So, here we are, December 29, the day back in 1845 when Texas officially joined the United States. That’s right, folks, Texas didn’t always belong to us—it used to be its own country, the Republic of Texas. For nine whole years, they had their own president, their own army, and probably their own early prototype of barbecue sauce. And then, like that guy who always swears he’s going to stay single forever, they gave in and joined the big dysfunctional family that is America. Welcome to the potluck, Texas. Bring chili.
But oh, Texas—you beautiful, oversized cowboy hat of a state—there’s this little rumor about you. People say you have some magical deal that lets you pack up your cowboy boots and secede from the Union whenever you want. Like, “We’re done here. Bye, y’all!” Spoiler alert: That’s not true. Sorry to burst your bubble.
The confusion comes from a quirky clause in Texas’s annexation deal that said, if they wanted, they could split into up to five states. Five Texases. Or is it Texii? Imagine that. Five states, each with their own football team, each convinced their BBQ is better than the other four. But here’s the thing—it was about dividing Texas, not seceding. Big difference. It’s like being told you can cut your pizza into as many slices as you want, not that you can leave the restaurant without paying.
And yet, this myth persists. People cling to it like it’s their last beer at a tailgate party. But legally? No dice. The Civil War settled that question—at a pretty steep cost, by the way—and the Supreme Court backed it up in 1869 with Texas v. White. They said states can’t just walk out of the Union whenever they feel like it. If that were the case, Florida would’ve seceded the first time a Yankee tried to make iced tea without sugar.
But let’s zoom out for a minute. The idea of splitting states or reorganizing them based on political or cultural differences? Now that’s a spicy topic. It’s like when Northern California and Southern Oregon said, “Let’s break off and make our own state—call it Jefferson!” Sounds like a great idea until you realize it’s just a way to combine weed farms and logging companies under one flag.
And then there’s the “Greater Idaho” movement, where conservative parts of Oregon want to join Idaho because they’re tired of Portland’s vegan hipsters and kale smoothies. It’s basically “The Odd Couple,” but with more guns and fewer gluten-free options.
Here’s the thing: letting states reorganize might not be the worst idea. Think about it. Wouldn’t it be nice if everyone could live in a place where people actually agree on things? Where you don’t spend Thanksgiving dodging political arguments with your uncle? We could have states like “California Prime” for the beachy liberals and “East California” for the desert libertarians. Everyone gets their own thing. It’s like a political buffet: take what you want, leave what you don’t.
Of course, the downside is that the United States starts looking less like a unified country and more like a patchwork quilt stitched together by drunk Betsy Ross. It’s messy. But hey, it’s not like the current setup is winning any awards for harmony. Just saying.
So as we look back on Texas’s big day, let’s remember: no, they can’t just peace out whenever they want. And yes, the idea of states breaking up or reorganizing isn’t completely nuts—it’s just mostly nuts. But if Texas ever does decide to split into five states, let’s hope they at least agree on which one gets to keep the Alamo.
