
The foreign affairs origins of domestic executive supremacy
The past several terms have entrenched the court’s ongoing determination to expand presidential authority. With presidential wins over the control of administrative agencies , immunity from criminal prosecution for certain acts , freedom from nationwide court injunctions , and in the emergency docket generally , the tendency is hard to miss. Less appreciated is that this process began far earlier, and in connection with presidential authority in foreign affairs. That story matters. For one thing, it established the template for the current, more general trend. For another, as the current war in Iran demonstrates, it provides a cautionary tale. The modern trend toward an increasingly unchecked executive dates back at least to the Reagan administration, along with the rise of originalism and its institutional champion, the Federalist Society. An early manifestation came in the form of the so-called “unitary executive” theory, the idea that the president’s control over the executive branch should be subject to few, if any, congressionally imposed limitations. Justice Antonin Scalia passionately articulated the theory in his dissenting opinion in Morrison v. Olsen , objecting to statutory constraints on the president’s ability to remove an independent counsel. In time, such dissents became majority opinions. Majorities then came to move beyond unitary executive theory to endorse expanded executive power generally. As in much else, the advent of Donald Trump represents a quantum leap in the assertion of presidential authority, often in ways formerly considered all but unthinkable. And no less striking, more often than not, the Supreme Court has gone along. Just last term, the unitary executive reached a high point when Trump v. Slaughter held that Congress could not limit the president’s plenary power to remove agency heads, overturning the 91-year-old, ostensibly well-settled Humphrey’s Executor v. United States . Beyond the unitary executive, the court has also blessed presidential immunity from certain criminal prosecution, invalidated nationwide injunctions to check dubious executive orders, and consistently sided with the administration in the emergency docket, allowing substantial harm to the interests of the challenging side even when the court hands the president a rare loss, as in the tariff case . The court’s sanction of an ever more powerful and unchecked presidency is not without certain ironies. It comes precisely in the face of a president who has been consistently pushing boundaries in unprecedented fashion. It further comes with the justification that this is exactly the type of presidency that the Constitution’s founders conceived. As Justice Sonia Sotomayor’s dissent in Slaughter noted, not only is this assertion deeply contested. Among other things, it echoes the concern of even the pro-executive Alexander Hamilton, that “Of those men who have overturned the liberties of republics, the greatest number have begun their career by paying an obsequious court to the people; commencing demagogues, and ending tyrants.” Yet the nation has seen this story before. Going back almost a century, it had already occurred in foreign affairs. Take the founders’ commitment to diffused and shared power among the three branches of the federal government. Starting with the late Gordon Wood , historians have generally agreed that supporters of a new constitution embraced separation of powers as an abstract concept in reaction to the emergence of majoritarian tyranny in overly powerful state legislatures. In domestic affairs especially, it followed that any new national framework should have a stronger and more powerful executive and judiciary to check the legislative branch, which had shown how it could draw ever more power into its “ impetuous vortex .” But in foreign affairs the principal threat came not from Congress, but from a president that, among other things, would be the commander in chief of the armed forces. Leading founders agreed with Aristotle that “The tyrant is fond of making war in order that his subjects . . . be always in want of a leader.” Over and over they raised the concern that an unchecked federal executive could become a Caesar, Sulla, Henry VIII, Charles I, or Cromwell. As James Madison said at the Federal Convention, “A standing military force, with an overgrown Executive will not long be safe companions to liberty.” To meet exactly these concerns, the founders sought to apply sketch a separation of powers framework with mutual checks and balances that would apply as fully in foreign as domestic affairs. Most obviously, the proposed Constitution allocated and blended powers among the three branches in foreign affairs as it did in domestic affairs. The president would make treaties, but only with the approval of two-thirds of a Senate that met a quorum. The courts would have the power to adjudicate treaties as the “supreme Law of the Land” even if they preempted state law. The president would be commander-in-chief. But Congress would “declare War,” and regulate and fund the armed forces. The judiciary, moreover, would have the power to adjudicate controversies involving the laws that resulted. Contrary to the vision of some scholars and several justices, the president was intended to be anything but “imperial from the beginning.” And so this understanding held well into the 20th century. Yet over time, the United States grew from weak republic, to regional player, to world power, to hegemon, one for better or worse frequently involved in both hot and cold wars. That development inevitably led to presidents of both parties making ever more aggressive claims concerning the extent of exclusive executive authority. For well over a century, the Supreme Court turned aside such claims. Especially notable in this regard was Youngstown Sheet & Tube Co. v. Sawyer , which rejected President Harry Truman’s attempt to seize the country’s major steel mills in an effort to avert a nationwide strike during the Korean War. With the Cold War and the rise of the national security state, however, the court hastened a long and uneven retreat. The retreat occurred on many fronts. But two, one niche, the other epic, illustrate the point. The first deals with the question who should interpret U.S. treaties. The other considers who oversees the running of a war. The Constitution declares that treaties “shall be the supreme Law of the Land.” For various reasons, not all are. Some need to be incorporated into domestic law by Congress. But many do not and are “self-executing.” As federal law on par with acts of Congress, it would seem to follow that their interpretation should fall to the courts. Such was the expectation of the founders, and so it was for almost a century. During that time the courts would give zero deference to interpretations offered by the executive branch, even in cases in which the United States was a party. That changed just as the nation was becoming a world power. Starting in the late 19th century, the Supreme Court at least nominally began to declare that executive interpretations merited special consideration. A century later, that nominal deference is all but dispositive. Running a war, of course, involves stakes that are exponentially higher. There has been endless debate as to what extent a president can initiate armed conflict without congressional approval. Suffice is to say that a preponderance of scholarship indicates that the founders sought to insure Congress’ involvement but for a narrow, mainly defensive, exception. Yet what of the conduct of an armed conflict once begun? On that topic, imagine if Chief Justice John Roberts struck down an executive action partially exceeding a congressionally authorized armed intervention. Or invoked international law to interpret a statute to declare a military action illegal. Or disallowed an executive seizure of enemy alien property within the U.S. because international law limited the scope of Congress’ authorization to go to war. Chief Justice John Marshall did all this, and more. The same could not be said of the current chief, or indeed several of his predecessors. The rise of the United States as an engaged world power has led to vastly increased claims of presidential power. In the past century, the court has increasingly accepted executive branch claims and given presidents of both parties an increasingly freer hand in foreign affairs. Some of this has come through a robust state secrets doctrine, comparatively stricter standing and justiciability limitations, and hostility to plausible applications of international law and human rights standards. Trump v. Hawaii , to cite just one recent example, illustrates the pattern. In that case, the court considered whether the first Trump administration’s limitations on immigration from mostly Muslim-majority countries violated the establishment clause. Sotomayor in dissent noted that established doctrine would have permitted the court to look at the plethora of Donald Trump’s statements heralding the action as an “anti-Muslin” ban. Yet Roberts, writing for the majority, cited foreign affairs and national security consideration to preclude such statements and conclude that what the president himself called an “anti-Muslim” ban wasn’t an anti-Muslim ban after all. The net result of such decisions over time has created a constitutional imbalance of power in favor of the executive that would have alarmed the founding generation, and testifies to the long march toward presidential supremacy in matters of war and national security. (For that matter, so too does the ability of the current occupant of the White House to start a war without the prospect of any institutional check.) Presidential supremacy in foreign affairs should serve as a warning on the domestic front. The current imbalance suggest that the founders knew what they were talking about. On their view, the Constitution abhors a concentration of power wherever that concentration may occur. (One corollary is to be skeptical of claims that the “ original understanding ” of the Constitution envisioned a monarchical presidency.) A further warning points to excessive executive power coming not all at once, but in steps, any one of which may be dismissed as benign, or at least not much to worry about. Today’s degree of unchecked presidential authority in foreign affairs and national security suggests that the frog should take action whenever the range is turned up a notch. Yet even these prospects might be tolerable with a chief executive who abides by the many unwritten norms of presidential conduct starting with President George Washington. That may not be the case with a president indifferent to such norms. Absent real institutional checks, legislative and judicial, there is little to stop such a leader and his associates from, as Hamilton observed, “commencing demagogues, and ending tyrants.”















