By Raúl Antonio Capote on April 29, 2026
In a close vote reflecting the deep polarization dominating the U.S. capital, the Senate this week blocked a Democratic resolution that would have required President Donald Trump to obtain express approval from Congress before launching any military attack against Cuba.
The maneuver, decided by a vote of 51 in favor and 47 against, not only thwarts yet another legislative attempt to limit the executive branch’s war powers but also sends an unequivocal message about the fragility of constitutional balances with the possibility of armed conflict looming on the Caribbean horizon.
The resolution, sponsored by Senators Tim Kaine, Adam Schiff, and Ruben Gallego, sought to preemptively address what they describe as “a hostile act that would require congressional approval.”
Essentially, it aimed to require the president to seek congressional approval before ordering any military operation against the island. However, the Republican majority, with the support of Democratic Senator John Fetterman, succeeded in declaring the measure out of order, while two Republicans—Susan Collins and Rand Paul—joined the Democrats.
To understand what happened, one must examine the complex legal framework governing the powers of war in the United States. The Constitution establishes, in Article I, that “Congress shall have the power… to declare war.” But at the same time, Article II makes the president “Commander-in-Chief of the Army and Navy.”
Since the founding of the republic, this duality has generated an unresolved tension that every international crisis brings to the fore.
Following the Vietnam experience, the legislature sought to regain ground with the War Powers Resolution of 1973, passed even over President Richard Nixon’s veto. The law requires the president to notify Congress within 48 hours of the start of hostilities and prohibits troops from remaining deployed for more than 60 days without formal authorization or a declaration of war.
As the National Archives notes, “the resolution was passed by a two-thirds majority in the House and Senate, overriding President Richard Nixon’s veto.”
However, history shows that this legal barrier is more theoretical than real. Since 1945, Congress has not issued a single formal declaration of war, and this has not prevented the U.S. armed forces from fighting in Korea, Vietnam, Iraq, Afghanistan, and, more recently, in Iran and Venezuela without the explicit approval of Capitol Hill
As military historian Peter Mansoor notes, “the pendulum has swung toward the Executive; the framers of the Constitution intended Congress to be the most powerful branch.”
The 1973 Resolution itself contains loopholes that presidents from both parties have effectively exploited: it allows for unilateral operations lasting up to 90 days, and according to recent research, some presidents have argued that as long as no ground troops are involved, bombing campaigns can continue indefinitely
In that sense, Tuesday’s Republican blockade merely consolidates a practice that, regardless of the political affiliation of the White House, has stripped the legislative branch’s constitutional prerogative of its substance.
The case of Cuba is not an isolated incident. Democrats have failed on at least five previous occasions during this legislative session in attempting to limit the president’s military powers in various scenarios, particularly in Iran and Venezuela. In fact, Tuesday’s vote had been preceded by nearly identical attempts that also failed.
The repetition of this pattern reveals a well-established dynamic: the party controlling the presidency closes ranks around its leader, while the opposition denounces, to no avail, the erosion of institutional checks and balances.
The Republicans, led by Senator Rick Scott of Florida, justified their rejection with a technical argument: since there are no declared active hostilities against Cuba, invoking the war powers resolution was not appropriate.
A line of defense reminiscent of that used by past secretaries of state when, like Marco Rubio, they asserted that “this is not a war against Iran” to bypass the required congressional approval.
However, the reality on the ground contradicts that narrative. The United States maintains a strict energy blockade that has almost completely paralyzed Cuban economic activity. According to reports by USA Today, the Pentagon has secretly intensified planning for a possible military operation on the island, located just 145 kilometers off the coast of Florida
Trump himself has fueled strategic ambiguity by declaring that “I think I will have the honor of being the one to take care of Cuba.” Meanwhile, Coast Guard vessels are intercepting fuel shipments bound for the island, an action that Senator Kaine bluntly equated: “If someone were doing to the United States what we are doing to Cuba, we would undoubtedly consider it an act of war.”
On the other side of the Florida Straits, the Cuban government’s reaction was swift. President Miguel Díaz-Canel warned on April 16 that “U.S. military aggression is a real possibility” and called on the country to “be ready to fight; we do not want it, but it is our duty to prepare to avoid it and, if it is inevitable, to win it.”
The date chosen for that speech was no coincidence: it marked the 65th anniversary of the failed Bay of Pigs (Playa Girón) invasion, the United States’ most famous—and catastrophic—attempt to overthrow the revolutionary government by force. That operation, authorized in 1961 by President John F. Kennedy without a declaration of war by Congress, ended in a humiliating failure that strengthened Fidel Castro and accelerated the island’s rapprochement with the Soviet bloc
That historical echo hovers over the current episode. In its official statement on April 17, the Cuban government denounced a “permanent siege” that combines economic sanctions, diplomatic pressure, and threats of armed intervention. The communiqué describes the blockade as a policy of “collective punishment” that has caused daily power outages, water shortages, and the suspension of thousands of surgeries, directly affecting the civilian population.
Havana’s position is crystal clear: it is not merely a matter of rejecting a possible invasion, but of asserting the right to self-determination in the face of what they consider a new phase of the “regime change” policy. “Cuba does not threaten or attack any country; it is a peaceful nation, united in solidarity and committed to dialogue, but it will never renounce defending its sovereignty at any cost,” state official sources from the Cuban Foreign Ministry.
The outcome of this standoff extends beyond Cuba. What the Senate has ratified is, in practice, the president’s prerogative to decide unilaterally on the use of force in the Caribbean, with the sole limit—in theory—being the 60–90 days set by the War Powers Resolution.
But if, as some analysts predict, the Trump administration were to opt for a surgical intervention or a covert operation that does not reach the formal threshold of “hostilities,” that limit could become irrelevant.
Meanwhile, the Cuban population faces a doubly distressing situation: the economic suffocation caused by a blockade that has lasted six decades is now compounded by the uncertainty of whether, at any moment, the U.S. president will give the order to take direct action.
As Senator Kaine himself admitted upon leaving the chamber after the vote: “I have no reason to believe that regime change is imminent, though I cannot say it is not either.”
History teaches us that, when institutional checks and balances weaken, decisions regarding war and peace increasingly depend on the judgment of a single person. And in this case, that person has already said he wants to be remembered as the one who “took care of Cuba.”
Source: Cuba en Resumen