Donald Trump insists he can “do anything” with the U.S. military. His rebranding of the Department of Defense into the “Department of War” is more than a cosmetic flourish — it signals how he sees the armed forces: not as a tool bound by law, but as an extension of personal will.
That vision has already been put into practice. Trump has foisted National Guard troops on Washington, D.C., and Los Angeles, ignoring objections from governors and mayors. He has openly teased the possibility of doing the same in Chicago, posting a meme of himself dressed like Robert Duvall’s character in Apocalypse Now — helicopters and fireballs behind him — as if to mock the idea of sending U.S. forces against his own citizens.
The bravado resonates with his strongman brand. But much of what he’s doing — or threatening — teeters on illegality.
The Posse Comitatus Wall
Federal judges have already drawn lines. Earlier this month, U.S. District Judge Charles Breyer ruled that Trump and Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth had committed a “serious violation” of the Posse Comitatus Act when they deployed federalized troops to Los Angeles against the wishes of state leaders. That 1878 law was designed to prevent presidents from turning the U.S. Army into a domestic police force, a principle rooted in post-Civil War battles over federal overreach.
Trump may enjoy greater leeway in Washington, D.C., where Congress holds constitutional authority. But even there, local officials have sued, arguing his troop deployments amount to an “involuntary occupation.”
War Powers Under Strain
Trump’s claim to unilateral military authority extends far beyond city streets. In recent weeks, he ordered a strike against a suspected drug cartel boat in the Caribbean — with no effort to interdict or detain its crew. The strike killed everyone onboard. Critics called it an assassination. Legal scholars called it illegal. Yale’s Oona Hathaway was blunt: “Manifestly illegal and immoral.”
Under the War Powers Act of 1973, Trump must notify Congress within 48 hours of military action. He has done so, but the law also requires congressional approval for operations lasting beyond 60 days. Historically, presidents have treated the act as advisory, and Congress has lacked the will to enforce it. Trump appears poised to push that weakness to its breaking point.
His legal justification rests on a tenuous claim: that drug cartels qualify as terrorist organizations, placing them under the sweeping post-9/11 authorization for use of military force. Congress never voted to authorize war on Venezuelan traffickers, yet Trump acts as though it did.
A Shrinking Circle of Restraint
Even within his own party, cracks are showing. Senator Rand Paul blasted Vice President J.D. Vance for dismissing war-crime concerns with the line: “I don’t give a sh*t what you call it.” Paul called the attitude “despicable and thoughtless.” Yet beyond isolated criticism, congressional Republicans remain largely unwilling to challenge Trump’s claims of power.
The pattern is unmistakable: Trump is governing like a wartime president without a war, using troops to police American cities and lethal strikes to flex abroad. Each act tests the boundaries of constitutional authority. Each time Congress hesitates, the boundaries erode.
What Comes Next
The American system was designed to place checks on presidents who claim absolute power over the military. But those checks depend on political courage. So far, Trump has met little resistance.
For now, his declaration — “I can do anything I want to do” — remains more bluster than reality. But the more he acts as though it’s true, the more it risks becoming true.
