In a recent and rather surprising piece, The Wall Street Journal highlighted growing frustrations among rural residents of states like Illinois, solidly Republican regions who feel disenfranchised by the political dominance of urban metropolises like Chicago and the wider Cook County. The article described sentiments among rural Illinoisans who increasingly view their state government as an unrepresentative body, one that governs in the interests of urban elites while neglecting or outright opposing the values, interests, and livelihoods of those living in less densely populated areas.
This frustration is not unique to Illinois; it resonates in states like California, Oregon, and New York, where rural and small-town residents feel marginalized by overwhelmingly urban legislatures and policies crafted by political majorities in the cities. It raises an important question: why should sparsely populated regions be bound indefinitely to the political dominance of a few, highly concentrated urban areas?
The idea that rural regions might seek autonomy from urban majorities has an intuitive appeal, especially when considering the arbitrary nature of state boundaries in the United States. Unlike France, England, or other nations rooted in medieval kingdoms and centuries-old cultural identities, states like Illinois and California are constructs of relatively recent history, products of political compromises and expedient geographic delineations. Many boundaries of these states reflect no natural or inherent connection among their inhabitants. This arbitrariness invites comparisons to the imperial cartography of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, where colonial powers carved up Africa and the Middle East into artificial nations that still grapple with the consequences of their incoherent borders. Why, then, should we expect places as disparate as Chicago and rural Illinois, or San Francisco and the farmlands of California’s Central Valley, to share common governance without conflict or resentment?
The argument for rural secession from urban-dominated states rests on several principles. First, it is fundamentally undemocratic to force people into perpetual political subjugation because they happen to live within arbitrarily drawn borders. Unlike democracy, properly republican government depends not just on majority rule but on the protection of minority rights, including the right to self-governance. When rural communities are systematically outvoted and overruled by urban majorities, they are effectively disenfranchised within their own states.
Take California, for example. The state’s Democratic supermajority is overwhelmingly driven by votes from urban centers like Los Angeles, San Francisco, and San Diego. Policies on taxation, land use, energy, and firearms, among others, reflect urban priorities that often clash with the values and economic needs of rural Californians. Yet rural residents have no realistic avenue to influence these policies. Similarly, in Illinois, the power concentrated in Chicago and its suburbs ensures that Republican voters in the rest of the state remain politically irrelevant. It is no wonder, then, that some rural communities express a desire to break free from this arrangement.
Secession is not an unthinkable proposition in the United States. History provides a clear precedent in the case of West Virginia. During the Civil War, the northwestern counties of Virginia, which opposed joining the Confederacy, broke away and formed their own state with the approval of the U.S. Congress. While the Civil War was an extraordinary circumstance, the principle remains: Congress has the power to authorize the creation of new states, and it has done so before. There is no legal or constitutional reason that it could not do so again.
If rural Illinois or inland California sought to separate from their urban-dominated counterparts, Congress could approve their petitions, creating new states that better reflect the political and cultural identities of their residents. Critics might object that this would lead to an unwieldy proliferation of states, but the United States already manages fifty diverse states, and adding a few more would hardly strain the system. Moreover, the creation of smaller, more cohesive states could lead to more responsive governance and less political polarization.
To illustrate the absurdity of the current system, consider a thought experiment. Imagine extending California’s boundaries eastward into the sparsely populated regions of Nevada, creating a massive new state that includes the Democratic urban centers of California and the Republican rural areas of Nevada. Would it be fair to expect rural Nevadans to submit to policies crafted by Sacramento’s Democratic supermajority? The answer is clearly no. Yet this is precisely the situation faced by rural Californians, whose voices are drowned out by urban majorities in Los Angeles and San Francisco.
Alternatively, imagine carving out Cook County and declaring it a separate state. Residents of rural Illinois would no longer be subjected to governance by Chicago politicians whose priorities align with urban voters but diverge dramatically from the interests of farmers, small business owners, and rural communities. Such a realignment would likely result in governance more tailored to the needs of both regions, fostering greater satisfaction and reducing political alienation.
Critics of secessionist movements argue that splitting states along urban-rural lines would exacerbate political polarization, creating deep blue urban states and deep red rural states. While this is a valid concern, the current arrangement already produces significant polarization by forcing fundamentally different constituencies into conflict. Allowing regions to govern themselves according to their own values could reduce the intensity of these conflicts by removing the need for constant political battles over irreconcilable differences.
Moreover, secession movements could serve as a corrective to the increasing concentration of political and economic power in urban centers. Decentralization of governance would empower rural communities, giving them greater control over their own affairs and fostering a sense of political efficacy. This, in turn, could reduce the feelings of frustration and alienation that drive political extremism and resentment.
Of course, the frustrations of rural residents in Illinois and California are not unique; they are a microcosm. Across the country, rural communities feel increasingly disconnected from urban-dominated state governments that do not represent their values or address their needs. The arbitrary nature of state boundaries, combined with the precedent set by West Virginia, makes the case for rural secession movements both reasonable and compelling. While secession is not a panacea, it offers a path toward more responsive governance and a more equitable distribution of political power. In a democracy, no community should be forced to live under the perpetual dominance of a distant majority. By allowing rural regions to govern themselves, the United States can uphold the principles of self-determination and minority rights that are essential to its political system.
The only real surprise in all this is that The Wall Street Journal would dare to broach such a topic as secession in a manner that was not explicitly condemnatory. Those interested in learning more should consult the Ludwig von Mises Institute’s Ryan McMaken and his great book on the subject of secession.
