According to a survey by the Chicago Council on Global Affairs, only 41% of Americans support the idea of U.S. troops defending Israel, even if its neighbors attacked it. This is a decrease from 53% in 2021 and represents the lowest level of support since the the council started tracking the question in 2010.
According to the survey, 55% of Americans overall are against the idea of sending troops to defend Israel. These numbers show a decrease in support from Republicans, typically Israel’s biggest supporters, from 72% in 2021 to 55% today. Democrats went from 42% in favor of defending Israel with U.S. troops in 2021 to 35% today.
The poll was conducted online from June 21 through July 1.
Americans still believe in a peacekeeping mission, however, with 54 percent of Americans supporting sending peacekeeping troops if a deal between Israel and the Palestinians is arranged and kept, according to the survey.
The polling results come as the region is on tenderhooks over whether it will blow up into broader conflict. The United States, a stalwart partner to Israel, is at the ready if Israel is attacked by Hezbollah or Iranian allies in retaliation for high profile assassinations over the last two weeks. On the other hand, it is not clear how far Washington will go to intervene if Israel is the one to start a major conflict with Hezbollah or Iran.
But the Chicago Council’s polling shows that Americans are still unwilling to send U.S. troops into another warzone, no matter the relationship. Perhaps the political will amongst Americans is shifting towards some semblance of international realism after generations of never-ending war. Nevertheless, this should be a signal to Israel that it can only take it’s own escalations so far, that there are real limits to American support and that includes American skin in the game.
Aaron is a reporter for Responsible Statecraft and a contributor to the Mises Institute. He received both his undergraduate and masters degrees in international relations from Liberty University.
Boston, Massachusetts USA - October 09, 2023: Solidarity For Israel Rally (Arthur Mansavagw/Shutterstock)
Among the elements of the budget bill working its way through the U.S. Congress is a proposal for a 3.5% tax on all retail money transfers made by all non-citizens residing in the United States (including those with legal status) to other countries.
Otherwise known as remittences, these are transfers typically made by immigrants working in the U.S. to help support family back home.
The revenue impact of the bill is expected to be relatively small; the Tax Foundation cites estimates from the Joint Committee on Taxation that the tax revenue over 10 years will likely amount to $26 billion. To put this in perspective, the U.S. fiscal deficit in 2024 alone was estimated at $1.8 trillion (or 6.4% of U.S. GDP), so the remittance tax would bridge less than 0.16% of the deficit.
While the direct fiscal impact of the tax on the United States might be small, the consequences would be much greater outside the country, with a particular impact on many of America’s neighbors. According to the World Bank, global remittances to lower and lower-middle income countries amounted to $685 billion in 2024. The World Migration Report put U.S. outbound remittances at $79 billion in 2022.
However it is likely that this number is a significant underestimate as outbound data for source countries typically captures only about 65% of funds received. The countries receiving the largest inflows were India with $129 billion and Mexico with $65 billion. In both instances, the inflows are a small (but still meaningful) portion of GDP, at roughly 3.4% of GDP in India and 3.9% in Mexico.
But remittances play a far larger economic role for the smaller countries in the Western Hemisphere. The Inter-American Development Bank’s estimates showed Central America receiving $46 billion in remittances in 2024, while $18 billion went to the countries in the Caribbean. And World Bank statistics for 2024 show their importance — remittances accounted for between roughly 18% and 26% of GDP for Haiti, Jamaica, Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras, and Nicaragua, all countries with sizable immigrant populations in the U.S.
While the tax appears small as a percentage of the amount sent, it will take yet another bite out of remittance income. Even before the proposed tax, the World Migration Report put the 2023 cost of money transfers from the U.S. to Central America and the Caribbean at just under 6% of the transmitted amount. These costs may well rise above a total of 10% given the increased burden of verification and record-keeping that the transmitting agency would be required to comply with.
This runs counter to one of the United Nation’s sustainable development goals, which has been to reduce the cost of remittances to 3% by 2030, based on the expectation that the development of personal digital transfer technology would lead to such an outcome. And its focus on remittance costs reflects the sheer importance of such flows for many countries in the Global South. The World Bank report cited above notes that emittance flows to poorer countries have for years exceeded the amount of Foreign Direct Investment (FDI) and foreign aid they receive combined.
Further, the remittance tax proposal comes at a time when other forms of American economic engagement with the Global South are also broadly in retreat. Washington has cut foreign aid to poor countries drastically, and other wealthy countries, under pressure to increase their defense budgets, have also reduced their own aid programs.
Trade ties are also under stress, even with America’s closest neighbors. While Mexico was spared the administration’s retaliatory tariffs on Liberation Day, tariffs that violate the USMCA free-trade agreement have been imposed on the non-U.S. content of fully assembled automobiles imported from Mexico. Along similar lines, the timeline for tariffs on auto parts suggests a desire to force a repatriation to the U.S. of a good portion of the industry’s capacity that had migrated to Mexico over the past several decades.
Meanwhile, countries in Central America also escaped the worst of the Liberation Day retaliatory tariffs, with most receiving only the minimum 10% tariff (Nicaragua got 19%) but even this tariff runs counter to tariff-free access they were supposed to receive under the provisions of Washington’s free trade agreement that covers the region and the Dominican Republic, CAFTA-DR. The impact will be especially pronounced in the apparel sector.
Thus, this is yet another region caught up in the battles within an administration divided on the relative merits of nearshoring; that is, bringing parts of Mexico, Central America, and the Caribbean into American supply chains, as opposed to a full reshoring within the U.S.’s own borders. The treaty that is the anchor of nearshoring, USMCA, is up for a review that needs to be completed by July 1, 2026. The outcome will give a hint of administration policies towards the broader region —for example, whether it wishes to renegotiate and modify CAFTA-DR, ignore it, or abrogate it.
The remittance tax issue is part of a broader question about how the U.S. sees the intersection of its economic and strategic concerns in the poorer countries of the Global South, and involves difficult choices involving domestic politics and national security.
Deeper economic engagement through investment, trade, and official assistance could promote economic development that lessens the pressures that are manifested in the metric of remittances as a share of GDP in key countries of the region.
Conversely, targeting remittances through tax policy (among a host of other measures) could serve to heighten economic distress that, in turn, increases incentives for poor people to leave their homelands for wealthier countries, including the United States, despite the considerable risks involved.
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Top image credit: U.S Capitol Building, Washington, DC. (Bill Perry /shutterstock)
As a fragile ceasefire takes hold between Israel, Iran, and the United States, many questions remain.
With Iran’s nuclear program unquestionably damaged but likely not fully destroyed, will the Iranian government now race towards a bomb? Having repeatedly broken recent ceasefires in Lebanon and Gaza, will Prime Minister Netanyahu honor this one? And after having twice taken direct military action against Iran, will President Trump pursue the peace he claims to seek or once again choose war?
Meanwhile, Congress is currently debating whether and how to rein in Trump's war making power, with votes possible by the end of this week. There are two competing House bills, one bipartisan War Powers Resolution (WPR) sponsored by Reps. Ro Khanna (D-Calif.) and Tom Massie (R-Ky.), and another by Reps. Gregory Meeks (D-N.Y.), Adam Smith (D-Wash.) and Jim Himes (D-Conn.). Sen. Tim Kaine (D-Va.) introduced a Senate version and that one is likely to get a vote by Friday.
Time will tell whether these measures will pass or have any effect on current events, but on one point, there is absolute certainty. President Trump’s war on Iran was illegal and unconstitutional.
When it comes to who has the legal authority to declare war, the Constitution is unequivocal. The power to declare war rests solely with Congress. Once authorized, the president is the commander-in-chief, but the title does not confer on him the authority to decide where, when, or against whom the country goes to war, simply to oversee the prosecution of wars once they have been authorized.
For the Constitution’s framers, these weren’t hypothetical arguments, and we don’t have to guess at their reasoning or intention. They lived in an age when wars were fought at the whims of monarchs, sometimes for lofty imperial goals but sometimes for petty personal grievances. Indeed their own revolution had been based, in part, over frustration with the massive taxation required to pay down King George’s war debts. Instead, they sought to create a system in which the people who would pay the war’s costs in blood and treasure would decide whether or not their nation goes to war.
To accomplish this, they put this awesome power in the branch of government most accountable to the people, Congress. They did so with the hope and intention that this would make going to war difficult. If one person alone decides when the nation goes to war, wars will inevitably be about one person’s grievances, politics, and personal interests. By requiring Congress to publicly come together and navigate their myriad differences, the hope was that consensus would be difficult to obtain and wars would thus only be launched when there was a clear, overwhelming, and genuine national interest in doing so.
And of course, if members of Congress failed to exercise their authority responsibly, they’d regularly face elections where they could be replaced.
It was and remains an inspiring decision to impose a massive check on the most awesome power of the state. Unfortunately, as Donald Trump’s decision to wage war on Iran reminds us, this system of war powers is deeply broken and prone to abuse.
For starters, Iran posed no imminent threat to the United States that required military action in self-defense. To the extent any such claims are being made, they are based on a hypothetical future threat that must be prevented, namely an Iranian nuclear weapon. Such claims, of course, are a disturbing echo of the Iraq War, and even then they amount to arguments for preventative wars, not genuine preemption of an imminent threat. While this may seem like a small distinction, it is in fact a massive one.
In a letter to Congress justifying his war-making, President Trump makes no claim that the Iranian government was preparing an attack against the United States that he needed to preempt. Instead, he argues he was simply acting to “protect United States citizens at home and abroad” as well as stating repeatedly he is acting to “advance vital United States national interests.” Nowhere in this justification or his public remarks does the president make any claim that he is acting to defend against an imminent attack. Rather, he is simply claiming the unilateral right to both decide what is in the national interest and then to use military force in pursuit of that interest. Even if one agrees with his definition of interests and belief that military force will achieve them (something of which this author and others are deeply skeptical), it does not negate the need for constitutionally required authorization before resorting to war.
Similarly, the president’s claim in the letter that he was acting “in collective self-defense of our ally, Israel” is not an invocation of any actual legal authority to wage war. What Trump is attempting here is a sleight of hand in which the president’s right to use military force in self-defense of the United States is, without any legal authority, bestowed upon another country. Sadly, Trump may have learned this trick from Joe Biden who absurdly also made this claim to justify his use of military force in Somalia. To be clear, international law does allow for using military force in collective self-defense, but international law is not a replacement for the Constitution’s requirements of congressional authority to go to war. For the U.S. president to send the U.S. military into war, they ultimately need authority under U.S. law, and U.S. law simply does not provide existing authority for using military force in defense of Israel.
Of course, Trump isn’t the first president to try to unilaterally expand his authority to wage war. After the disastrous U.S. experience in Vietnam in which the mission grew from a small advisory effort in support of the French and then South Vietnamese forces to hundreds of thousands of U.S. troops fighting a deadly and ultimately unsuccessful major war, Congress attempted to get ahead of this growing problem and place limits on presidents in the 1973 War Powers Act. While perhaps no law in history has been more misunderstood or misinterpreted, WPR reaffirmed Congress’s sole constitutional right to declare war and created a framework to force presidents to remove the military from situations in which they may become engaged in wars Congress had not authorized.
The goal was simple: if it seemed like the U.S. might end up in war, the WPR required the president to remove forces to prevent that from happening. It also gave Congress fast-track procedures to consider legislation to force the president to comply. Indeed, in the coming days Congress may consider this with the variousversions offered in both the House and Senate. This is exactly what happened in 2020 following Trump’s assassination of Iranian Gen. Qassam Soleimani, when Congress passed a resolution blocking further military action against Iran.
The fate of that resolution, however, also revealed the fundamental flaws in the current system. Trump ultimately vetoed that 2020 WPR legislation, and no doubt will do so again if Congress passes such legislation in the coming days. Thus, without a two-thirds supermajority, the system creates the conditions for presidential impunity when violating the Constitution’s separation of powers. This is, of course, exactly the opposite of what the framers intended. Their goal was that a majority of both houses of Congress would be required to go to war, not that a super majority of Congress would be required to prevent a president from going to war. The current system is thus an absurd perversion of the plain text and obvious intention of the Constitution.
Thankfully, some in Congress are trying to repair this dangerous situation. Bipartisan groups in both the House and Senate have recently introduced legislation to return the balance of power to Congress, and by extension to the American public, preventing the kind of unilateral war-making President Trump has repeatedly engaged in. This legislation likely faces long odds, but such reforms are deeply necessary in the long run. Without a change, we will only continue to see presidents launch more and larger wars whenever and wherever they want and for whatever reason they choose.
While the worst-case scenarios of a spiraling, escalating war may (or may not) have been avoided in this case, there is no guarantee that future presidential war-making will be so limited. Thankfully, the Constitution was drafted to prevent just such disasters. The only question left is if we’ll continue to allow presidents to violate it and act like kings.
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Top photo credit: Reza Pahlavi, Crown Prince of Iran speaking at an event hosted by the Center for Political Thought & Leadership at Arizona State University in Tempe, Arizona. (Gage Skidmore/Flickr)
The Middle East is a region where history rarely repeats itself exactly, but often rhymes in ways that are both tragic and absurd.
Nowhere is this more apparent than in the current Israeli campaign against Iran. A campaign that, beneath its stated aims of dismantling Iran's nuclear and defense capabilities, harbors a deeper, more outlandish ambition: the hope that toppling the regime could install a friendly government under Reza Pahlavi, the exiled son of Iran's last Shah. Perhaps even paving the way for a monarchical restoration.
This is not a policy officially declared in Jerusalem or Washington, but it lingers in the background of Israel’s actions and its overt calls for Iranians to “stand up” to the Islamic Republic. In April 2023, Pahlavi was hosted in Israel by Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and President Isaac Herzog.
During the carefully choreographed visit, he prayed at the Western Wall, while avoiding the Al-Aqsa Mosque on the Temple Mount just above and made no effort to meet with Palestinian leaders. An analysis from the Jerusalem Center for Security and Foreign Affairs described the trip as a message that Israel recognizes Pahlavi as "the main leader of the Iranian opposition."
Figures like Gila Gamliel, a former minister of intelligence in the Israeli government, have openly called for regime change, declaring last year that a "window of opportunity has opened to overthrow the regime."
What might have been dismissed as a diplomatic gambit has, in the context of the current air war, been elevated into a strategic bet that military pressure can create the conditions for a political outcome of Israel's choosing.
The irony is hard to overstate. It was foreign intervention that set the stage for the current enmity. In 1953, a CIA/MI6 coup overthrew Mohammad Mossadegh, Iran’s last democratically elected leader. While the plot was triggered by his nationalization of the British-controlled Anglo-Iranian Oil Company, the United States joined out of Cold War paranoia, fearing the crisis would allow Iran's powerful communist party to seize power and align the country with the Soviet Union.
The coup reinstalled the Shah, whose autocratic rule and dependence on the West bred a potent mix of anti-imperialist sentiment and religious fervor.
The 1979 Islamic Revolution, in its own way, was a delayed reaction to 1953, a radical assertion of national sovereignty over foreign interests. Now, Israel and the U.S. seem to believe that a new foreign-backed intervention could be the solution to a problem the last one helped create.
Since June 12, Israel’s military campaign has gone beyond targeting nuclear facilities. Strikes have hit state institutions and state television headquarters. In its most symbolic attack yet, Israel also struck Evin Prison, the primary site for jailing political opponents.
President Trump on Monday announced that an agreement had been brokered between Iran and Israel to stop the fighting, a ceasefire that as of this writing, was still largely unconfirmed. It came hours after Iran had launched a limited attack on the U.S. base in Qatar,. The missiles were intercepted and no injuries were reported.
Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has openly framed the conflict as a pathway to liberation for Iranians. Operation Rising Lion, the name given to the air assault, is itself a nod to Iran’s pre-revolutionary flag, a symbolic gesture toward the monarchy’s legacy.
“As we achieve our objective,” Netanyahu said in a video address to the Iranian people, “we are also clearing the path for you to achieve your freedom.”
For all the talk of regime change, however, there is little clarity about what, or who, should come next. Publicly, Israeli officials insist the Iranian people will choose their own leaders. Yet their public embrace of Iran's exiled crown prince tells a different story.
Reza Pahlavi has spent decades cultivating an image as a democratic statesman-in-waiting. In interviews, he speaks of a future decided by a popular referendum, backed by detailed proposals like a 100-day transition plan. To Israel's delight, his alignment extends beyond symbolism to the core of Israeli strategic thinking.
During his 2023 visit to Tel Aviv, he articulated the very logic driving Israel’s current attacks against Iran, dismissing nuclear negotiations as a “waste of time” and insisting that the “quickest way to eliminate all threats” was to invest in an alternative to the regime itself.
Moreover, he envisions a future rooted in what he calls the “Cyrus Accords,” a revival of the ‘ancient friendship’ between the Persian and Jewish peoples, a vision reinforced by powerful personal gestures, such as his daughter’s recent marriage to a Jewish-American businessman.
But this vision, compelling as it may be in D.C and Jerusalem, is almost entirely detached from Iranian realities. For many critics, even within the fragmented opposition, this democratic messaging is a calculated strategy to rehabilitate the monarchy’s image and position Pahlavi as the only viable successor.
His high-profile meetings with foreign leaders—most notably in Israel—and his calls for Western support are seen not as statecraft for a future democracy, but as efforts to secure foreign backing for his own return to power.
The Pahlavi name remains tainted for many by memories of SAVAK torture chambers, lavish corruption, and dependence on foreign powers for viability. While dissent against the Islamic Republic is widespread, slogans from the 2022 “Woman, Life, Freedom” protests — sparked by the death of Mahsa Amini in custody over the mandatory hijab — reveal a deep-seated rejection of both autocracies with chants like, “Death to the oppressor, be it the Shah or the Leader.”
The monarchy Israel hints at reviving was not merely overthrown in 1979, it was actively rejected by a powerful coalition of Islamists, leftists, and nationalists united against the Shah’s repression. This legacy of popular rejection severely curbs Reza Pahlavi’s appeal today.
While opinion pieces in Israeli mediaframe the choice for Iran as one between chaos and a restored monarchy, Pahlavi commands little tangible support inside a country where many see his movement as “opportunistic” and “disconnected from the Iranian people.”
For Israel to imagine a different outcome in Iran is to ignore the region’s bitterest truths. From the sectarian carnage of post-Saddam Iraq to the militia-ruled wastelands that now scar Libya, Yemen, the last two decades have taught the brutal lesson that foreign-imposed regime change does not produce compliant allies, but rather vacuums filled by extremists, proxy wars, and humanitarian catastrophes.
It is this painfully learned lesson that drove the Arab Gulf states pivot to diplomacy with former rivals like Iran.
The Israeli hope that airstrikes and assassinations are “creating the conditions” for the Iranian people to “rise up,” as Netanyahu stated, is not only ahistorical—it is dangerous.
Even among Iran’s opposition, there is deep skepticism about foreign intervention. As exiled activists have told Western media, Iranians want to topple their leaders themselves, they do not want a “made-up state” or a new regime imposed by outsiders.
In addition, the fantasy that a successor regime in Tehran would be inherently friendly to Israel ignores deep-seated suspicion embedded through decades of conflict, propaganda, and animosity now being cemented by overt foreign intervention. Even Reza Pahlavi, if somehow installed, would likely face immense pressure to distance himself from any perception of being ‘Israel’s man in Iran.’
Israel’s campaign may weaken the Islamic Republic, but it cannot conjure a new, friendly Iran from the ashes, least of all by championing a successor from a fallen dynasty that Iranians have long since rejected.
In the end, the future of Iran should be decided not in Jerusalem or Washington, but by Iranians themselves — on their own terms, in their own time.
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