Governor Abbott's Heavy Hand Has the Backing of History
In the sweltering summer of 2025, Texas Governor Greg Abbott is wielding a firm grip to crush the cowardly tactics of House Democrats who fled the state to dodge a redistricting vote. These runaway lawmakers, skulking in blue-state hideouts like Illinois and New York, think they can paralyze the Texas Legislature by denying a quorum. But history stands squarely behind Abbott’s iron-fisted response, echoing a decisive moment in 1787 when Commodore John Barry and his sailors dragged dissenting delegates back to the Philadelphia Convention to secure the U.S. Constitution. Abbott’s resolve to force these deserters back to Austin is not just justified—it’s a patriotic act to preserve the will of Texas voters, backed by the same bold spirit that forged our nation.
In 1787, the fledgling United States teetered on the brink of collapse under the feeble Articles of Confederation. The Philadelphia Convention was tasked with crafting a new Constitution, but a handful of Pennsylvania delegates, scared of a strong federal government, tried to sabotage the process by bolting to avoid a quorum. Their absence threatened to derail the entire convention, risking the republic’s future. Enter Commodore John Barry, a Revolutionary War hero who didn’t hesitate to get his hands dirty. On September 18, 1787, Barry and his band of sailors hunted down the absconders, dragging them back to the State House. One delegate, clothes in tatters, was reportedly thrown over a railing into the chamber, protesting the rough treatment and said “I object to being carried into the Chamber”. Benjamin Franklin, carried in a sedan chair due to his failing health, shot back with a razor-sharp quip: “So was I.” That forceful action restored the quorum, secured Pennsylvania’s vote, and saved the Constitution—and with it, the United States.
Fast forward to 2025, and Texas faces its own crisis of cowardice. House Democrats, desperate to block a redistricting plan that would align congressional seats with Texas’s conservative majority, fled to states like Massachusetts to break the quorum needed for a vote. Their stunt aims to thwart a map that could add five Republican seats for 2026, reflecting the state’s political will as expressed in recent elections. Governor Abbott, like Barry before him, isn’t sitting idly by. On August 3, 2025, he issued a blistering demand for their return, backed by a 2021 opinion from Attorney General Ken Paxton that suggests absent lawmakers could forfeit their seats. Abbott’s ordered the Texas Department of Public Safety to track them down and authorized civil arrest warrants, showing he’s ready to use every tool at his disposal. This isn’t overreach—it’s leadership, rooted in the same resolve that kept the republic alive in 1787.
The parallels are undeniable. In Philadelphia, the dissenting delegates weren’t just shirking duty; they were endangering the nation’s future by obstructing a process critical to its survival. Today’s Texas Democrats are doing the same, undermining the democratic process by refusing to face a vote they know they’ll lose. Their flight is a tantrum, not a strategy—a weak attempt to subvert the will of Texans who elected a Republican majority to draw fair maps. Abbott’s threats of arrest and seat vacancies mirror Barry’s no-nonsense tactics, proving that sometimes a heavy hand is needed to keep democracy on track. Just as Barry’s sailors didn’t coddle the runaways, Abbott shouldn’t hesitate to drag these lawmakers back, metaphorically or otherwise, to do their damn job.
Critics might whine that Abbott’s tactics are too aggressive, but history laughs at their naivety. The Constitution, the bedrock of our nation, was saved by strong-arming cowards who tried to dodge their duty. Franklin’s quip about being carried wasn’t just wit—it was a reminder that showing up, even under pressure, is non-negotiable when the stakes are this high. Texas’s redistricting fight isn’t just about maps; it’s about ensuring the state’s voice in Congress reflects its voters, not a minority of sore losers. Abbott’s willingness to play hardball, backed by the Texas House’s 85-6 vote on August 4 to authorize arrests, shows he’s ready to fight for that principle.
The stakes in 2025 echo those of 1787. Back then, Barry’s actions ensured the Constitution’s ratification, cementing a government that’s lasted over two centuries. Today, Abbott’s stand could secure Texas’s political future, ensuring its congressional delegation reflects the state’s conservative heart. The Democrats’ quorum break is a fleeting stunt—history shows these tactics rarely succeed. In 2003 and 2021, Texas Democrats tried similar ploys, only to see their causes crumble when they ran out of steam. Abbott, with the power to call endless special sessions, can outlast them. His heavy hand isn’t just justified; it’s a necessary echo of Barry’s sailors, who didn’t let a few runaways derail a nation.
In the end, Governor Abbott’s resolve channels the same grit that saved the republic in 1787. The Texas Democrats’ flight is a betrayal of their oath, a weak attempt to dodge the inevitable. Just as Barry and Franklin understood that democracy sometimes demands force to function, Abbott knows that letting a minority hold Texas hostage is no way to govern. His actions, backed by history’s precedent, will ensure the redistricting vote happens, the maps are drawn, and Texas’s voice rings true in Washington. The republic survived Philadelphia’s crisis because bold men acted. Abbott’s doing the same, and history will thank him for it.