For the Republic
Command Center / 📄 Article / 2026-03-15

The Ratchet: How America Learned to Wage War Without Permission

Draft Complete — Pending Author Review

Steelman

3/10

Steelman Analysis

Our Thesis (Restated)

The constitutional framework for war and peace is functionally dead, killed by a 75-year ratchet mechanism in which each executive war-power expansion locked into place and made the next expansion easier -- and the 212-219 House vote on Iran is not the system failing but the system performing exactly as it has been redesigned.

Primary Counterargument

The Constitution is not a suicide pact: Article II authority, historical gloss, and the nuclear exception

The strongest counterargument is not that the 212-219 vote was good, or that Congress should stay out of war. It is that the original constitutional framework was designed for a world of muskets and sailing ships, and that 75 years of bipartisan executive practice has not "killed" the founders' design so much as it has adapted it to a world the founders could not have imagined -- a world of nuclear weapons, intercontinental ballistic missiles, and threats that can materialize in minutes rather than months. On this view, what the article calls a "ratchet" is actually constitutional evolution through what legal scholars Curtis Bradley and Trevor Morrison term "historical gloss": the settled understandings that emerge when Congress and the executive branch repeatedly interact in ways that shift the practical boundaries of their respective powers.

The argument runs as follows. The Prize Cases (1862) established that when the nation faces an imminent threat, the president is "not only authorized but bound to resist force by force" without waiting for congressional action. For 160 years, this principle has been reaffirmed and expanded -- not by rogue executives, but by a consistent pattern of bipartisan practice in which Congress acquiesced, funded, and often quietly supported presidential military action. When Truman went to Korea, Congress appropriated the money. When Obama struck Libya, the Senate Foreign Relations Committee held hearings but did not vote to stop him. When Trump struck Syria twice, Congress barely objected. This pattern of legislative acquiescence is not, on the historical-gloss view, evidence of institutional failure. It is evidence that both branches, through decades of practice, have reached a functional settlement: the president acts, Congress funds and oversees, and formal declarations are reserved for total wars of national mobilization.

Applied to Iran specifically, the argument gains teeth. Before the February 2026 strikes, the Defense Intelligence Agency assessed that Iran needed "probably less than one week" to produce enough weapons-grade uranium for a nuclear weapon. Iran was enriching to 60%, had restricted IAEA inspections, and was accumulating a bomb's worth of highly enriched uranium per month. Diplomacy had been tried -- Operation Midnight Hammer in June 2025 was explicitly limited to create space for negotiation; Iran rejected diplomatic overtures and the 15-day ultimatum. The window for effective action was closing. In this context, the argument goes, requiring the president to navigate a floor vote in two chambers -- with all the attendant leaks, partisan posturing, and signaling to adversaries -- before acting against a near-nuclear-threshold state is not constitutional fidelity. It is constitutional fetishism that could get millions of people killed.

Major General Charles Dunlap, writing at Duke's Lawfire blog, concluded that under current domestic law "no constitutional violation occurred" in the Iran strikes, while simultaneously arguing that "democratic governance demands deliberate congressional engagement on matters of war." This is the most intellectually honest version of the counterargument: it does not claim Congress is irrelevant, but that the legal framework -- as actually practiced by both parties for three-quarters of a century -- permits what happened. The question is not whether the system should work this way, but whether it does work this way as a matter of settled constitutional practice.

Who Makes This Argument

This is the position of mainstream national security lawyers in both parties, the Office of Legal Counsel across administrations (which has consistently held that Article II permits presidential force when it serves "sufficiently important interests" and the "anticipated nature, scope, and duration" does not amount to "war"), conservative legal scholars like John Yoo and Robert Delahunty, centrist scholars like Curtis Bradley, hawkish policy institutions like JINSA and AEI, and a significant number of Democrats who served in the Obama administration and defended the Libya intervention. It is also, implicitly, the position of every president since Truman -- including Obama and Clinton -- who launched military operations without congressional authorization.

Why It Has Merit

Three things about this argument are genuinely true and the article must not pretend otherwise.

First, the nuclear threat was real. This was not Iraq's WMDs. The IAEA confirmed Iran's enrichment levels. The intelligence community assessed a breakout timeline of weeks. Reasonable people could disagree about whether strikes were the right response, but the threat itself was not fabricated.

Second, the historical-gloss argument has genuine legal weight. The Supreme Court has repeatedly recognized that longstanding executive-legislative practice can inform constitutional meaning. The fact that Congress has acquiesced to presidential military action for 75 years is not irrelevant to understanding what the Constitution permits. You cannot simply invoke the founders and ignore everything that happened after 1789.

Third, the WPR itself concedes the point. The War Powers Resolution -- the very statute that was supposed to constrain executive war-making -- explicitly grants the president 60 days of unilateral military action. Even the architects of the congressional constraint acknowledged that some window of presidential discretion was necessary. The 60-day clock on Iran did not expire until late April 2026. Until that moment, the president was operating within the statutory framework that Congress itself created.

Where It Falls Short

The argument ultimately fails because it conflates presidential defensive authority with presidential offensive war-making -- and the Iran operation is unambiguously the latter. The Prize Cases authorized the president to respond to an active armed rebellion; Iran was not attacking the United States when the strikes began. The DIA's breakout assessment described a capability timeline, not an imminent attack. As the Arms Control Association noted, neither Trump nor Netanyahu "presented any evidence of an ongoing weaponization effort," and IAEA Director General Grossi said "we don't see a structured program to manufacture nuclear weapons." A threshold capability is not the same as an imminent threat.

More fundamentally, the historical-gloss argument proves too much. If 75 years of practice can effectively amend the Constitution's war-powers allocation without a formal amendment, then the Constitution's text is meaningless as a constraint -- any power the executive exercises long enough simply becomes the executive's power. This is not constitutional evolution; it is constitutional entropy. And the logical endpoint is exactly where we are: a president who can launch a war against a sovereign nation, call it a war, and simultaneously claim he does not need permission. If that is what the Constitution permits, then the Constitution no longer constrains anything, which is precisely the article's thesis.

The nuclear argument also inverts the logic of democratic accountability. If the threat is genuinely grave -- if millions of lives are at stake -- that is more reason to involve Congress, not less. Congressional authorization would have strengthened the operation's legitimacy, shared responsibility across branches, and ensured that a decision of this magnitude reflected democratic consent. Even the Bush administration, which was not known for constitutional humility, came to Congress for the Iraq AUMF. JINSA -- a hawkish pro-Israel institution -- argued that Congress should pass an AUMF for Iran, not because the president lacked authority, but because formal authorization would strengthen the mission. The "responsible hawk" position undermines the claim that authorization was unnecessary.

Secondary Counterarguments

Congressional Avoidance as Rational Institutional Design

Professor Matthew Waxman at Yale argues that "congressional political checks on presidential war powers work better than many reformists credit." His case: Congress influences military operations through multiple channels beyond formal authorization -- pre-crisis legislation (like the Taiwan Relations Act), funding decisions, oversight hearings, and political signaling. He points to historical cases where congressional pressure actually constrained presidents: Vietnam (where "congressional threats of legislation contracted the geographic scope of war"), Lebanon (where congressional opposition pushed Reagan to redeploy offshore), and Somalia (where Congress pressured Clinton to end the intervention). On this view, the article's "ratchet" framework overstates the unidirectionality of the process by focusing exclusively on formal authorization and ignoring the informal channels through which Congress shapes military policy.

This argument has a real kernel of truth -- Congress does exercise influence through appropriations, hearings, and political pressure. But Waxman's examples are all pre-hyper-partisan: they describe congresses willing to cross party lines on war. The 2026 Iran votes demonstrate that when party discipline is absolute -- when 99.1% of House Republicans vote to continue an unauthorized war launched by a Republican president -- the informal political checks Waxman describes evaporate. His framework may have described reality in 1983 or 1993. It does not describe reality in 2026.

The "System Isn't Broken, Just Partisan" Argument

A related counterargument holds that the real problem is not structural erosion of war powers but acute partisan polarization. If even five more House Republicans had the independence of Massie and Davidson, the resolution would have passed. The constitutional mechanism exists; it simply could not overcome party-line loyalty in this particular instance. On this view, the Iran vote is not evidence that war powers are dead -- it is evidence that the current Republican caucus is unusually disciplined and unwilling to challenge a president of their own party. The fix is not structural reform but electoral change: elect members willing to exercise independent judgment.

This argument correctly identifies partisanship as the proximate cause of the 212-219 result. But it mistakes a symptom for the disease. Congressional war powers have been eroding under unified and divided government, under Democratic and Republican presidents, for 75 years. Obama did not seek authorization for Libya under a Democratic Senate. Clinton did not seek authorization for Kosovo under a Republican Congress. The bipartisan erosion predates and transcends the current hyper-partisan moment. Partisanship made the March 5th vote party-line, but the structural conditions that made the vote insufficient to stop a war -- the toothless WPR, the judicial refusal to intervene, the absence of enforcement mechanisms -- were built by both parties over decades.

The "60-Day Clock Hasn't Expired" Argument

A narrow but legally precise counterargument: as of the March 5th vote, the WPR's 60-day clock had not yet run out. The president was operating within the statutory window that Congress itself created in 1973. The real test comes in late April 2026, when the clock expires. If the president continues operations past that deadline without authorization, then the system has failed its own test. Until that moment, the alarm is premature.

This is technically correct and the article should acknowledge the timeline. But it is also the argument of someone watching a car drive toward a cliff and insisting we should wait until it goes over before concluding the brakes have failed. Congress already voted against asserting its authority. No court will enforce the deadline. The president has already signaled he will continue regardless. The 60-day clock is a dead letter, and everyone involved knows it. Waiting for its formal expiration to declare the system broken is like waiting for a death certificate before acknowledging the body is cold.

Our Weak Points

1. The Gulf War exception is more significant than we acknowledge. The article treats the 1991 Gulf War as an anomaly that "proves the rule." But an honest analysis should grapple with why it was an exception. Bush I sought authorization because he faced a Congress controlled by the opposing party with a strong institutional culture of asserting war powers (the post-Vietnam generation was still in leadership). If the right political conditions can produce constitutional compliance, then the system is not structurally dead -- it is contingently dormant. The ratchet metaphor implies mechanical irreversibility, but the Gulf War shows that political will can reverse the direction. The article needs to explain why the Gulf War exception does not invalidate the ratchet framework rather than simply noting it in passing.

2. The "ratchet" metaphor may overstate directionality. A ratchet is a precise mechanical device. The actual history is messier. Congress repealed the Tonkin Resolution. Congress passed the WPR over a presidential veto. Congress voted to authorize the Gulf War. Congress voted against Obama's proposed Syria strikes in 2013 (leading Obama to back down). These are all moments where the mechanism moved in the "wrong" direction for the ratchet framework. The article needs to address these counter-examples or the metaphor will not survive contact with an informed reader.

3. The article's framing risks conflating constitutional authority with constitutional wisdom. The strongest version of the opposing argument does not claim Congress is irrelevant. It claims that the legal framework has evolved through historical practice, while political norms should still encourage presidents to seek authorization. Dunlap's position -- no constitutional violation, but democratic governance demands engagement -- is genuinely hard to argue against, because it occupies the ground between the article's two claims: that the system is broken (legally true, Dunlap concedes) and that it should not be (normatively true, Dunlap agrees). The article needs to engage with this middle position rather than treating every opponent as a unitary authoritarian.

4. The partisan framing is a vulnerability. The 212-219 vote was party-line. The article acknowledges this risk but may not sufficiently mitigate it. A skeptical reader could conclude that the article is not really about war powers at all -- it is about opposing the Iran war specifically, dressed up in constitutional language. The 75-year bipartisan history is the antidote, but it needs to be the load-bearing structure of the piece, not a parenthetical. Obama on Libya, Clinton on Kosovo, and Democratic congresses that funded every war since Korea must get as much weight as the Republican caucus's March 5th vote.

5. The "system optimized for the wrong thing" framing cuts in multiple directions. If Congress is rationally choosing not to decide because members benefit from avoiding accountability, then the "fix" requires changing the incentive structure, not just shaming Congress. But the article does not fully engage with what that fix would look like. The Harvard JOL paper proposes automatic authorization expiration dates and mandatory votes. The article should at least gesture at whether structural reforms could reset the ratchet, or whether the political incentives are truly insurmountable. Otherwise the piece risks landing as pure diagnosis with no path forward -- which conflicts with the brand's commitment to earned hope.

Recommended Handling

Address the Article II / historical gloss argument head-on (Primary Counterargument -- must get airtime). This is the one that sophisticated readers and legal scholars will raise. The article should not dismiss it but rather draw the critical distinction: presidential defensive authority to repel sudden attacks is one thing; launching a full-scale offensive war against a sovereign nation is another. The Iran operation crossed that line the moment it became regime change. Concede the legal weight of historical gloss, then argue that accepting it fully means accepting that the Constitution's text has been functionally amended without the amendment process -- which is, again, exactly the article's thesis about what has happened.

Proactively raise the Gulf War and Syria 2013 as counter-examples (Weak Point #2 -- raise before critics do). The ratchet metaphor is the article's engine. If it cannot survive these counter-examples, the piece collapses. The response: these moments show that the ratchet can be paused when specific political conditions align (opposing-party Congress, strong institutional norms, a president willing to comply). But those conditions have become rarer with each decade. The ratchet's directionality is not perfect, but the trend line over 75 years is unmistakable: each generation of politicians draws a new line behind whatever the executive is already doing.

Acknowledge the nuclear threat honestly (Primary Counterargument -- concede and pivot). Spend a sentence or two conceding the threat was real and the intelligence was not fabricated. Then pivot: the magnitude of the threat is precisely why democratic consent matters. The bigger the decision, the more important it is that it reflect the will of the people. Even the Bush administration understood this.

Use Waxman sparingly but fairly (Secondary Counterargument -- brief acknowledgment). Note that informal congressional checks have historically mattered, then show why they failed in the hyper-partisan context of 2026. One paragraph, maximum.

Do not address the "60-day clock" argument at length (Secondary Counterargument -- brief dismissal). It is technically correct and practically irrelevant. Note the timeline, note that everyone knows the deadline will not be enforced, move on.

Lean hard on the bipartisan erosion history to mitigate the partisan vulnerability (Weak Point #4 -- structural emphasis). Obama, Clinton, and Democratic congresses must appear as prominently as the Republican caucus. The article's credibility depends on demonstrating that this is a 75-year structural problem, not a one-vote partisan complaint.