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America’s Love and Trust Crisis
Mar 16, 2026
Last night, the President of the United States stood before Congress for nearly two hours and showed us exactly what America’s love and trust crisis looks like.
He called Democratic lawmakers “crazy.” He accused them of cheating. He pointed at half the chamber with contempt. Members of Congress shouted back. One was escorted out for holding a sign that read “Black People Aren’t Apes”—a reference to a video the President himself posted depicting the Obamas as primates. Democrats walked out. Republicans roared. The longest State of the Union in modern history became a spectacle of mutual degradation in the very chamber where we are supposed to govern ourselves together as one people under God.
The President declared a “golden age of America.” Sadly, what we witnessed was a nation talking past itself, at itself, and against itself—for 108 minutes.
This is not normal. And it is not just politics. It is a crisis of love and trust that reaches from the floor of the House chamber to your dinner table, where millions of American families can no longer share a meal without fear of political eruption.
I believe there is a way through this crisis. Not a partisan way—a human one. I learned it from a boy in Zambia, two former soldiers in the Middle East, and fifty voters in New Hampshire. Let me explain.
In 1998, I was a public health physician in Zambia when I met a boy named Justin. We got to talking at a gas station, and I invited him and his friends to share a chicken dinner. During the meal, I noticed Justin quietly stashing pieces of chicken into his pants. When I asked him why, he looked up at me with eyes full of compassion: “I’m taking some food for my grandmother.”
Justin was caring for his grandmother and looking out for the younger boys around him. He was already a leader—generous, strategic, and guided by love. He recognized, without anyone teaching him, that his life was bound up with theirs. And he acted on that recognition with love and trust. That’s the whole argument of this essay in a single gesture.
I’ve carried Justin’s lesson for nearly three decades—through the global AIDS movement, through my ordination as a Song of Songs Rabbi, and now into the fight for American democracy. What he demonstrated that evening is a chain of truths that I believe can address this crisis—from our most intimate relationships all the way to the structures of self-governance. Let me lay it out.
1. We Are Interdependent—and Recognizing That Is the Key to Our Flourishing
Last night’s speech was built on the opposite premise. It was a performance of dominance, division, and score-settling—a vision of America where one side wins and the other side is “crazy.” That is the logical endpoint of a mythology we’ve been telling ourselves for 250 years: rugged individualism. Pull yourself up by your bootstraps. Every person for themselves. This story has real consequences—it trains us to see neighbors as competitors first and collaborators later, if ever.
This tragic mythology doesn’t match reality. Your safety depends on people you’ll never meet. Your food depends on workers worldwide. Your children’s future is shaped by decisions made across this country and around the globe. No human being has ever been truly independent, and no nation has either.
Recognizing our interdependence is not a feel-good slogan. It is central to our individual and collective well-being and flourishing. When we deny it, we fragment. When we organize around it, extraordinary things become possible.
During the global AIDS crisis, a global solidarity movement brought together people with HIV/AIDS, conservative and liberal politicians, physicians, faith leaders, and pharmaceutical executives—into rooms full of conflict and competing interests. We aligned on the truth of our interdependence, with a focus on saving lives and caring for children, and over two decades we mobilized over $120 billion, saving 70 million lives and providing care for 7 million orphans.
Interdependence is not weakness. It is the foundation of every great human achievement. And in 2026—as we mark America’s 250th anniversary—we will decide whether this milestone becomes a moment of renewal or a marker of how far we’ve fallen apart. After last night, the love and trust crisis is undeniable, and the stakes could not be higher.
2. We Experience Interdependence as Love and Trust
If interdependence is the underlying reality, love and trust are how we actually feel it. Justin didn’t give me a lecture on interdependence—he showed me what it looks like. He cared for his grandmother. He looked out for the younger boys. That instinct to care for one another, to depend on one another, is what love and trust feel like in practice.
This is true in families, in friendships, and in communities. When we recognize that your well-being is bound up with mine, something shifts in how we relate. We move from transaction to relationship. From suspicion to care. That felt experience—of being genuinely connected to another person’s fate—is love and trust.
And right now, America is in the grip of a love and trust crisis. Last night made it impossible to ignore. A president who dehumanizes former leaders as apes and calls elected representatives “crazy” is not governing—he is destroying the connective tissue of a democracy.
Let me be clear: the crisis is not only his. It belongs to all of us. Families are fracturing over politics—people dread their own dinner tables. In just the first half of 2025, there were 150 politically motivated attacks in the United States—nearly double the previous year. We have lost the lived experience of our interdependence, and the crisis is spreading from our kitchen tables to our Capitol.
3. Peace Is the Presence of Love and Trust—Strong Enough to Hold Both Pain and Hope
The fight for AIDS funding took its toll on me. I was an angry activist, willing to destroy relationships to reach our goals. That anger strained my family, my friendships, and my own spirit. I didn’t like who I was becoming. It took years—and eventually my ordination as a Song of Songs Rabbi—to find a different path: serving with love rather than anger.
I confess: watching last night’s speech, I felt that old anger rising. The dehumanizing language. The contempt. The racism. Every instinct in me wanted to fight fire with fire. Fortunately, I’ve learned—painfully—that anger without love just produces more of what we saw on that House floor: people screaming past each other, each side more entrenched than before.
Then I remembered Magen and Ahmed. Six weeks after October 7th reignited war in the Middle East, I watched these former soldiers calling for peace together: Magen, a former Israeli soldier whose parents were murdered that day, and Ahmed, a former Palestinian combatant who had fifty relatives murdered in the retaliation that followed. When Ahmed asked whether he should leave their peace group—given that some of its members may have killed his family—the silence was unbearable. Then he whispered: “No. Our peace mission together is bigger than my anger.”
That moment crystallized the third link in the chain. Peace is not the absence of conflict. Peace is the presence of love and trust strong enough to hold both pain and hope at the same time. Magen and Ahmed didn’t resolve their grief. They held it—together. That is what peace actually looks like. And peace is a verb—it demands ongoing, active work. It demands a practice.
If America’s crisis is a crisis of love and trust, then what we need are tools to restore them. I began to imagine a “peace bell” ringing in my mind—calling me back, again and again, to that active work. I call the work peacecrafting.
4. Peacecrafting: Four Practices to Restore Love and Trust—Starting at Your Own Table
Peacecrafting begins where the crisis hits first: in your own relationships. Not in the House chamber—at your dinner table, in your workplace, in the conversations you’re dreading. It provides four interdependence practices that anyone can use—each one a reason for the peace bell to ring:
Listen as a Friend. I ask myself: WAIT—Why Am I Talking? That pause creates space. Instead of preparing my rebuttal, I look at the other person as a friend on a soul journey.
Embrace Multiple Perspectives. Love holds more than one truth. It allows for disagreement without demanding immediate resolution. Magen and Ahmed showed me this is possible even in the most extreme circumstances.
Speak with Love. Our words can build connection or destroy safety. Love speech doesn’t mean avoiding conflict—it means being honest and kind, direct and respectful, simultaneously. It is the opposite of what we witnessed last night.
Build Trust. When we listen as friends, hold multiple perspectives, and speak with love, something shifts. We begin to recognize a piece of our own story in the other person. That recognition is the seed of trust.
These four practices create a virtuous cycle—interdependence in action. Let me show you what it looks like. I’m in a meeting with my colleague Mary, debating how to allocate limited resources for a community project, and I catch myself saying, “Your analysis completely misses the fundamental problem...” My peace bell rings. She’s not my enemy. My language is sharp. I take a breath: “Help me understand, Mary—when you say this, how do you account for that?” Attack becomes inquiry. Defensiveness becomes dialogue.
It turns out Mary and I have completely different views on where the money should go. I get impatient. My peace bell rings again: Embrace Multiple Perspectives. I listen—curious, open. I learn new things. Now I’m holding two truths: we completely disagree, AND I embrace her perspectives. The message to Mary is: your story matters to mine. We are interdependent. And that builds trust.
Imagine if even one person on that House floor last night had a peace bell ringing.
5. From the Dinner Table to Our Democracy: Collective Peacecrafting Through Citizens’ Assemblies
Here is where peacecrafting scales from the dinner table to our democracy. If these practices can restore love and trust between two people, can they work for a whole society? I believe they can—when individual practices are embedded in collective structures designed for exactly this purpose.
In 2024, New Hampshire hosted America’s first statewide Citizens’ Assembly. Imagine, fifty residents—progressives, conservatives, independents—spent a weekend together working on election system reforms. Early on, a progressive activist said, “I feel locked out of democracy.” Twenty minutes later, a conservative voter said the exact same thing.
Their peace bells rang.
When they heard their shared fears, they became listening friends. They embraced multiple perspectives on redistricting and voter access. They practiced love speech—no attacking, only clarifying questions. Trust began to build as everyone recognized a piece of their own story in someone across the political divide.
By the end, the New Hampshire Citizens’ Assembly reached 80 percent consensus on key election reforms, which are now moving through the state legislature with cross-partisan support.
Compare that to what we saw last night: 108 minutes, zero consensus, deeper wounds.
This is not utopian thinking. This is what happens when we design democratic structures around the truth of our interdependence.
In Citizens’ Assemblies, interdependence is the operating system, and love and trust are the cognitive fuel of democracy. When people feel respected, it changes their brain chemistry—it keeps them at the table through conflict, opens their minds, and makes collaboration possible. This is how the love and trust crisis gets resolved—not just in our living rooms, but in our legislatures.
What if we established Citizens’ Assemblies in all fifty states? What if we convened a National Citizens’ Assembly to refresh the U.S. Constitution around the truth of our interdependence? Wouldn’t that be a peaceful revolution—actually working together to create a government of, by, and for all of the people?
After last night, we need that revolution more than ever.
Here’s What I’m Asking You to Explore
America’s love and trust crisis is real. Last night put it on national television for 108 minutes. But it is not inevitable. I’m asking you to explore your beliefs on five things, and each one depends on the one before it:
- That we are interdependent—and that recognizing this is essential to our flourishing.
- That we experience interdependence as love and trust in our relationships.
- That peace is the presence of love and trust strong enough to hold both pain and hope.
- That peacecrafting—four simple practices—can restore love and trust at your dinner table, in your workplace, in any relationship.
- And that collective peacecrafting through Citizens’ Assemblies can restore trust in our politics and fulfill the promise of democracy.
If you believe even the first link, the rest follows. And if the full chain holds, then what we need to resolve this crisis isn’t a miracle. It’s a practice.
Start Where You Are
You don’t need to wait for a Citizens’ Assembly to begin resolving this crisis. You don’t need to wait for a different president. Start where the crisis starts—at your own table. Next time you’re in a tense conversation—at dinner, in a meeting, online, in the wreckage of last night’s political despair—try this:
- Listen as a friend. Ask yourself: Why am I talking?
- Embrace multiple perspectives. Love holds more than one truth.
- Speak with love to build trust.
Use peacecrafting once, and you can restore love and trust in a moment. Use it consistently, and you can transform a relationship. Use it together, and we can restore trust from our dinner tables all the way to our democracy.
We are all that boy Justin, instinctively caring for others. We are all his grandmother, held up by someone else’s love. I can still see Justin looking up at me, chicken tucked into his pants, eyes full of compassion. He had already set a place at the table for his grandmother.
Last night, the President of the United States set a table of contempt. The question for the rest of us—for all of America in its 250th year—is which table we choose to sit at, and whether we’re ready to pull up a chair at an interdependence table for everyone.
Peace.
Dr. Paul Zeitz is the Co-Founder of #unifyUSA, an inter-partisan citizens' movement dedicated to Hit Refresh the U.S. Constitution through Citizens’ Assemblies and author of Hit Refresh on the U.S. Constitution: A Revolutionary Roadmap for Fulfilling on the Promise of Democracy and Revolutionary Optimism: 7 Steps for Living as a Love-Centered Activist.
America’s Love and Trust Crisis was originally published by Dr. Paul Zeitz’s Substack and is republished with permission.
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U.S. President Donald Trump delivers the State of the Union address during a joint session of Congress in the House Chamber at the Capitol on February 24, 2026 in Washington, DC.
(Photo by Kenny Holston-Pool/Getty Images)
Resilience Is Not a Workplace Strategy
Mar 15, 2026
In his State of the Union address this year, the president gloriously celebrated how the nation is “winning.” Timed to lead into Women’s History Month, he made a brief mention of how women successfully balance both work and child-rearing. These stories matter. Representation matters. However, there is danger in glorifying resilience, particularly when it allows toxic workplace cultures to remain unchanged while employees absorb the cost.
Before we are employees, we are taught from an early age that freedom means pursuing “Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.” Yet for many American women—especially Black women—the conditions required for these pursuits are constrained by economic structures that consume the very time and energy needed to experience the joy of being fully alive and free. In fact, a national survey conducted by the American Psychological Association found that women consistently reported higher stress levels than men. And a poll by the National Women’s Law Center and Morning Consult specifically highlighted the number of Black women (more than half) who described how stress in the workplace adversely impacts their health.
This is a structural consequence of workplace cultures that normalize overload and treat exhaustion as evidence of commitment and loyalty. Not surprisingly, younger generations are increasingly unwilling to remain in workplaces that disregard personal wellness. According to a report from the Mather Institute, about 6 out of 10 Millennials and Gen Zers would leave their jobs if they believed their workplaces did not support their wellbeing. This shift signals a growing awareness that sustainable work requires respecting human limits. While frequently and unfairly framed as frailty, it is, more accurately, a refreshing reality about achieving sustainability.
After dedicating more than a decade to education and the nonprofit sector, I recently left the workforce voluntarily. The expectations for the workplace culture were unsustainable. Expectations and demands expanded while capacity and support did not. For example, when I raised concerns about managing an unrealistic workload and asked for guidance on prioritization, I was told, “Everything is a priority.”
My experiences are not unique to me or to nonprofit organizations. They reflect a broader culture of overwork that treats productivity and eventual burnout as the primary measure of value. When “everything is a priority," employees internalize the burden.
My decision to leave paid work was not an act of retreat but an interruption. In this pause, I began to see more clearly how the structure of work had shaped my life. I operated out of a scarcity of time because there was none. I now exercise twice a day. I signed up to volunteer in my community, something I had wanted to do for years but could not schedule while working full-time.
My decision to leave paid work fits into a broader pattern of exit, such as the rise of “BLAXIT,” a movement in which Black families are choosing to leave the U.S. in search of safety, stability, and peace. These decisions are not impulsive but a response to cumulative stress compounded by unbearable economic, racial, and political unrest that makes living, let alone thriving, feel impossible.
Leaving your job is not reasonable for everyone in this economy, but there are small ways to liberate yourself. We can engage in small, consistent acts that conserve our energy and invite intentional ways of living beyond productivity alone.
To be sure, the decision to leave paid work may reinforce the justifications used to push women out of the workforce into more "traditional" roles outside the labor market. In these roles, women cannot exercise economic freedom or influence institutional work policies to create work environments that are equally fair for all.
But the response cannot be silent resilience inside systems that harm wellbeing. Workplace culture, whether stated explicitly or not, is experienced by employees and should not be accidental.
Employers cannot continue celebrating the resilience and achievements of women while designing workplaces that depend on that same resilience. If organizations are serious about retention and productivity, they must:
- Set realistic workloads.
- Train managers to clarify decisions and priorities.
- Treat rest as a condition for sustained performance.
Tools like Preferences, Traditions, and Requirements (PTR) can help leaders distinguish essential outcomes from habits and personal preferences, aligning teams on clear results rather than unspoken customs.
Women’s History Month invites us to ask not only what women have endured but what kind of lives we are able to imagine beyond endurance. Until we honestly confront these challenges, we can at least honor and celebrate:
The woman who reimagines.
The woman who rests.
The woman who resists.
Kamye Hugley is a Public Voices Fellow of The OpEd Project in partnership with the National Black Child Development Institute.
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(left to right): 1. Anabel Mendoza speaking at the Forum for 7th US Congressional District Democratic Candidates at Harry Caray’s 7th Inning Stretch in Streeterville. Video still. By Britton Struthers-Lugo, February 26, 2026.2. Jazmin Robinson (left) sitting at the Forum for 7th US Congressional District Democratic Candidates at Harry Caray’s 7th Inning Stretch in Streeterville. By Britton Struthers-Lugo, February 26, 2026. 3. Felix Tello speaking at the Forum for 7th US Congressional District Democratic Candidates at Harry Caray’s 7th Inning Stretch in Streeterville.
Video still. By Britton Struthers-Lugo, February 26, 2026. Illinois Latino News
Three candidates vie to become the first Latino Representative for Illinois Congressional District
Mar 15, 2026
United States Representative Danny Davis announced in July 2025 that he would not be seeking re-election in Illinois’s 7th Congressional District, motivating 13 Democrats and two Republicans to compete for the seat.
As the Illinois primary on March 17 approaches, three Latino candidates hope to become the Democratic nominee: Anabel Mendoza, Jazmin J. Robinson, and Felix Tello. The district has never had a Latino representative, and former Rep. Cardiss Collins remains the only woman to have served the district.
Home to neighborhoods such as Little Villa, Oak Park and the Loop, IL-7 spans 68.4 square miles and is the same district that former President Abraham Lincoln represented. The population is primarily Black, followed by white, Hispanic and Asian residents, respectively.
The district has experienced elevated and intense ICE activity during what the Trump administration called Operation Midway Blitz last year. Additionally, there is a wide income gap between areas since the district incorporates neighborhoods from the South and West side of Chicago.
The following vignettes give an overview to each candidate in alphabetical order by last name.
Anabel Mendoza
Lifelong resident of Chicago and daughter of Latino immigrants, 28-year-old Anabel Mendoza wants to focus on the working people of IL-7 and build a strong, equitable district that transcends generations.
Seeing her parents work hard and still struggle financially growing up motivated Mendoza to work toward improving her community. She is currently the communications director at United We Dream, a youth-led immigration network focused on immigration rights.
“I have not had to study the affordability crisis to understand it,” said Mendoza. “I’ve lived it.”
Mendoza has three main campaign pillars: Addressing affordability, promoting social and economic justice, and supporting public health and safety.
Two core affordability areas Mendoza said she would address at the federal level would be to raise the federal minimum wage – which has been $7.25 since 2009 – “closer to $30” and prioritize the expansion of federal grants for entrepreneurs from underrepresented communities.
“There are so many brilliant ideas and brilliant people and minds that are right here in the seventh district,” said Mendoza. “We need to be able to bring the resources from our federal government back locally.”
Mendoza supports reparations and the abolishment of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) as a way to move toward social and economic justice in IL-7. To promote public health and safety, she would focus on ensuring students receive the resources – such as school counselors and access to college-level courses – they need to feel supported, which she said will facilitate their growth and benefit the community.
Mendoza believes that her youth allows her to maintain a solid moral compass, and her years of experience in the immigration rights movement in communications and media relations positions have shown her the needs of her district and how success relies on strategy.
“We have so many diverse communities who call the seventh district home,” said Mendoza “And whoever sits in this seat – and I certainly hope that it’s the people of this district to elect me to represent them – but whoever is the leader of this seventh district needs to be one that unifies through action, not just through words.”
Jazmin J. Robinson
Human resources professional Jazmin J. Robinson, 38, initially planned on only supporting an IL-7 candidate, but decided to run herself after seeing what she considers a lack of strategy on candidate websites.
“In corporate America, we have to have a strategy,” said Robinson. “We have to have a business proposal. We have to show proof of concept. And so I knew I wanted to be involved.”
Robinson’s core policy is the H.E.A.L. Act, which she created using her knowledge of benefits and doing constant research to educate herself on state and federal policies.
The act focuses on free universal healthcare; economically accessible education and child care; access to the government by banning PAC and lobbyist money; and promoting livable wages and growth opportunities for small businesses.
“I understand people just don’t believe in the government and they have apathy,” said Robinson. “I’m gonna need [them] to step out of the way, because there are some of us who are still fighting, and I’m gonna need [them] to just vote. If you can’t fight for it, don’t hate on it, because you’re just helping the one percent by saying it’ll never happen.”
Growing up Mexican-American, Robinson experienced racism but did not let it deter her from being in spaces with people who held different beliefs than her or disrespected her heritage. Believing she should “love thy neighbor,” Robinson is excited about potentially being able to uplift and support IL-7.
Robinson believes her work in HR has given her a great understanding of how to develop and deliver successful strategies to ensure folks receive the benefits and living wages they deserve.
“I think just to have the ability to help more than I am doing right now would be really rewarding,” said Robinson. “And it also would just be an incredible honor to take this seat, because I don’t take that lightly either. People are truly trusting me with their lives and their livelihood, and I would take that responsibility. It would be a huge honor, and I would not disappoint them.”
Felix Tello
Executive engineer Felix Tello, 62, immigrated to the U.S. and naturalized when he was 21, quickly falling “in love with the constitution” afterward. He decided to run for representative after hearing of Davis’ retirement last year.
Tello’s campaign centers on five acts that individually address executive overreach, the economy, immigration reform, autonomy and human rights, and community needs. He also promotes his app, Vote Our Way, as a form of “direct democracy” where registered voters can share how they’d like their representative to vote on congressional bills.
“I’m taking an oath to follow your voice,” said Tello. “It is not my agenda. It is your agenda that I’m following. I’m a representative. I represent you in your agenda. I don’t represent myself in the agenda.”
Tello described how he has seen people get elected to Congress and become influenced by special interest and lobbying groups. He explained that he “cannot be bought” and would represent his constituents. Felix sees candidates who want to ban PACs as “foolish.”
Through meeting with different immigrants in IL-7, Tello said he recognizes that they are scared and tells them what precautions they should take. His Immigration Reform Act criticizes mass deportation, describing how to maintain the economic benefits of immigration while addressing crime.
“I’ve structured it in a way that doesn’t let them cut in line,” said Tello. “And it doesn’t necessarily need to lead to citizenship. I’m quite sure if you talk to most of the Latinos that are undocumented, they would be dumb and happy just to be able to be here legally and be a resident and never have to think about their citizenship.”
During an interview with the Latino News Network, Tello criticized Mendoza and Robinson, who are both Latina.
“They say they’re pro Latinos and stuff,” said Tello. “And, I hate to say this, but they don’t know shit about the Latino community.”
Tello said he understands the path of an immigrant in the U.S. and would represent every community in IL-7 equally.
Three candidates vie to become first Latino Representative for Illinois’ 7th Congressional District was first published on Illinois Latino News (ILLN) and republished with permission.
ILLN is an affiliate of the Latino News Network, a bilingual, bicultural news organization serving Hispanic and Latino communities through a national platform and nine statewide outlets.
McKenna Sweet is a recent University of Washington graduate and current freelance journalist who primarily writes science and community pieces.
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Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth (left) and Admiral Charles Bradford "Brad" Cooper II, Commander of US Central Command, speak during a press conference at US Central Command (CENTCOM) headquarters at MacDill Air Force Base in Tampa, Florida, on March 5, 2026.
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Republicans aren’t willing to call the war in Iran what it is
Mar 15, 2026
Let's state the obvious: We’re at war with Iran.
My evidence? Turn on your TV. U.S. forces, working with Israel, killed the supreme leader of Iran and many of his top aides. We sunk Iran’s navy and destroyed most of their air force. We bombed thousands of military sites across the region. President Trump, the commander in chief, has demanded “unconditional surrender” from Iran. He routinely refers to this as a “war.” Pete Hegseth, who calls himself the secretary of war, also describes this as a war daily, such as last week when he said, “We set the terms of this war.”
The truth that we are at war is so simple, only politicians and lawyers could make it seem complicated.
Indeed, a slew of Republican legislators insist we’re not actually at war. House Speaker Mike Johnson: “We’re not at war right now. We’re four days into a very specific, clear mission and operation.” Florida Rep. Brian Mast: “Nobody should classify this as war. It is combat operations.” South Carolina Sen. Lindsay Graham: “I don’t know if this is technically a war.” Oklahoma Sen. Markwayne Mullin: “This isn’t a war. We haven’t declared war.” Florida Rep. Anna Paulina Luna: “Strategic strikes are not war.”
Pearl Harbor was a strategic strike too.
Then there’s the claim that we’re not at war with Iran but Iran is at war with us. This is half true, insofar as Iran has been committing acts of war against the U.S. since it took our embassy staff hostage in 1979. But waging a war in response doesn’t make it any less of a war.
One is tempted to invoke George Orwell’s “1984,” in which the existence or nonexistence of war hinges on what the Ministry of Truth (or Truth Social) puts out on a given day. But nothing so literary is at play. This is (mostly) legalism run amok.
The main reason congressional Republicans reject the W-word is simple. If it’s merely a “combat operation” or “strategic strike” in response to an “imminent threat,” then the president has the authority to do it without congressional approval. If it’s a war, then it’s arguably illegal and unconstitutional within the framework of the War Powers Resolution or the Constitution itself, because under the Constitution declaring war is the sole responsibility of Congress. And the last thing this Congress wants to do is take responsibility for anything.
This at least partly explains why Trump insists he had a “feeling” Iran was about to attack us. He has even suggested that Iran was just weeks away from having a nuclear weapon and that he prevented an imminent “nuclear war.”
The War Powers Resolution — nominally rejected by every president since it was passed in 1973 — was intended to restrict the president’s ability to use force without Congress’ consent. It backfired. It says the president can respond militarily to threats as he deems necessary, but then must go to Congress within 60 days for approval to continue hostilities. The result: Presidents have a free hand to wage war for roughly two months, unless Congress stops them.
But congressional Republicans don’t want to stop Trump. That’s tactically defensible, if you believe this war was necessary. But the tactic forces Congress to say, in effect, “Don’t believe you’re lying eyes. This isn’t a war.”
For those who only vaguely remember what they learned in high school about the War Powers Resolution — or for that matter, the Constitution — this riot of legalism only fuels confusion.
But there’s another factor driving the evasion. Trump made the idea of staying out of “forever wars” a central tenet of America First. There’s no textbook definition of “forever war” — always a ludicrous term — so you can understand why some people believed it was code for “Middle East war” or just plain war of any kind. The irony is that Trump could make a plausible case that this war is allowable under the Authorization to Use Military Force George W. Bush received in 2001. But symbolically that would mean Trump is continuing Bush’s “forever war.”
Regardless, Republicans aren’t just under a legal clock to get this thing over with, but a political one too. Polling shows that Americans, including many Republicans, have no thirst for a long conflict, which makes sense given that they were not asked to prepare for this war at all. Hence, the insistence that this war will be short and tidy.
The problem is that Iran knows this. Which is why they don’t have to win, they just have to ride out the bombings until the public or Trump loses patience with this very real war.
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.
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