In just a matter of weeks, President Donald Trump has shaken the global order—toppling Venezuela’s leadership, threatening military action against its
neighbors, floating new strikes on Iran, and triggering a diplomatic firestorm in Europe over his push to acquire Greenland. As these events unfolded at breakneck speed, one institution has repeatedly failed to keep pace: the US Congress. Despite growing unease on Capitol Hill, lawmakers have struggled to reclaim their constitutional authority over war and foreign policy. A stark example came this week when the Republican-led House narrowly defeated a resolution aimed at restricting Trump’s ability to deploy US troops to Venezuela—nearly three weeks after a dramatic US operation captured the country’s president. The vote ended in a 215–215 tie, effectively greenlighting the White House’s actions after the fact. According to lawmakers from both parties, this paralysis reflects a deeper, decades-long erosion of congressional power—now accelerated by Trump’s dominance over the Republican Party and the evolving nature of modern conflict. A Congress Watching From the Sidelines In response to Trump’s aggressive posture toward Greenland, a bipartisan group of US lawmakers rushed to Copenhagen last week to calm European allies. But even as they attempted damage control, many privately acknowledged that Congress no longer functions as an equal branch in matters of war and peace. “Congress has ceded its authority in far too many areas,” said Senator Lisa Murkowski of Alaska during the trip. “We can’t just complain about executive overreach—we have to confront our own failure.” Yet those efforts have so far fallen short. The current Congress has not reversed the steady transfer of power to the presidency—power that successive administrations have used to wage wars, impose sanctions, and redraw geopolitical red lines with minimal legislative oversight. Representative Sara Jacobs of California described the situation bluntly: the problem is not just Trump, but “decades of Congress completely abrogating its responsibility.” Why the System Is Breaking The US Constitution grants Congress the power to declare war, while making the president commander in chief. But history has steadily blurred that line. From Korea and Vietnam to Iraq and Afghanistan, presidents have repeatedly launched or expanded military actions without formal declarations of war. After 9/11, Congress itself handed the executive branch sweeping authority through open-ended Authorizations for Use of Military Force—powers that never expired and are still invoked today. At the same time, warfare itself has changed. Terror groups don’t declare war. Economic weapons—sanctions, tariffs, export controls—now sit alongside missiles and troops. Presidents increasingly frame military actions as “law enforcement” or “defensive measures,” sidestepping congressional approval altogether. Trump’s administration has leaned heavily into this gray zone, arguing that operations like the Venezuela raid do not constitute traditional warfare—and therefore don’t require Congress’s consent. Republicans Close Ranks Most Republicans have rallied behind Trump’s assertive foreign policy, portraying it as a long-overdue rejection of the global status quo. The White House insists Trump is simply doing what past presidents lacked the courage to attempt—especially on issues like Greenland, which the administration says is critical to US Arctic security and missile defense. Only a small number of GOP lawmakers have openly pushed back, and even fewer have followed through. When several Republican senators briefly supported a measure to curb Trump’s war powers in Venezuela, the president responded furiously—publicly attacking them and warning they should “never be elected again.” Within days, key defectors reversed course after receiving private assurances from the administration that it would consult Congress before any major escalation. Critics say the episode exposed how easily legislative resistance collapses under pressure from the White House. A Dangerous Precedent Foreign officials, particularly in Europe, have watched these developments with alarm. Danish leaders welcomed congressional outreach over Greenland—but privately admitted that Trump’s rhetoric and actions matter far more than lawmakers’ reassurances. Even Trump’s recent statement that Greenland would be acquired through negotiation—not force—did little to calm nerves. As Denmark’s foreign minister put it, the president’s ambition “remains intact.” Back in Washington, some lawmakers warn that the long-term consequences could be severe. By allowing presidential war powers to expand unchecked, Congress risks making itself irrelevant—setting precedents that future presidents of either party will exploit. “The precedents we tolerate today will be used against us tomorrow,” warned Representative Thomas Massie. For now, Trump’s grip on foreign policy remains firm, Congress remains divided, and the constitutional balance envisioned by America’s founders continues to tilt—quietly, but dramatically—toward the Oval Office.
