GOP Senators Break Ranks—Trump Warns ‘Never Elect Them Again’

Paul Riverbank, 1/9/2026GOP senators defy Trump on war powers, exposing party rifts and reviving constitutional debate.

He called out Senators Susan Collins, Lisa Murkowski, Rand Paul, Josh Hawley, and Todd Young by name, insisting their votes threatened U.S. security and undermined his role as Commander in Chief. “Should never be elected to office again,” Trump wrote, leaving no ambiguity about his disapproval. Normally, party-line discipline keeps such moments from happening; yet this vote was different, sharpened by the recent U.S. military mission in Venezuela—a highly secretive and, as it turned out, successful operation.

Senator Collins didn’t dodge reporters in the marble corridors that afternoon. She defended her decision in practical terms: backing the operation to capture Nicolás Maduro, yes, but opposing any deeper or longer commitment in Venezuela, or, as she wryly mentioned, even Greenland, unless Congress gave the go-ahead. “I support the operation,” Collins said, “which was extraordinary in its precision and complexity.” She added, “But I do not support committing additional U.S. forces or entering into any long-term military involvement…without specific congressional authorization.” Even the reference to Greenland, dropped like a half-joke, hinted at her underlying concerns over broken guardrails.

It wasn’t just Collins making a stand. Senator Rand Paul, whose libertarian streak has always made him a wildcard in the GOP, observed, “The previous votes have been more hypothetical. This vote is about a real incursion. ... I think the vote today reflects that more Republicans are taking it seriously.” For Paul and his colleagues, the abstract had gone concrete, changing the tone—and perhaps the stakes.

Rebellions in the Senate’s own ranks are uncommon. Historically, GOP senators have stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Trump on foreign affairs. That’s why this particular crack matters. While the War Powers resolution is unlikely to advance in the House (and even less likely to survive a presidential veto), the underlying message is impossible to miss: there are limits, however rarely drawn, to presidential power that some Republicans are willing to enforce.

Away from the floor, the politics get personal. Senator Collins, already in the crosshairs in her home state of Maine, faces the formidable challenge of running against Democratic Governor Janet Mills—a contest that political insiders are watching with keen interest. When asked about the President’s public attack, Collins didn’t miss a beat. “The president obviously is unhappy with the vote. I guess this means that he would prefer to have Governor Mills or somebody else,” she said, with a hint of dry humor, neither flustered nor cowed.

If you strip away the high-octane rhetoric, what’s really at stake is a fundamental argument over American democracy: does the ultimate authority to deploy military force reside with one man, or should Congress have its say? Throughout history, from Vietnam to Iraq, this question has fueled fierce debate—far from an academic exercise, it’s a recurring struggle over the Constitution’s meaning.

Trump, for his part, insists the War Powers Act is “unconstitutional, totally violating Article II,” echoing arguments made by past presidents, both Republican and Democrat. But if he thought the matter was settled, the split on the Senate floor now says otherwise; it’s a reminder that the machinery of government often moves on many tracks, not always in lockstep with the executive branch.

Yet, this sharp division inside one party doesn’t signal weakness. If anything, it showcases the layers and strains that make up a healthy democracy: disagreement, deliberation, and principled dissent. Real debates—messy, public, unresolved—are the scaffolding of the American system. For lawmakers, voters, and presidents alike, moments like this both test and reaffirm the contours of constitutional power.

The air in the Senate was heavy, almost electric, after the votes rolled in on the latest War Powers resolution. When the usual hum of the chamber faded, the uproar outside it was just getting started. President Trump, never one to downplay disagreement, fired off a blistering message that named names—a rare, pointed rebuke aimed squarely at five Republicans who’d defied him. These senators, he charged, had sided with Democrats to “take away our Powers” to defend the country. In his view, it was little short of an affront.He called out Senators Susan Collins, Lisa Murkowski, Rand Paul, Josh Hawley, and Todd Young by name, insisting their votes threatened U.S. security and undermined his role as Commander in Chief. “Should never be elected to office again,” Trump wrote, leaving no ambiguity about his disapproval. Normally, party-line discipline keeps such moments from happening; yet this vote was different, sharpened by the recent U.S. military mission in Venezuela—a highly secretive and, as it turned out, successful operation.Senator Collins didn’t dodge reporters in the marble corridors that afternoon. She defended her decision in practical terms: backing the operation to capture Nicolás Maduro, yes, but opposing any deeper or longer commitment in Venezuela, or, as she wryly mentioned, even Greenland, unless Congress gave the go-ahead. “I support the operation,” Collins said, “which was extraordinary in its precision and complexity.” She added, “But I do not support committing additional U.S. forces or entering into any long-term military involvement…without specific congressional authorization.” Even the reference to Greenland, dropped like a half-joke, hinted at her underlying concerns over broken guardrails.It wasn’t just Collins making a stand. Senator Rand Paul, whose libertarian streak has always made him a wildcard in the GOP, observed, “The previous votes have been more hypothetical. This vote is about a real incursion. ... I think the vote today reflects that more Republicans are taking it seriously.” For Paul and his colleagues, the abstract had gone concrete, changing the tone—and perhaps the stakes.Rebellions in the Senate’s own ranks are uncommon. Historically, GOP senators have stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Trump on foreign affairs. That’s why this particular crack matters. While the War Powers resolution is unlikely to advance in the House (and even less likely to survive a presidential veto), the underlying message is impossible to miss: there are limits, however rarely drawn, to presidential power that some Republicans are willing to enforce.Away from the floor, the politics get personal. Senator Collins, already in the crosshairs in her home state of Maine, faces the formidable challenge of running against Democratic Governor Janet Mills—a contest that political insiders are watching with keen interest. When asked about the President’s public attack, Collins didn’t miss a beat. “The president obviously is unhappy with the vote. I guess this means that he would prefer to have Governor Mills or somebody else,” she said, with a hint of dry humor, neither flustered nor cowed.If you strip away the high-octane rhetoric, what’s really at stake is a fundamental argument over American democracy: does the ultimate authority to deploy military force reside with one man, or should Congress have its say? Throughout history, from Vietnam to Iraq, this question has fueled fierce debate—far from an academic exercise, it’s a recurring struggle over the Constitution’s meaning.Trump, for his part, insists the War Powers Act is “unconstitutional, totally violating Article II,” echoing arguments made by past presidents, both Republican and Democrat. But if he thought the matter was settled, the split on the Senate floor now says otherwise; it’s a reminder that the machinery of government often moves on many tracks, not always in lockstep with the executive branch.Yet, this sharp division inside one party doesn’t signal weakness. If anything, it showcases the layers and strains that make up a healthy democracy: disagreement, deliberation, and principled dissent. Real debates—messy, public, unresolved—are the scaffolding of the American system. For lawmakers, voters, and presidents alike, moments like this both test and reaffirm the contours of constitutional power.