LaRue writes at Structure Matters. He is former deputy director of the Eisenhower Institute and of the American Society of International Law.
Section 3 of the 14th Amendment is fast becoming a well-known provision of the Constitution. Its rise comes with portents of a constitutional crisis because it prohibits insurrectionists and their abettors from serving in public office. When two originalist professors affiliated with the conservative Federalist Society concluded this summer that the clause disqualifies Donald Trump from being reelected, attention exploded.
However, this is not an issue only for legal scholars and election experts as polling on the topic has actually begun. Politico reported on September 29 that 51% of voters would support using the Constitution to disqualify Trump. The Supreme Court could well have to decide if and how this happens (more on that later).
The language in the Disqualification Clause, as Section 3 is known, is not merely historic. While inspired to prevent former Confederate leaders from assuming positions in state or national government, it does not cite the Civil War and applies to any act of rebellion. It has been rarely used or needed.
Disqualifying a former president running to reclaim the office is truly unprecedented and deserves elevated attention. The best experts can only guess what might happen, because the Constitution is silent on implementation, and the few, mostly irrelevant cases provide no useful interpretations for how Section 3 would work in this circumstance.
There are four key sets of questions:
- What behavior is included under the language, "shall have engaged in insurrection or rebellion . . . or given aid or comfort" to the perpetrators?
- Holding office is proscribed, but what about running for office? When can disqualification go into effect; before or during the primaries, before or during the general election, or only after a candidate is elected?
- Perhaps most importantly, who, what institution, and what process decides a presidential candidate's disqualification? What will be the basis for any evidence needed? What standards should be applied?
- As a policy or political matter, is using the Constitution in this way an acceptable solution to such a fraught case?
Many related questions also emerge. A thorny one will be whether Section 3 is "self-executing," akin to the Article II provision requiring presidents to be at least 35 years old; if so, how is self-execution determined? And some observers even question whether a former president is subject to Section 3's jurisdiction.
These and other uncertainties combine to produce serious constitutional challenges. Additionally, there is the federalism wrinkle of each state using its own laws to administer elections, particularly ballot access.
The first skirmishes are already playing out. Secretaries of State in Michigan and Georgia say they do not have the authority to keep Trump off the ballot and that it's up to the courts. Citizens in Colorado have the right to challenge a candidate's qualifications and are now doing so, and legislators in California have asked the attorney general to produce an opinion on whether Trump should be kept off the state’s ballot.
Various suits in nine states have been filed, with more likely to come. Some cases will not survive the path to the Supreme Court, where an ultimate decision seems necessary to be made. Even if a case reaches the highest court, it may not be heard, as just occurred to an appeal from a candidate running against Trump in New Hampshire. But it only takes one case to earn a review. The sooner the better.
As if this isn’t complicated enough, we can only speculate how the nine justices will respond. Any outcome is possible, from disqualifying the former president to letting him attempt reelection if he wins the Republican nomination. (A decision only after votes are cast in November would be either a disaster or moot.)
The ironies remain profound. It is understandable to say, “let the voters decide” Donald Trump’s fate in 2024, as The Washington Post recently editorialized. Then again, the voters in 2020 already did that, and he tried to overturn the result. Can law-breaking or Constitution-denying behavior between elections be overlooked simply by saying, “never mind, leave it to the voters next time”? As Kermit Roosevelt wrote in the Los Angele Times, “‘Beat him at the ballot box’ is a less convincing prescription if your opponent will not accept defeat.”
The Constitution is our failsafe. Yes, a Senate conviction of the impeached Trump may have been a preferred solution, but that did not happen. Our democracy affords us other options in this case: standing down and standing by for the next election, or honoring the Constitution by using it.
The threat of political violence does loom, but it might occur whether he is on the ballot or removed. If his name is kept off the ballot, supporters will likely make claims about being “denied!” and if he is on the ballot and loses on Election Day, the utterances of “it was rigged!” will certainly be heard.
Hopefully, the risk of organized violence is likely overstated given that Trump’s most active followers now face jail time or have shown little enthusiasm to protest his indictments. Yet violence by lone, rogue individuals remains a serious concern (countering this risk is its own topic).
The implications of this potential crisis are foundational, more so than partisan or political. At the very least, Donald Trump gave aid and comfort to the now-convicted insurrectionists when he did nothing in the hours after the Capitol was breached as a clear violation of the Constitution and his oath to defend it. If he gets a pass just because he’s a candidate again, our democracy is at grave risk.
The rule of law still matters. We are about to be reminded how vital the Constitution is to each and all of us.
Note: Many of the cited links in this column were accessed from the Election Law Blog. Posts from Richard L. Hasen, Derek T. Muller, and Edward B. Foley were particularly informative.
A golden tray sits on the Resolute Desk as President Donald Trump speaks during an announcement on American nuclear innovation in the Oval Office at the White House on July 24, 2026, in Washington, D.C. Trump is signing multiple executive orders targeting the nuclear energy sector and easing rules for new reactors and nuclear fuel supply chains.
Trump’s hubris rivals the fallen heroes of ancient Greek mythology
In January, the New York Times asked President Donald Trump if there were any limits on his global powers.
“Yeah,” the president responded, “there is one thing. My own morality. My own mind. It’s the only thing that can stop me.”
That was eight months ago, but fortunately Christopher Nolan’s blockbuster adaptation of “The Odyssey” has made ancient Greek literature newly relevant. Before that window closes, I’d like to talk about hubris.
Today, the term mostly means excessive pride or arrogance. That’s part of what the Greeks meant by it too, but the meaning was a bit richer and more specific. Hubris was an insolent or outrageous act that offended the gods, often because the transgressor was claiming abilities or authorities that solely belonged to supreme beings.
Nolan renamed and slightly modified the concept of xenia for the film, calling it “Zeus’ law.” In the director’s telling, mortals should follow the rules laid out by the gods, specifically the requirement to treat strangers with respect lest they be gods in disguise.
In a sense, hubris is the opposite, or at least the rejection, of xenia. The hubris of the suitors, and at times Odysseus himself, invites punishment by the gods and their mortal instruments.
Which brings me back to Donald Trump. His claim that there are no constraints on his personal power to dictate events on the global stage was one of the greatest expressions of hubris ever uttered by a political leader.
Trump’s claim was obviously false when he made it.
He vowed that he could end the Russia-Ukraine war in 24 hours. He’s proved powerless to make that happen. If he had divine powers to work his will, why would he have balked at implementing his tariffs so often that Wall Street adopted the “TACO trade” term for his deals? “TACO” stands for “Trump always chickens out.”
And why would Trump have made so many embarrassing concessions to China — from rescinding tariffs on Chinese goods to allowing them to buy crucial and incredibly valuable computer chips?
But Trump saw his success at capturing Venezuelan strongman Nicolas Maduro as proof of his ability to launch missiles to the same effect as Zeus’ lightning bolts. Trump believed he was the most powerful man who ever lived.
This is no exaggeration. In March, when the Iran invasion seemed successful, Trump gave a document penned by“Presidential Historian David King” to New York Times reporters Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan purporting to prove that Trump was “the most powerful person to have EVER walked this planet.” King was, in fact, a businessman and occasional caddy for legendary golfer Gary Player.
King compared Trump favorably to many of history’s most powerful, and often heinous, figures: Alexander the Great, Attila the Hun, William the Conqueror, Napoleon Bonaparte, Joseph Stalin, Genghis Khan, Mao Tse Tung, Adolf Hitler and Vladimir Lenin. Many of these men thought they were the most powerful person in the world, too. And many were defeated precisely because they believed it.
At least Napoleon and Hitler had a string of truly impressive victories before they learned the folly of hubris. The limits on Trump’s power have been exposed by far less august forces than the combined might of the allies in World War II or the fearsome Russian winter.
Iran is a comparatively middling power. But the regime’s ability to absorb punishment while imposing its will on the Strait of Hormuz has proved to be a greater constraint on Trump’s power than his morality or mind. We should note that, at least rhetorically, his morality has not proved much of a constraint. He has repeatedly promised to destroy Iranian “civilization” if the regime refuses to capitulate.
But they haven’t — and won’t anytime soon — because the regime’s tolerance for pain far outstrips Trump’s. The combined fear of skyrocketing oil prices, outrage of Gulf state potentates, diminishing weapon supplies and domestic unpopularity is doing the work that international law, congressional oversight and the collective opinion of foreign policy experts can’t or won’t do.
If I considered Trump more heroic than reason and facts could allow, I would say his Sisyphean predicament has the whiff of Greek tragedy to it. Trump is vexed by the fact that the Iranians won’t honor deals or ratify his countless premature claims of victory — giving new meaning to his vow that his presidency would make people tired of winning. It’s almost like they’re out-Trumping Trump.
Things might have gone better if he’d heeded that great Greek tragedian Sophocles: “For Zeus utterly abhors the boasts of a proud tongue.”
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Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.