In recent weeks, Washington has witnessed one of the clearest displays of congressional passivity in the face of an unchecked expansion of executive power. During his second term, President Donald Trump has not only pushed the boundaries of his authority in foreign and economic policy but has effectively sidelined Congress from the decision-making process altogether. On crucial issues such as trade tariffs, war powers, and military operations against Venezuela, Republicans—through silence or complicity—have allowed the president to turn the U.S. Constitution into a pliable tool for advancing his own political will.
Last month, the Senate held three key votes aimed at curbing Trump’s sweeping global tariffs—tariffs imposed under dubious and often contradictory justifications: from declaring a “fentanyl emergency” at the Canadian border to “responding to a lawsuit against Bolsonaro” in Brazil. These decisions were made not in the national interest, but to serve the political and personal goals of the president and his allies. Although the resolutions narrowly passed the Senate, their prospects in the House of Representatives remain dim. Republican leaders are using procedural maneuvers to block them from reaching a vote. In effect, the party that once championed free markets has now knelt before Trump’s brand of populist protectionism.
Senator Adam Schiff, in a warning speech, reminded colleagues that power has been gradually flowing from Congress to the White House for half a century, but what has occurred in recent months marks an unprecedented leap. He cautioned: “The powers of war and the purse are the pillars of legislative authority. If Congress yields both, nothing of the Republic will remain.”
Alongside the tariff disputes, the Trump administration’s military operations in the Caribbean—near Venezuela’s shores—offer another example of constitutional decay. Citing a “war on narco-terrorism,” the White House ordered naval strikes against boats suspected of drug trafficking. These attacks have already claimed dozens of lives, yet their legal basis remains murky. Two Republican senators, Lisa Murkowski and Rand Paul, joined Democrats in an effort to revoke Trump’s war authorizations and prohibit any military action against Nicolás Maduro without explicit congressional approval. That effort narrowly failed—a repeat of a similar vote back in October.
What is even more troubling is the unwillingness of most Republicans to even question the real purpose of these operations. Senator Jim Risch, the chair of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, defended the administration by claiming that “the president is decisively protecting American lives from the drug threat.” Yet no clear evidence links the victims of these strikes to trafficking networks. In some cases, survivors were immediately released because local authorities found no legal grounds to detain them. Senator Mark Kelly of the Armed Services Committee admitted that the classified briefings provided by the administration were “incomplete, inconsistent, and misleading.” He added, “The government refused to explain its own legal rationale and contradicted itself when describing the goals of these missions.”
The roots of today’s crisis lie not only in Trump’s behavior but also in the Republican Party’s blind loyalty to him. The party that once prided itself on law, accountability, and economic order now tolerates lawlessness and political chaos. In the tariff debate, nearly all Republican members of the House opposed repealing Trump’s measures—even those who had once defended free trade in previous administrations. This transformation reflects a deeper submission to personality-driven politics. Rather than acting as a constitutional counterweight, Congress has been pushed to the sidelines, reduced to a rubber stamp for presidential will. What was once called “checks and balances” has become a bitter joke.
Jordan Tama, a professor at American University, points out that the legal foundation of Trump’s tariff decisions—the International Emergency Economic Powers Act—has clearly been stretched beyond its intent. “A chronic trade deficit or a court case involving a foreign politician cannot be deemed an extraordinary threat to U.S. national security,” he notes. Yet most Republicans have chosen loyalty over legality, joining the ranks of Trump’s faithful instead of defending the rule of law.
Outwardly, America still presents itself as a democracy grounded in the rule of law. In reality, power has concentrated in the hands of one man to a degree unseen in modern times. If this trend continues, it could erode oversight institutions and render the legislative branch irrelevant. History shows that unchecked power inevitably breeds abuse—and signs of such abuse are already evident in Trump’s impulsive decisions on trade and war.
If the Supreme Court fails to issue a firm ruling to limit Trump’s tariff powers, and if Congress cannot awaken a shred of institutional conscience, the separation of powers may soon collapse entirely. The United States could find itself drifting toward a form of “elective autocracy”—a system where the president alone decides matters of war, trade, and even law itself.
In such a climate, the moral and institutional decay of the Republican Party may prove even more dangerous than Trump’s policies. The party that once claimed to defend the Constitution now turns a blind eye to its violation. If this trajectory continues, there is no guarantee that the next president—of any party—will not exploit the same unchecked authority.
American democracy now stands at a defining crossroads: it must either return to its principles or accept the slide toward a personalized system of power. Yet as long as Congress slumbers in complacency and Republican leaders remain intoxicated by the aura of power, the path back to law and balance seems further away than ever.
