure enough Republican support for confirmation. The Senate Judiciary Committee advanced his nomination this week on a party-line 12-10 vote, only after Blanche made (non-binding) concessions to Republican senators concerned about a proposed $1.8 billion “anti-weaponization” fund connected to a settlement of Trump’s lawsuit against the IRS.
But the questions surrounding his nomination go far beyond that fund.
At Ms., we have been following Blanche’s record closely—from his role in the Justice Department’s horrific mishandling of the Jeffrey Epstein files, to his threats involving medication abortion and the Comstock Act, to larger concerns about whether as the nation’s top law enforcement officer he will ensure the independence of the Justice Department and defend the Constitution or the political interests of the president who appointed him.
As I write this on Friday afternoon, Blanche’s confirmation is all but assured, with Senate GOP leadership planning to take up his nomination before leaving Washington for its August recess. His confirmation does not resolve the serious questions surrounding his independence—it makes vigilance and accountability all the more important.
Accountability is also at the center of another troubling story unfolding in Washington.
Rep. Max Miller (R-Ohio) is facing allegations of domestic violence and child abuse from his former wife. His former father-in-law, Republican Sen. Bernie Moreno, has gone so far as to say Miller should not serve in Congress, while lawmakers and advocates have called for investigation and accountability. The standards we demand from our leaders—and whether institutions are willing to enforce them—tell us something fundamental about whose safety and dignity we value.
These stories may appear very different: the Voting Rights Act, the nomination of a corrupt attorney general, allegations involving a member of Congress. But they are connected by a basic question: What does democracy require? And what does it require of us?
It requires free and fair elections. It requires the rule of law. It requires institutions strong enough to resist political interference. It requires accountability for people in power. And above all, it requires ordinary people who refuse to surrender rights generations before us fought so hard to secure.
The women and men who marched in Selma understood that. Sixty-one years later, their example remains not simply history, but instruction.
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A note from Ms. editors: We want to hear from you for The Majority, a new campaign collecting stories about how reproductive freedom has enabled readers to build the lives they want and need. Poll after poll shows a majority of Americans support reproductive healthcare access. Yet public debate overlooks the lives shaped by abortion access, contraception, IVF, miscarriage care, maternal healthcare or comprehensive sex education—countless women who chose to pursue an education, have children, not have children, protect their health and chart their own future. Add your voice and complete the sentence: “Access to reproductive choices gave me the freedom to….” Together, these stories will help show not only why reproductive freedom remains a majority value, but also what it makes possible.
