As President Trump weighs whether to attack Iran, the truth is, no one knows what he will do—and that uncertainty is exactly the point. But amid the chaos, one familiar question looms: What about Congress?
The pattern is now well-worn. A president — Democrat or Republican — considers the use of force. A bipartisan group of lawmakers demands a vote. The White House sidesteps congressional approval. And a handful of Members introduce War Powers Resolutions that go nowhere.
That cycle is already underway, with Sens. Tim Kaine (D-Va.) and Mike Lee (R-Utah) and Representative Ro Khanna (D-Calif.) calling for Congress to reassert its constitutional role. As someone who served for years as a national security counsel to House leadership and the Foreign Affairs Committee, I believe that while Congress may still assert itself through symbolic War Powers Resolutions, it is highly unlikely to take another meaningful vote to authorize force — an unfortunate but predictable consequence of the Iraq War legacy.
The Constitution gives Congress the power to declare war but leaves much else unsaid, and potential ambiguity results from the tension between this and the president’s authority to give military orders as commander in chief. In response to the Vietnam quagmire, Congress passed the War Powers Resolution of 1973, establishing procedures to check unilateral presidential military action. The law created three primary levers: formal Authorizations for Use of Military Force, a 60-day deadline for presidential withdrawal unless Congress acts, and privileged resolutions to force floor votes on military engagements.
Every president since has sidestepped the War Powers Resolution’s key enforcement mechanism — the 60-day clock — and Congress has largely acquiesced. Although lawmakers have passed resolutions demanding withdrawals — from U.S. involvement in Yemen (in 2019) and against Iran (in 2020), Congress hasn’t authorized force in more than two decades.
Why has the authorization for the use of military force become a political third rail? Start with electoral incentives. Since President Obama defeated Hillary Clinton in 2008 — in part by tying her to the 2002 vote to authorize force in Iraq — lawmakers have learned that war authorizations can become long-lasting political liabilities, especially when military outcomes are uncertain.
The starkest example came in 2013. After dictator Bashar Assad used chemical weapons in Syria, Obama — under pressure from hawkish Republicans and Democrats demanding action — flipped the script. Rather than authorize strikes unilaterally, he asked Congress (cynically, in my view) to approve them. The political will predictably was absent. Public opposition was fierce. Calls to congressional offices ran 20 to 1 against intervention, and leadership declined to bring it to a vote.
Today, party leaders remain reluctant to expose internal divisions. There is no unified view in either caucus on Iran. Some Republicans urge military support for Israel, including strikes on Iranian nuclear facilities. Others — MAGA-aligned isolationists and progressive Democrats alike — warn of entanglement in a wider regional war. The result is strange-bedfellow coalitions and a leadership class intent on keeping these debates behind closed doors, not on the House or Senate floor.
The deeper issue is structural. The presidency has evolved into a singular command center for U.S. foreign policy, especially since the New Deal era and the Supreme Court’s recognition of the president as the nation’s “sole organ” in foreign affairs. The notion that 535 members of Congress should greenlight military operations seems increasingly anachronistic, particularly in moments of crisis, when speed and unity are at a premium.
Rather than vote on a new AUMF, Congress will likely continue to resort to procedural War Powers Resolutions — privileged measures that force votes but do not bind the president. These resolutions create cross-party alliances and make political statements, but they are speed bumps on the road to war, not stop signs.
Congress could attempt to cut off funding for military operations, but history suggests it will not. In both Kosovo (1999) and Libya (2011), Congress refused to authorize force but also declined to defund operations, effectively giving presidents free rein.
Congress is not powerless. It retains the ability to shape public opinion, rally bipartisan concern, and pressure the executive when policies go off the rails. But observers hoping for a formal vote on Iran should temper expectations. The era of meaningful congressional authorizations of force may be behind us. And the war powers debate, for now, will remain one fought on procedural margins, not through constitutional muscle.
Daniel Silverberg serves as a Managing Director at Capstone and a senior adjunct fellow at the Center for New American Security. From 2014-2021 he served as National Security Advisor to Rep. Steny Hoyer.