It wasn’t long after the smoke cleared in Isfahan, Natanz, and Fordow that the second explosion landed—on Capitol Hill. Except this one was pre-planned.
With the precision of a broken clock, Senator Tim Kaine (D-VA) preemptively introduced a War Powers resolution on June 16—five full days before the June 21 airstrikes—laying the groundwork for a headline-grabbing repudiation before a single B-2 Spirit had lifted off.
That’s right—before a single B-2 took flight, the legislative branch had already launched its own volley, aimed not at Tehran, but at the commander in chief. The phrase of the hour? “Unconstitutional.”
Except it isn’t. And never was.
The condemnation wasn’t just premature. It was constitutionally illiterate, strategically reckless, and politically performative.
Article II of the Constitution is clear: the president is the commander in chief of the Armed Forces of the United States. Full stop.
Article II, Section 2 vests operational command of the military in the president—not as ceremonial ornamentation, but as clear and foundational authority.
Let’s go further. The president’s authority isn’t grounded in the Constitution alone—it’s supported by statute as well.
The War Powers Act of 1973—ironically, the very law now being weaponized against Trump—explicitly acknowledges this power.
Section 2(c) of the Act, codified as 50 U.S. Code § 1541(c), affirms that the president may introduce U.S. forces into hostilities in response to “a national emergency created by attack upon the United States, its territories or possessions, or its armed forces.”
Over the past 46 years, Iran has unrelentingly targeted U.S. forces and interests.
It has proxied the killing of American troops through the IRGC and Hezbollah, kidnapped American citizens, murdered Americans, plotted to assassinate President Trump and others, threatened to close the Strait of Hormuz, and engaged in maritime piracy.
Tehran has operated as the chief patron of global terrorism—from Beirut to Baghdad to the Red Sea.
Iran also funds Houthi drone strikes on international shipping lanes and has made the destruction of both America and Israel the ideological touchstone of its regime.
For Tehran, nuclear weapons are not defensive instruments—they are the intended means to rain fire on the Western world and annihilate our civilization.
Whether acquisition was days, weeks, or months away should not matter. The goal has always been the same—and their determination is unwavering.
The national emergency is not hypothetical—it’s kinetic and enduring, spanning presidential administrations of both parties for decades.
President Trump took swift and decisive action to eliminate this threat—for now.
More to the point: Trump’s actions don’t require congressional preclearance of any sort.
The Constitution grants Congress the power to declare war under Article I, Section 8—but that’s a far cry from requiring approval for every individual use of force. And the distinction is deeply rooted in our constitutional tradition.
Alexander Hamilton, in Federalist No. 69, drew a sharp line between the powers of the president and those of a monarch.
Unlike the British king, who could both “declare war and raise and regulate fleets and armies,” the President would have “supreme command and direct the military and naval forces” once raised.
That is the core of Article II—and the proper response to those misrepresenting it today.
In our system, control of the military doesn’t mean congressional micromanagement.
The Framers established two distinct political branches: Congress to declare war when appropriate and the president to exercise military command as the sole commander in chief.
Each branch has a role. But only one can serve as commander in chief in the moment of decision.
Operational secrecy and unified command often demand action before congressional deliberation can even begin.
This is a design feature of our constitutional system, one that the Founders deliberately embedded, and every president has understood, whether they were Federalists, Jeffersonian Republicans, Democrats, Whigs, or Republicans.
From the founding of the Republic, this precedent has held.
American history is replete with examples of Presidents exercising military power:
None of these actions involved formal declarations of war or new congressional authorization. Few drew more than muted protest. And none were denounced as “unconstitutional” by the opposition party’s leadership—until now.
And where, exactly, was the declaration of war for Korea? For Vietnam?
When was the last time Congress declared war? 1942—more than 80 years ago.
Now, suddenly, a limited strike on Iranian nuclear sites is the red line?
Spare us.
In 2016 alone, President Obama dropped over 26,000 bombs across seven countries—an astounding average of 72 per day—without a single new Authorization for Use of Military Force (AUMF) from Congress. Some of these strikes occurred in undeclared war zones like Libya, Somalia, Yemen, and Pakistan—countries never named in the 2001 or 2002 AUMFs.
President Trump’s critics, who invoke the War Powers Resolution, often overlook the plain language of the Act. It does not require congressional approval before limited military action. It requires the president to notify Congress within 48 hours and to seek authorization only if hostilities persist for more than 60 days.
In this case, President Trump’s strikes were completed in a matter of hours—no prolonged engagement, no ground invasion, no sustained combat—and congressional leadership was promptly notified.
Not a single American was harmed—except, perhaps, the constitutional truth about the separation of powers. For that injury, Democrat leadership—and a handful of Republican outliers, such as Thomas Massie—owe the country an explanation.
To cry “unconstitutional” over a lawful, surgical strike is not just disingenuous—it’s a disservice to our military and citizenry. It undermines morale, misleads the public, and emboldens adversaries who perceive political division as a sign of weakness.
This latest operation was a precise, limited strike—squarely within the president’s constitutional authority and requiring neither a declaration of war nor preauthorization.
It was narrower in scope than operations ordered by Clinton, Obama, or Biden. Yet it achieved more: Tehran’s nuclear ambitions appear to have been kneecapped, and though a ceasefire was briefly in place, Israel has since accused the Iranian regime of violating it.
War powers debates can strengthen the Republic—when conducted in good faith and at the right time.
But reflexive, theatrical, hyper-partisan posturing is not statesmanship.
If congressional leaders truly wish to reassert their authority, they should start by respecting the Constitution and the actual text of the War Powers Act—not hijacking headlines after the commander in chief has done his duty.
And certainly not with performative impeachment threats or demands that tie the president’s hands while our enemies reload.
The Constitution—including its carefully drawn separation of war powers—is not a suicide pact. And it must not be twisted into one by those seeking political advantage in a dangerous, often unforgiving world.
Charlton Allen is an attorney and former chief executive officer and chief judicial officer of the North Carolina Industrial Commission. He is founder of the Madison Center for Law & Liberty, Inc., editor of The American Salient, and host of the Modern Federalist podcast. His commentary has been featured in American Thinker and linked across multiple RealClear platforms, including RealClearPolitics, RealClearWorld, RealClearDefense, RealClearHistory, and RealClearPolicy. X: @CharltonAllenNC
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