The US military conducted strikes on Iranian military facilities in response to an Iranian attack on three US destroyers.

The institution designed to prevent this was the legislative declaration of war. It failed because the executive branch, acting through the military, has assumed the power to initiate hostilities in response to perceived threats without the prior consent of the representative assembly. The question is not whether the retaliation against Iran was morally justified or strategically necessary, but whether any institution exists that could have stopped it if it had been wrong. When the sword is drawn by the same hand that holds the purse and the pen, liberty does not die with a scream; it dies with the quiet click of a safety catch being removed.

In the American republic, as in the English constitution I studied so carefully, the separation of powers is not a mere theoretical elegance. It is a mechanical necessity. The executive must have the vigor to execute the laws, yes, but it must not have the discretion to define when the laws of peace cease and the laws of war begin. In this case, the US military struck Iranian facilities in the Strait of Hormuz. This is an act of war. Yet, the power to declare war resides in Congress. If the executive can decide that an attack on destroyers justifies a counter-strike without consulting the legislature, then the separation of powers is a fiction. The check has not merely been bypassed; it has been rendered obsolete by the speed of modern weaponry and the ambiguity of modern threats.

Consider the Roman Republic. The Senate held the power to declare war, but the consuls commanded the armies. When the consuls began to extend their commands indefinitely, and when the Senate’s authority eroded under the pressure of immediate military necessity, the Republic did not fall to a single tyrant overnight. It fell because the institutional checks were slowly hollowed out by the argument of expediency. “We must act now,” the generals said. “The Senate is too slow.” And so, the Senate became irrelevant. Today, we see the same pattern. The executive argues that the complexity of the Strait of Hormuz and the immediacy of the threat to US destroyers require unilateral action. But if the executive can define the threshold of “immediacy,” then the legislature has no power. The structure is compromised.

One might argue that the President, as Commander-in-Chief, has the inherent right to defend the nation. This is true. But defense is not the same as escalation. Striking military facilities in a foreign country is not merely defense; it is an expansion of conflict. In England, the Crown could not levy taxes or raise armies without Parliament. This was the great lesson of the Glorious Revolution. The American founders, wise men who read my work, attempted to replicate this balance. They gave the President the power to repel sudden attacks, but they reserved the power to initiate war for Congress. The distinction is vital. If every counter-strike is considered “defense,” then the President can wage war by a thousand cuts, each one justified by the previous provocation, until the nation is fully engaged in a conflict it never voted for.

The stakes here are immense. The Strait of Hormuz is a chokepoint for global oil shipping. A miscalculation by the executive, unchecked by legislative deliberation, could lead to a broader regional conflict. The comparative method teaches us that societies which concentrate power in the executive during times of crisis often find that the power remains concentrated long after the crisis has passed. The emergency becomes the norm. In France, before the Revolution, the King’s ministers could issue edicts that had the force of law. The parlements protested, but they were powerless. The result was not stability, but a slow accumulation of resentment and institutional decay. When the people realize that their representatives cannot stop the executive from dragging them into war, they lose faith in the constitution itself.

We must also consider the spirit of the laws. The American people value their freedom, but they also value security. The executive branch exploits this tension. It argues that only it can protect the nation from sudden dangers. But this argument is dangerous because it assumes that the executive is always rational and always restrained. History shows that executives are often driven by pride, by the desire for glory, or by the advice of generals who benefit from conflict. The legislature, being composed of many members with diverse interests, is slower, yes, but it is also more cautious. It is less likely to rush into war for the sake of prestige. By removing the legislative check, we remove the brake on executive ambition.

The contested facts of this event - whether Iran initiated the attack, the extent of the damage - are irrelevant to the constitutional question. Even if Iran attacked first, the decision to escalate by striking facilities in Iran should have been subject to legislative review. The executive may act in the immediate moment of defense, but it must report to Congress and seek authorization for continued hostilities. If it does not, it is usurping the legislative power. The check is not functioning because the executive has redefined the scope of its own authority.

In the end, the structural principle at stake is the preservation of liberty through the division of power. If the executive can wage war without the consent of the legislature, then the separation of powers is broken. The remedy is not to weaken the executive’s ability to defend the nation, but to strengthen the legislature’s ability to oversee and authorize the use of force. We must return to the design of the founders, who understood that liberty requires not just good leaders, but good structures. The structure must be such that even a bad leader cannot easily drag the nation into war. Currently, that structure is failing. The check is not merely under pressure; it is being dismantled by the very branch it was designed to constrain. The silence of the legislature is not peace; it is the sound of a check being removed.