





Rep. Steve Cohen, the sole Democrat in Tennessee's congressional delegation, choked back tears on camera Friday as he explained why he would not seek reelection to the Memphis-based seat he has held since 2007. The 18-year congressman told NewsNation's Chris Cuomo that the state's new congressional map left him with no viable path to victory, and no reason to pretend otherwise.
Tennessee Gov. Bill Lee signed the redrawn map into law on May 7. The new lines slice the old 9th District, a majority-minority seat centered on Memphis, into three Republican-leaning districts. Cohen said the result was a foregone conclusion.
The New York Post reported that Cohen became visibly emotional during the interview, breaking down as he reflected on the district and its voters. The moment was striking, not because redistricting is new, but because Cohen's reaction laid bare a political reality Democrats have struggled to accept in Tennessee for years: the state's Republican supermajority holds the pen, and it draws the lines.
Cohen pushed back against critics who urged him to stay in the race and fight regardless of the odds. He told Cuomo plainly:
"Why would you fight when they changed the district and there aren't enough votes for you to win? That's silly."
He also described the mid-decade redistricting as something "almost never done," casting the move as an extraordinary effort aimed squarely at him.
The congressman's frustration was directed at Republicans in Washington and at the governor. Cohen accused Lee of caving to pressure from President Trump and congressional Republicans who wanted to squeeze one more House seat out of the Volunteer State. The Step 1 package does not include independent verification of that accusation, and neither Lee nor Trump responded to it in the material available.
Cohen told reporters in a separate appearance, as the Washington Times reported, that the redrawn seat bore no resemblance to the one he had served for nearly two decades.
"I don't want to quit. I'm not a quitter. But these districts were drawn to beat me."
That quote captures the bind Cohen found himself in. He did not retire voluntarily. He was redistricted out, and he knows it.
The Tennessee General Assembly approved a new congressional map that splits Memphis among three districts, diluting Democratic voting power across the region. The Washington Examiner reported that the move could give Republicans all nine of Tennessee's congressional seats after the next election, a clean sweep in a state where Democrats have clung to a single district for years.
Cohen's office confirmed that the old majority-Black district was carved into three new Republican-leaning seats by the state legislature. Tennessee's primaries are set for August 6.
Republicans moved to redraw the map in the aftermath of what the primary source describes as the Supreme Court's gutting of Section 2 of the Voting Rights Act. That legal shift gave state legislatures wider latitude to reshape districts that had previously been protected under federal voting-rights law. Democrats in Virginia faced a similar redistricting setback when the Supreme Court declined to revive a Democratic-drawn map there.
Cohen filed a lawsuit challenging the new Tennessee map, but a federal judge declined to temporarily block it before ballot deadlines, the Washington Times noted. Cohen said he asked not to be included on the ballot in the redrawn 9th District, though he left the door open to running again if his legal challenge succeeds and the old district is restored.
The tears were real, and Cohen acknowledged them with a self-aware aside. He told Cuomo that his press conference drew more cameras than anything since a personal controversy in 2013 involving a woman named Victoria Brink, whom Cohen had publicly claimed was his biological daughter. A paternity test later showed she was not.
"It's funny, my press conference today is the most cameras I think I've had since the Victoria incident. And here we are again. And I got tears."
He then reflected on his long tenure representing a Black-majority district as a white congressman, a dynamic he described with evident pride.
"You know, it's an amazing thing that the African-American community supported me for 20 years as they did."
Cohen went further, accusing Republicans of indifference to the community he served. He said they "tear it apart because they have no perspective of caring about African-Americans or caring about people getting together and anything nice that happens." He added: "It's a tough sport, and they play it tough."
That accusation is worth examining on its merits. Redistricting is, as Cohen himself noted, a hard-nosed political exercise. Both parties engage in it when they hold the levers. Democrats drew aggressive maps in states like Illinois and Maryland when they had the chance. The difference in Tennessee is that Republicans hold a commanding majority in the legislature, the governorship, and the political will to use them.
Cohen's exit is not an isolated event. Democrats have watched their already thin bench in deep-red states shrink further as Republican legislatures redraw maps with increasing confidence after favorable court rulings. Virginia's Abigail Spanberger lashed out publicly after a similar legal defeat over redistricting lines in her state.
The emotional tenor of these reactions, tears from Cohen, anger from Spanberger, reveals something deeper than personal disappointment. It reflects a party that built its minority-district strategy on federal court protections and now finds those protections diminished.
Fox News reported that Cohen's office confirmed the Tennessee General Assembly redrew his majority-Black district into three Republican-leaning seats. Cohen said the redrawn 9th District was "nothing like the 9th District that I've represented." He would not run in any of the newly drawn districts unless the map is overturned.
Newsmax reported that Cohen warned the redistricting could leave Tennessee with an entirely Republican congressional delegation after the next election. That outcome would mark a complete shutout for Democrats in a state where they once held multiple seats.
The broader Democratic picture is not encouraging either. In Maine, a prominent Democrat recently dropped out of a Senate race, leaving the party scrambling. Across the map, the bench is thinning at the worst possible time.
Cohen's lawsuit remains pending. If a court restores the old 9th District boundaries, he has said he would consider reentering the race. But the federal judge's refusal to issue a temporary block before ballot deadlines suggests the legal road is steep.
Tennessee's August 6 primaries will proceed under the new map. If no court intervenes, the Memphis area, long a Democratic stronghold, will send Republican-leaning representatives to Washington for the first time in decades.
Cohen called the mid-decade redistricting something "almost never done." He is right that it is unusual. But unusual is not unlawful, and the legislature acted within its authority under current law. Whether that authority was exercised wisely or cynically is a political question, not a legal one, and voters in the newly drawn districts will render their own verdict in August.
Democrats can cry about redistricting, or they can win enough state legislatures to draw their own maps. Cohen chose tears. Tennessee Republicans chose the pen.



