Who truly holds the reins of government?
This no longer remains just a rhetorical inquiry.
As the conflict between the U.S. and Iran swings between escalation, ceasefire, and fresh military threats, Americans are left to trust that someone, somewhere, is in control.
But who exactly?
This is the constitutional crisis right before our eyes.
The issue extends beyond questioning Donald Trump’s fitness to lead. It challenges whether any president genuinely commands constitutional authority once the permanent war apparatus is in motion.
The Iran conflict serves as the latest example.
When war continues despite public uncertainty about who is directing it, what remains of constitutional governance?
This echoes the nightmare Rod Serling depicted in Seven Days in May.
Released in 1964, Seven Days in May portrayed a secret military plot to overthrow an unpopular president, driven by generals convinced they knew better than the people what the nation needed.
In the film, the coup is averted. The republic endures. The Constitution prevails.
But only on screen.
In reality, the scenario has evolved and expanded across decades.
Once, the fear was that the military would usurp civilian control.
Now, the enduring government already possesses that power.
The coup no longer depends on generals scheming in shadowy rooms to depose a president at midnight. It does not require troops on Pennsylvania Avenue or the storming of the Capitol. Nor does it demand a formal suspension of the Constitution.
Instead, it depends on secrecy, fear, endless conflict, executive overreach, emergency powers, classified intelligence, compliant courts, timid legislators, profiteering corporations, militarized police, and a populace too distracted, fatigued, or intimidated to resist.
This coup has been in motion for decades.
It occurs when Congress relinquishes its war-declaring authority to the president.
It unfolds when leaders from both parties engage in conflict absent genuine constitutional approval.
It proceeds when intelligence agencies spy on citizens and hide behind national security.
It manifests when federal entities arm themselves like military forces.
It becomes clear when local law enforcement is militarized.
It is evident when whistleblowers face punishment, dissenters are watched, protesters are treated as foes, and the public is expected to accept the government’s narrative unquestioningly.
It comes to light when unelected officials—bureaucrats, contractors, data brokers, intelligence staff, defense executives, crisis managers—wield more influence on policy than voters.
This is how liberty erodes: gradually, bureaucratically, profitably, all justified by the guise of national security.
Dwight D. Eisenhower warned of this threat in 1961.
A five-star general and experienced wartime leader, Eisenhower urged Americans to “guard against the acquisition of unwarranted influence, whether sought or unsought, by the military industrial complex.” He cautioned that “misplaced power” imperils freedom and democratic governance.
His warning proved accurate.
The military industrial complex stands as one of the most dominant forces shaping America’s governance.
This issue transcends partisan divides.
Both Democrats and Republicans bear responsibility.
Leaders from both sides have financed wars, increased spying powers, armed law enforcement, expanded executive influence, shielded intelligence agencies, enriched defense contractors, and sidelined constitutional safeguards whenever fear silenced opposition.
One president abuses authority; the next inherits it; the following one extends it; then it is normalized; finally, it is weaponized.
This cycle turns emergency powers into routine privileges.
Temporary policies become permanent statutes.
The president evolves into a ruler in all but title.
And citizens become mere spectators to their own government.
This is the state of affairs today.
We have allowed wars to be conducted without formal declarations.
We have permitted intelligence agencies to cloak their actions in secrecy.
We have accepted presidential rule by executive decree.
We have watched Congress remain passive.
We have seen courts yield to national security claims.
We have consigned police to act like soldiers.
We have enabled corporations to profit from manufactured fear.
We have allowed unelected actors to shape the nation’s future.
And we feign surprise when no one can identify who truly governs.
The unsettling truth is clear.
The permanent war government holds control.
This is a coup without end.
The lesson of our era is: the gravest danger to liberty is not always a sudden dictator seizing power during crisis, but a tireless bureaucracy, an unceasing war machine, a sprawling security state, and a political elite who never refuses.
What must be done?
We must reject allowing authorities to exploit every crisis as carte blanche for expanding power.
And we must demand, persistently, that those charged with defending the nation use only the constitutional tools provided.
If war is desired, Congress must authorize it.
If surveillance is needed, warrants must be obtained.
If dissent is policed, the First Amendment must be respected.
If trillions are spent on warfare, the public deserves an account of how their money enriches defense firms.
If emergency powers are invoked, the crisis must be demonstrated, and the powers relinquished once the threat subsides.
If the Pentagon assumes control of foreign policy, it must be reminded that in a constitutional republic, military authority answers to civilians, and civilians answer to the people.
The permanent war government has delivered perpetual conflicts, crushing debt, militarized policing, mass surveillance, constitutional decay, fear-driven governance, and a nation increasingly resembling an occupied domain.
To preserve freedom, the war apparatus must be returned to constitutional oversight.
The generals, bureaucrats, contractors, intelligence operatives, police, and presidents all need to be reminded: They do not own this country.
As emphasized in my book Battlefield America: The War on the American People and its fictional companion The Erik Blair Diaries, they do not govern us.
They serve us.
