Can the U.S. Government Declare a State Constitution 'Un-Republican'?

A lawsuit challenging Colorado's Taxpayer Bill of Rights raises uncomfortable questions about federalism and the Constitution's Guaranty Clause.
The Colorado Capitol in Denver (Wikimedia Commons)

The Constitution is full of inconvenient provisions. Gun-control advocates struggle to explain the Second Amendment; those favoring federal power must wrestle with the Tenth: “The powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution, nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to the States respectively, or to the people.”

Here’s a puzzle for the "states’ rights" and "state sovereignty" crowd: the "Guaranty Clause," Article 4 § 4, which binds the federal government to "guarantee to every state ... a republican form of government."

That clause, like a dormant volcano, rumbled last week in a courtroom in Denver. The sound should worry those who think state prerogatives trump those of the nation.

Since the earliest days of the republic, this clause has been interpreted to mean that when Congress recognizes a state government and admits its members to Congress, it is implicitly finding the state’s government properly "republican." In fact, when admitting new states to the union, Congress has for more than a century placed in the statute wording finding that the people have adopted a "republican form of government."

The sobering implication is that Congress could decide at any point that a state’s constitution was not "republican," expel its members of Congress, and require its people to draft a new constitution.

It’s kind of hard to square that power with the claim that the states are "co-sovereigns" with the federal government. It’s an odd kind of "co-sovereign" that exists by grace of its "peer."

Congress has never voided a state government under the clause, and probably never will. The wording, however, doesn’t specifically refer to Congress, but to the entire "federal government." The 10th Circuit Court of Appeals decided that a group of Colorado legislators could bring suit against their own government, on the grounds that it is not "republican" in form.

I’ve written before (here and here) about the case, Kerr v. Hickenlooper. It’s an attack on a provision of the Colorado constitution called the Taxpayer Bill of Rights (TABOR). Adopted by popular initiative in 1992, it's the strictest tax-limitation measure passed by the voters in any state. Despite its name, it has nothing to do with rights of individual taxpayers and everything to do with hamstringing state government. Under TABOR, no unit of government, from the legislature to local boards, can raise taxes or approve a new tax without a vote of the people. In addition, if existing taxes bring in revenue greater than "inflation plus the percentage change in state population" for the year previous, that "surplus" must be refunded to the taxpayers. In short, TABOR froze state government in its existing shape as of 1992, and left the legislature to flounder helplessly.

In 2011, a group of taxpayers and legislatures brought suit in federal district court, arguing that a state in which no representative body has the power to tax is not a "republic" in any sense of the word.

Their quest seemed far-fetched at the time. First, citizens or even legislators who don’t like the way things are being run generally don’t have what’s called "standing to sue." Standing requires a plaintiff to show that a government action or policy—in this case TABOR—injures him or her in a way it doesn’t hurt everyone. Since TABOR affects everyone no one might have standing.

Second, the Supreme Court has for a century and a half refused to get into "republican form" disputes. In 1849, the Supreme Court refused to settle a full-scale civil war in Rhode Island by choosing one of the factions as the proper "republican" government. That was for Congress to decide, Chief Justice Roger B. Taney (later the author of Dred Scott) wrote, not for the courts. A century ago, the state of Oregon adopted the initiative system; the newly empowered citizenry promptly voted a tax on some corporate revenue. An aggrieved corporation sued, claiming that allowing government by popular vote was not "republican." No question of "standing" here, being taxed counts as "injury," but the Court held that the dispute was a "political question," beyond the jurisdiction of the courts. Chief Justice Edward White noted that the challenge was not simply "on the tax as a tax, but on the State as a State." Such a broad attack on a state was "not therefore within the reach of judicial power."

Presented by

Garrett Epps is a contributing writer for The Atlantic. He teaches constitutional law and creative writing for law students at the University of Baltimore. His latest book is American Justice 2014: Nine Clashing Visions on the Supreme Court.

How to Cook Spaghetti Squash (and Why)

Cooking for yourself is one of the surest ways to eat well. Bestselling author Mark Bittman teaches James Hamblin the recipe that everyone is Googling.

Join the Discussion

After you comment, click Post. If you’re not already logged in you will be asked to log in or register.

blog comments powered by Disqus


How to Cook Spaghetti Squash (and Why)

Cooking for yourself is one of the surest ways to eat well.


Before Tinder, a Tree

Looking for your soulmate? Write a letter to the "Bridegroom's Oak" in Germany.


The Health Benefits of Going Outside

People spend too much time indoors. One solution: ecotherapy.


Where High Tech Meets the 1950s

Why did Green Bank, West Virginia, ban wireless signals? For science.


Yes, Quidditch Is Real

How J.K. Rowling's magical sport spread from Hogwarts to college campuses


Would You Live in a Treehouse?

A treehouse can be an ideal office space, vacation rental, and way of reconnecting with your youth.

More in Politics

From This Author

Just In