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How long must the US war on Iran go on, and how badly must the US be defeated, before it will agree to a permanent peace?
The US government under Donald Trump has twice used disingenuous negotiations with Iran to provide cover for attacking it, in June 2025 and again before launching the current war in February. Now it is trying to do so for a third time.
On April 8, the US and Iran began a two week ceasefire, after Trump accepted a 10-point peace plan drawn up by Iran as “a workable basis on which to negotiate.” But Vice President Vance and US negotiators rejected Iran’s plan out of hand at talks in Pakistan on April 11, and instead demanded that Iran must give up its right as a member of the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (or NPT) to enrich uranium for civilian purposes. The talks ended with no agreement.
As the end of the ceasefire on April 22 drew near, Trump claimed that Iran had agreed to US demands on enriched uranium and other matters. But Iran announced to the world on April 18 that it had not agreed to any of the terms Trump claimed, and that his lies and threats provided no basis for further negotiations. Iran then responded to US and Israeli ceasefire violations by once again closing the Strait of Hormuz to all vessels linked to hostile countries.
In other words, Iran called Trump’s bluff, holding the US to the terms of the two-week ceasefire. But Trump didn’t give up on his false claims, and instead insisted that Iran had agreed to another round of talks in Pakistan on April 21st, which Iran immediately denied.
The reversal in US policy that it would take to resolve this crisis would not be unprecedented.
As the April 22 deadline approaches with no agreement, many analysts now expect the end of the ceasefire to be followed, within hours or days, by a US escalation of the war and a proportionate military response from Iran, with no clear off-ramp from further escalation.
But this could be averted by a belated but genuine US reappraisal of its position, based on Iran’s ten point proposal that Trump accepted as “a workable basis on which to negotiate.”
If the United States government really wants an exit strategy from this self-imposed, ever-escalating war, it should take a fresh look at Iran’s ten point peace plan, and seriously consider how it can engage with this framework to turn over a new leaf in its relations with Iran and the region.
These are the ten points, as reported by Gulf News:
Since the United States has failed to use the two-week ceasefire to negotiate on this “workable basis,” it will be up to Iran to decide whether to agree to extend the ceasefire so that the US and Iran can finally start real negotiations.
This would require the US to begin acting in good faith, an inherently tall order, to convince Iran that it would not just use an extension of the ceasefire to prepare an even more deadly and catastrophic attack. It should immediately lift its naval blockade of Iran, stop transporting more armed forces into the region, and do whatever it takes to end Israel’s ceasefire violations in Lebanon and Palestine, including by halting the transfer of weapons that Israel uses to violate those ceasefires, as US law requires.
Without such confidence-building measures, it is hard to see why Iran would agree to an extension of the ceasefire. As Professor Mostafa Khoshcheshm in Tehran explained to Al Jazeera, Trump’s lies convinced Tehran it would not find “a trustworthy partner for any kind of deal,” and, as long as the US acts this way, “Iran will continue the war.”
“Iran believes it has the upper hand and that this must be established in any future confrontation,” he said, noting that millions of people are still taking to the streets in Iran every night to call for continued resistance.
Maybe the most vital of Iran’s ten points is the first one listed above: a guarantee that Iran will not be attacked again, either by the United States or Israel. Trump’s war crimes, his undermining of US credibility and his connivance at Israel’s ceasefire violations make such a guarantee elusive, although it is only what international law requires of all countries, that they resolve their disputes peacefully and refrain from threatening or using military force against each other.
What form of guarantee could Iran possibly accept from a country that systematically violates treaties and agreements? Engaging in good faith negotiations over the rest of Iran’s 10-point agenda, especially the lifting of US sanctions, while also moving to restore diplomatic relations, might be good first steps.
The reversal in US policy that it would take to resolve this crisis would not be unprecedented. Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan all forced US forces to withdraw from their countries. But those were much longer wars, involving many years of US occupation that went on until popular resistance movements made continued occupation untenable.
How long must the US war on Iran go on, and how badly must the US be defeated, before it will agree to a permanent peace? This crisis can be as long or as short, and as bloody or bloodless, as US leaders choose, and as the American people will tolerate.
The lifting of illegal US sanctions against Iran (#4 on the list) would be a vital part of any solution to this crisis. This would surely be good for both countries, and the United States would be less likely to attack Iran again if the US and Iran have reestablished mutually profitable trade relations.
Ending Israel’s attacks on Iran’s allies (#3), and a broader framework to end regional hostilities (#10) are both steps that most Americans would support. The failure of the US-Israeli war on Iran could be the desperately needed catalyst for the US to transform a US-Israeli military alliance that is committing genocide in Palestine and aggression throughout the region into a new and different relationship bounded by the rules of international law.
A US military withdrawal from its bases around the Persian Gulf could prevent the countries that host them from again becoming targets in US-Israeli wars on Iran, so it is interesting that Iran doesn’t mention them in its ten points. Perhaps Iran sees the value of these US bases as vulnerable targets in this and future wars as outweighing any threat they might pose, but that would be one more reason for the United States to withdraw from them before they cost more American lives.
There is a simple way to avoid one of the most destructive elements in recent failed negotiations with Iran, and that would be to remove Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner from the US negotiating team.
The other five items in the ten-point agenda are all related to the Strait of Hormuz. The strait is within Iran’s and Oman’s territorial waters, although charging ships to pass through it is unprecedented and legally questionable. It is really the US and Israel that should pay reparations to Iran for the death and destruction they have wreaked, not the owners of international merchant ships. But if the US will not agree to pay reparations, Iran’s tollbooths may be a compromise that all sides can live with in order to reopen the strait, as Iran itself calls for in item # 5.
There is a simple way to avoid one of the most destructive elements in recent failed negotiations with Iran, and that would be to remove Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner from the US negotiating team. Discussing prior negotiations, a diplomat from one of the Gulf countries told The Guardian, “We regarded Witkoff and Kushner as Israeli assets that dragged a president into a war he wants to get out of.”
Given Witkoff and Kushner’s foreign loyalties, Trump’s lies and corruption, Rubio’s subservience to Israel, and Hegseth’s bloodlust, the United States can surely find more professional officials to represent it in these difficult negotiations, which have only been made more difficult by the flood of threats, lies and deception from the US side.But since the United States has not really tried to make peace wit Iran since abandoning the JCPOA in 2018, a new team of qualified, experienced US diplomats charged with turning over a new leaf in US-Iran relations could start with a clean slate, and they would have the support of the whole world behind their efforts to resolve this global crisis.
At such a moment in history, a movement that connects the dots between our many struggles is certainly the way forward. The plight of refugees—and how we treat them as a society—is a story that connects us all.
In late March, I sat in the gallery of the Supreme Court for the first time in my life. Throughout my 30 years of grassroots anti-poverty work, I’ve joined countless protests and vigils outside the Court. In 2018, I was even arrested and held in detention for praying on its palatial steps. Now, I was seated with a clear view of the nine justices of the nation’s highest court. I was there as a guest of immigrant rights lawyers, as their team made oral arguments in Noem v. Al Otro Lado, the most significant case on the right to asylum in decades.
In February, the Kairos Center (the organization I direct) authored an interfaith amicus brief on that very case, alongside 31 denominations and organizations representing faith traditions practiced by billions worldwide. Those groups, including the Alliance of Baptists, the Council on American-Islamic Relations, the Episcopal Church, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, Hindus for Human Rights, the Latino Christian National Network, the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), Reconstructing Judaism, the Union for Reform Judaism, the Unitarian Universalist Association, the General Synod of the United Church of Christ, and the General Board of Church and Society of the United Methodist Church, joined together to declare that our societal obligation to provide for persecuted outsiders is a universally shared moral principle.
Although the case has largely flown under the public radar, there is indeed a lot at stake. Filed on behalf of asylum seekers, Noem v. Al Otro Lado focuses on the legality of a 2018 Trump border policy blocking access to the U.S. asylum process for people arriving at the border with Mexico. Immigrant rights advocates argue that such a turnback policy, under which immigration officers physically stop people seeking safety at official border crossings from setting foot on U.S. soil, flouts decades of settled federal immigration law and our society’s most deeply held legal and moral values.
For more than a century, the government has been required to undertake a legal process of inspection when people seek asylum at official ports of entry along the U.S.-Mexico border (as they must inspect all noncitizens seeking admission to the United States). That requirement is supposed to ensure that this country doesn’t send vulnerable people back into danger without first allowing them to seek protection. A wide range of immigration lawyers and legal experts argue that the first Trump administration’s turnback policy, euphemistically called “metering,” directly undermined the government’s responsibility to process such asylum claims. As a result, vulnerable children, families, and adults were regularly forced to remain indefinitely stranded in perilous conditions in Mexico.
Although the turnback policy has not been in effect since 2021, when the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals declared it unlawful, the Trump administration has asked the Supreme Court to review the case. Should the government win (which is all too possible given the hyperpartisan nature of the current Court), the consequences are sure to be grave and far-reaching. The Department of Homeland Security would have the legal backing to turn away untold thousands of desperate people at the border, potentially clearing the way for even more expansive border closures, while further intensifying the jingoistic nationalism that defines the Trump administration. Alongside other landmark cases this term, like Trump v. Barboza, in which the government seeks to undo the constitutional right to birthright citizenship, the results of Noem v. Al Otro Lado are likely to reveal the lengths to which the Supreme Court is willing to backstop the president’s assault on democracy, including accelerated attacks on the rights of vulnerable populations.
The day I was there, the existential stakes of that case and the larger societal crisis in which it was unfolding did not seem to concern the court’s conservative justices. I had the words of George Washington (written in 1788 to the radical Dutch republican Francis Van der Kemp) in my mind as I sat in the gallery: “I had always hoped that this land might become a safe & agreeable asylum to the virtuous & persecuted part of mankind, to whatever nation they might belong.”
Unfortunately, having heard the statements and reactions of some of the judges, I fear that the majority of the Supreme Court may no longer agree with that foundational vision for this country.
Courtroom Friezes and Draconian Law
The first thing that struck me on entering the Supreme Court gallery were the stone friezes on the walls of the room. Designed by Adolf Weinman more than a century ago, those large marble reliefs, featuring what he called the “great lawgivers of history,” tower over the space. Among them are prominent religious figures like Moses (holding a scroll of the Ten Commandments), King Solomon, Confucius, and a rendition of the Prophet Muhammad (that is entirely unrecognizable). The friezes also include Roman Emperor Octavian (otherwise known as Caesar Augustus, Jesus’s great nemesis), French King Louis IX (leader of the seventh and eighth crusades), and Draco (a Greek jurist whose legacy lurks in the word “draconian” because of the extreme measures he took to punish minor offenses).
As I stared at those figures, I reflected on the message they convey about the complex civilizational lineages from which the Supreme Court and our legal system derive their authority. In our amicus brief, we reflected on those varied lineages as they pertain to the right to seek asylum:
“Our asylum laws are the modern embodiment of a deeply rooted religious, cultural, and historical heritage that has consistently affirmed society’s obligation to provide refuge for those seeking safety. Asylum reaches back to some of the earliest moments of recorded human history. It was practiced throughout the ancient civilizations that forged the foundation of Western society. This tradition can also be found in the form of church sanctuary asylum, a mainstay of European culture for over a millennium.
“Our very nation began as a haven for persecuted political and religious minorities. This tradition is present throughout our history, from the practices of Native Americans to the Underground Railroad to modern times. Congress adopted our current asylum laws in significant part due to the efforts of faith-based groups seeking to uphold deeply held societal, moral, and cultural principles.”
Despite such deeply held and ancient principles, I couldn’t shake a sense of impending doom as I scanned the faces on the friezes and those of the justices. I thought of the awesome and awful power of Rome, depicted throughout the gallery, and its draconian reign of “peace” (or what Secretary of War Pete Hegseth recently termed “delivering peace through strength”). And I recalled the worsening anti-democratic and pro-oligarchic turn our own Supreme Court has taken in the Trump era.
Just consider the rulings from the past few years: the Court has essentially given immunity to the executive branch (although the Court is supposed to be a critical part of a federal system of checks and balances), criminalized homelessness (although the U.S. claims to be a nation of opportunity and prosperity for all), and degraded voting rights (cutting off the legs of our democracy).
Before oral arguments began in Noem v. Al Otro Lado, I was under no illusion that the Supreme Court delivers equality, freedom, and justice for all. And yet, on an issue as basic and legally sound as the right to seek asylum, I was still shocked by the flippancy of the court’s conservative judges. For hours, they rocked in their chairs, physically broadcasting their disinterest in the case. Rather than take seriously more than 100 years of legal precedent and hundreds more of long-established societal practice, they seemed to enjoy getting into hyper-specific and cherrypicked semantic and rhetorical arguments with Kelsi Brown Cochran, our lawyer.
In preparation for that day, I had brushed up on the history of U.S. asylum law. An important story in that history is the S.S. St. Louis, a ship that in 1939 was carrying 930 refugees from Hamburg, Germany, fleeing the Nazi regime, who were first denied entry to Cuba and then to the United States, only to be returned to Europe, where many of them were taken to the Nazi death camps.
Reflecting on that story at a pre-hearing press conference, Nicole Elizabeth Ramos, border rights project director at Al Otro Lado, a plaintiff in the case, offered this explanation:
“The right to seek asylum is not a policy preference or a loophole — it is a legal right and a moral commitment forged in the aftermath of the Holocaust. Seeking asylum is not like taking a number at a deli counter and waiting for your turn. You cannot ask someone fleeing rape, torture, or death threats to wait in danger indefinitely because a government has decided their lives are inconvenient. We filed this case because the United States has an obligation to follow its own laws — laws duly enacted by Congress. The question before the Court is whether those laws can be set aside by executive action, or whether they remain binding at the border, as written.”
In their apparent willingness to flout precedent and condemn modern-day asylees to harm or even death, the conservative justices unselfconsciously aligned themselves with American nativism and European fascism of the 1930s. If, in their final decision, they uphold Trump’s turnback policy, they will be affirming that, were the S.S. St Louis to sail again today, the ship would still be denied entry and its passengers asylum.
The Moral Crisis Is Not “Border Surges” But the Closing of the Border
The morning of those oral arguments, the Kairos Center and other faith organizations held an interfaith prayer vigil on the steps of the Supreme Court to call attention to the case. Reverend Michael Neuroth, director of the United Church of Christ’s Washington D.C. office, put the matter vividly: “Welcoming and protecting the stranger is not a minor tenet of our faith but is a foundational moral obligation in each of our traditions. Dismantling the right to asylum is morally wrong, strategically short-sighted, and increases insecurity here in our nation. We must be a nation of compassion, a place of refuge to those in need.”
The vigil was organized in the heart of the “holy season” amid Ramadan, Passover, and Easter. As billions of people globally engage in rituals of remembrance, repentance, deliverance, and liberation, our prayers and petitions focused not only on the legal precedent for the right to seek asylum, but on the moral imperative to do so. For Christians, protecting and welcoming the immigrant is one of Jesus’s first and most powerful teachings. It’s also among the highest moral commands of the Torah. As the prophet Jeremiah reminds us, “Do no wrong to the foreigner and do not shed innocent blood.” Asylum and societal hospitality are well-recognized rights within Islamic law and theology, a fundamental Hindu and Buddhist tenet, and part of Native American spiritual teachings.
In our interfaith amicus brief, we wrote: “As the many faiths practiced by this country’s citizens teach, a society that does not protect the least among us is a failed society.” As faith leaders, we had in mind not only the right to seek asylum, but the many ways the Trump administration has deepened and intensified a moral crisis at the heart of our society. We were thinking about the ongoing attacks on immigrant communities — from ICE-led campaigns of terror to family and child detention in places like Dilley, Texas. There was also the stripping of life-saving healthcare and food support from millions of Americans through cuts to Medicaid and the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP); the criminalization and forced deprivation of LGBTQ+ people; and the prosecution of anillegal war that threatens the lives of so many in Iran and the broader region, as well as the livelihoods of billions of us across this globe.
In Noem v. Al Otro Lado, the Trump administration is attempting to mask its cruelty and despotism through banal legal arguments. By focusing semantically on when protections start for asylum seekers and debating the meaning of the term “arrives in” (as in this country, of course), its lawyers were ignoring the illegality and immorality of border agents blocking asylum seekers from crossing the U.S.-Mexican border and the larger question of whether the United States can any longer be a place of safety and protection for all families “yearning to be free” of violence and persecution.
The government is, of course, hoping that we don’t make the connections between the stripping away of asylum rights, the larger issue of immigrant rights, and the many other ways that it’s targeting “the least among us.” That’s a mistake we can’t make and where the teachings of our many faith traditions have encouragement to offer. In Buddhism, Christianity, Hinduism, Islam, Judaism, and more, love, justice, and peace are not parceled out only for certain people in certain places. Across our religions, all life is sacred, full stop!
No Turning Back for Anyone
Intermixed with the important lawgivers of history in that marble frieze in the Supreme Court gallery are engraved winged personifications of “Peace,” “The Rights of Man,” “History,” “Authority,” “Fame,” and more. Those winged characters form what looked to me like a Greco-Roman “choir of angels,” proclaiming “law and order” at the expense of rights and dignity for us all.
Sitting there, I reflected on just who was not in that room listening to those arguments or forcing the Supreme Court justices to face the very lives impacted by their decision. I thought about all those who will never have access to that courtroom, or justice of any sort for that matter, the millions of people struggling to fight for their communities and a future where everybody is in and nobody is out.
Those people are — or at least should be — our hope. They are the true “choir of angels” who came out for the recent No Kings Day demonstrations and are standing up for the rights and dignity of communities all over the country. They are also the people who are increasingly giving Donald Trump historically low approval ratings. And here’s the truth of these times: this administration has nothing to offer everyday people, other than hardened borders and wars that nobody wants.
At such a moment in history, a movement that connects the dots between our many struggles is certainly the way forward. Therefore, it seems fitting that the coalition that came together to fight this case and protect the rights of asylum seekers calls itself “No Turning Back.” It reminds me of a song by Emma’s Revolution that I’ve sung many times at protests and gatherings. Its key lines are a reminder of what we all need to keep in mind in this deeply disturbing Trumpian moment of ours:
“Gonna keep on moving forward
Keep on moving forward
Keep on moving forward
Never turning back
Never turning back”
Because indeed, there can be no turning back for any of us. Either we get there together or we never get there at all.
Comparing the religious rhetoric and call to civic virtue of Martin Luther King, Jr. to the vile language and deeds of morally corrupt individuals as Donald Trump, JD Vance, and Pete Hegseth.
Today is the 63rd anniversary of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s release from the Birmingham, Alabama jail in which he penned his famous “Letter from Birmingham Jail.”
The “Letter,” a response to eight White moderate clergyman who publicly called on King’s Southern Christian Leadership Conference to stop its desegregation campaign in the name of “law and order and common sense,” is one of the most widely discussed texts in US history. Most of the discussion has focused, rightly, on the way King carefully and respectfully outlines a justification and strategy of non-violent civil disobedience, to be undertaken when attempts to redress grievances are repeatedly ignored; after careful preparation; and in the name of a higher law. While scholars continue to discuss and debate the nuances of King’s text, the force of his arguments, and their general applicability, there can be no doubt that both the “Letter” and the Birmingham campaign that the “Letter” explains and justifies have informed subsequent generations of protest in the US and the world at large.
At a time when the Trump administration is making war on “domestic enemies” and continuing a campaign of terror against undocumented immigrants and anyone suspected of being “an illegal,” and when citizens have resisted these efforts in the streets of major American cities--most notably in Minneapolis this past January—both King’s example, and his “Letter,” justifiably loom large in public discussion. And while the citizens of Minneapolis surely did not literally follow King’s the letter of King’s “Letter,” their extraordinary and successful campaign of resistance to ICE was surely in the spirit of King’s text and his example.
To read King’s “Letter from Birmingham Jail” is to be reminded of just how low our public life has fallen in the age of Trump...
As I reflect today on the “Letter,” however, I want to focus on a different dimension of the “Letter”: the way King--a holder of a doctorate in theology, a Black Baptist Minister, and the leader of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference—carefully braided together religious and secular rhetoric to make the case for a more inclusive democracy, invoking a range of exemplary religious figures and texts while deliberately using language that was itself manifestly inclusive. Many scholars have written about this. At the same time, I think it bears special emphasis given the way that the Trump administration, in ways large and small, hidden and public, is now promoting, with a vengeance, what can only be described as a form of militant Christian nationalism.
The New York Times reports that “Trump’s Planning of America’s 250th Suggests a Religious Focus.” Columnist Ja'han Jones, writing for MS Now, goes further, observing that “Trump is planning a Christian ‘revival’ for America’s 250th anniversary,” continuing: “Let there be no doubt. The president is using the milestone celebration to promote far-right evangelism and Trump-centric Christianity.”
In the same vein, Politico reports on the administration’s Easter enthusiasm:
several key Cabinet departments [were] heralding Christ’s resurrection on their official social media accounts. “He is risen,” declared the Department of Homeland Security and the State Department. The Defense Department shared a post on X from Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth: “The tomb is empty. The promise is fulfilled. Through His sacrifice, we are redeemed. We stand firm in faith, courage, and truth.” The Justice Department also chimed in on X:“Today, as millions of Christians gather in their churches across the nation to celebrate the resurrection of Christ, this Department—is proud to defend religious liberty.”
Most disturbing has been the way the Trump administration has very publicly treated its war on Iran as a Christian holy war. Trump did this indirectly when he declared, on Good Friday, that:
As we rejoice in this Easter season, we are reminded that the life of Jesus Christ and the truths of the Gospel have inspired our way of life and our national identity for 250 years. From the Christian patriots who won and secured our liberty on the battlefield and every generation since, the love of Christ has unfailingly guided our Nation through calm waters and dark storms. . . . We acknowledge that, through Christ’s redeeming sacrifice, in the words of Holy Scripture, “Death is swallowed up in victory.” Above all, we echo with tremendous joy those sacred words that have given life, hope, and purpose to Christians for thousands of years: He is risen.
Hegseth has been more emphatically bellicose, especially in this much discussed, bone-chilling prayer offered at a recent Pentagon worship service:
Let every round find its mark against the enemies of righteousness and our great nation. Give them wisdom in every decision, endurance for the trial ahead, unbreakable unity, and overwhelming violence of action against those who deserve no mercy.
The administration has been so resolutely Manichean and indeed bloodthirsty in its war rhetoric—with Trump going as far as to threaten the literal annihilation of not simply Iran but Iranian civilization itself—that Pope Leo XIV has felt obliged to publicly weigh in to call it to account. As Trump and his supine protégé JD Vance have responded with a combination of vituperation and arrogance, Leo has become more sharply critical even as he has continued to speak with great nuance. Trump’s Social Truth post representing himself as Jesus Christ, and the widespread charges of “blasphemy” that have followed, are simply surface expressions of the much deeper and more dangerous fact that the Trump administration is acting with utter contempt for any moral or political limits, and doing so by presenting itself as the veritable agent of a Christian holy war against the forces of the anti-Christ.
At a moment when such morally corrupt individuals as Trump, Vance, and Hegseth present themselves as agents of both religious virtue and “American Greatness,” King’s “Letter” exemplifies the way that serious moral and religious commitment can elevate democratic politics.
Beginning his “Letter” by immediately addressing the claim of his religious critics that he is an “outsider,” King makes no bones about his own religious connections and convictions. He points out that as President of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, he has come to Birmingham at the invitation of the Alabama Christian Movement for Human Rights. He then goes further, situating himself openly in a long tradition of Christian dissent:
I am in Birmingham because injustice is here. Just as the prophets of the eighth century b.c. left their villages and carried their “thus saith the Lord” far beyond the boundaries of their home towns, and just as the Apostle Paul left his village of Tarsus and carried the gospel of Jesus Christ to the far corners of the Greco-Roman world, so am I compelled to carry the gospel of freedom beyond my own home town. Like Paul, I must constantly respond to the Macedonian call for aid.
But he then quickly shifts to the third and more general reason for his presence, articulating what are the most famous sentences of the “Letter”:
I am cognizant of the interrelatedness of all communities and states. I cannot sit idly by in Atlanta and not be concerned about what happens in Birmingham. Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. Never again can we afford to live with the narrow, provincial “outside agitator” idea. Anyone who lives inside the United States can never be considered an outsider anywhere within its bounds.
From the start, then, King articulates a pluralistic sense of his own identity, as the leader of a specific Christian movement, as a Christian, and as a citizen of the US and indeed of the world.
The entire “Letter” draws its force from King’s consistent and persistent performance of a rhetorical and political pluralism. When rebutting the charge that he is an “extremist,” he begins, famously, by asking “was not Jesus an extremist for love”—and it is relevant that he speaks here of “Jesus” the man, and not “Christ,” not because he abjures the language of “Christ,” but because he wishes to strike an ecumenical tone, and to call attention to a kind of courage to which any good man can aspire. King then continues, in the same paragraph and in the same vein, to list the others with whom he identifies: Amos, Paul, Martin Luther, Paul Bunyan, Lincoln, Jefferson, three of whom are quite obviously not “Christian” at all.
When explaining his distinction between a just and an unjust law, he writes that “a just law is a man-made code that squares with the moral law or the law of God. An unjust law is a code that is out of harmony with the moral law,” and then explains by citing Augustine and Thomas Aquinas, Paul Tillich, “the Jewish philosopher Martin Buber,” and the language of the Brown v. Board decision itself.
When recalling heroic dissidents of the past, he names Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego from the Hebrew Bible’s Book of Daniel, the early Christians, Socrates, and the rebels behind the Boston Tea Party.
Every move King makes in the first half of the “Letter” is deliberately ecumenical, drawing on a plurality of religious sources, Biblical and theological, and a variety of secular sources, from Socrates to the American revolutionaries to Lincoln.
When King then shifts into a more direct critique of the church, he explicitly includes “white ministers, priests, and rabbis.” And when he makes clear his own deep personal Christian faith, charity, and love, he immediately shifts into a more general tone:
In deep disappointment I have wept over the laxity of the church. But be assured that my tears have been tears of love. There can be no deep disappointment where there is not deep love. Yes, I love the church. How could I do otherwise? I am in the rather unique position of being the son, the grandson and the great-grandson of preachers. Yes, I see the church as the body of Christ. But, oh! How we have blemished and scarred that body through social neglect and through fear of being nonconformists.
What then follows is a long critique of the church for its forgetfulness of a “God intoxication” that demands a concern for justice, concluding that “the judgment of God is upon the church as never before.” But even here, King refuses the rhetoric of jeremiad, opting instead for the words of hopeful persuasion with which he concludes:
I hope this letter finds you strong in the faith. I also hope that circumstances will soon make it possible for me to meet each of you, not as an integrationist or a civil-rights leader but as a fellow clergyman and a Christian brother. Let us all hope that the dark clouds of racial prejudice will soon pass away and the deep fog of misunderstanding will be lifted from our fear-drenched communities, and in some not too distant tomorrow the radiant stars of love and brotherhood will shine over our great nation with all their scintillating beauty.
In his “Letter” King performs a sincere and serious religious commitment—a Christian, Baptist religious commitment, which he completely owns—while simultaneously performing a commitment to religious pluralism, democratic citizenship, and human rights. He ends with the hope of one day meeting his interlocutors “as a fellow clergyman and a Christian brother” because he is a clergyman and a Christian, who is directly engaging other religious leaders, each of whom leads a different community in a distinct way, and each of whom can be regarded as a kind of “brother.” He does not limit this hope to only Christians. He makes no reference here to Christ or the crucifixion or the resurrection or the end of days or God’s harsh judgment. King speaks not in the language of Holy War or Crusade. He speaks in the language of brotherhood, fraternity, commonality, and citizenship.
And indeed, while speaking in the language of universalism and ecumenicism, King also very deliberately, and emphatically, invokes a distinctly American political tradition of freedom, articulating this political vision:
One day the South will know that when these disinherited children of God sat down at lunch counters, they were in reality standing up for what is best in the American dream and for the most sacred values in our Judaeo-Christian heritage, thereby bringing our nation back to those great wells of democracy which were dug deep by the founding fathers in their formulation of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence.
Unlike Trump and Hegseth, who wrap their unaccountable rhetorical and deadly violence in a cloak of evangelical Christian righteousness, Martin Luther King, Jr. wrote these, his most famous words, from a jail cell, while placing his life on the line in the name of a real commitment to freedom and justice. It is impossible to separate out King’s exemplary political courage from his profound Christian convictions, which he shared with his SCLC colleagues, even as he marched and collaborated with many who did not share these convictions. King makes his Christian faith clear. But he makes equally clear that in a democratic society, or at least a society professing democratic values, it is both possible and necessary for people of good will from a variety of religious, cultural, and moral places to reach toward an overlapping and common commitment to equal dignity, justice, and citizenship.
To read King’s “Letter From Birmingham Jail” is to be reminded of just how low our public life has fallen in the age of Trump, and how corrupt, venal, and dangerous is the rhetoric of religious fundamentalism when deployed by cynical autocrats intent on targeting and destroying “enemies.” But it is also to be reminded that words can elevate as well as denigrate, and that true moral conviction, whatever its cultural or religious grounding, can make a real difference in promoting a better, more just and more democratic world.
This is not a story about Trump breaking the law. It’s a story about Congress watching him do it and choosing, repeatedly, to look away.
There’s a line in the U.S. Constitution so simple it shouldn’t require interpretation. Article I, Section 8: Congress has the power to declare war. Not the President. Congress. The Founders were explicit about this. James Madison called it “the most sacred of all” constitutional provisions — the one safeguard against a single person dragging a republic into bloodshed.
On February 28, 2026, at approxiomately 1:15 am ET, the United States began bombing Iran. No declaration of war. No congressional vote. No single national security incident was cited as the basis for the attack—Trump instead recounted 47 years of U.S.–Iran tensions, beginning with the 1979 hostage crisis, as justification. The bombs fell anyway.
What happened next is the part that should disturb you more than the war itself.
Congress had a choice. It had the tool — the War Powers Resolution of 1973, passed over Nixon’s veto precisely to prevent this kind of unilateral military adventurism. The law is unambiguous: the president may not enter U.S. troops into hostilities without express congressional authorization, regardless of a conflict’s scale or duration. The 60-day clock started ticking the moment the first bomb dropped. Congress could have acted.
It didn’t. When Senators Kaine and Paul introduced a War Powers Resolution on March 1, the Senate voted it down 53–47. Then they voted it down again. And again. By mid-April, the Senate had rejected Democratic efforts to force an end to U.S. military involvement in Iran four separate times, voting largely along party lines.
Four votes. Four failures. This is not a story about Trump breaking the law. It’s a story about Congress watching him do it and choosing, repeatedly, to look away.
The War Powers Resolution was supposed to be the fix for exactly this situation. Widely considered a measure for preventing “future Vietnams,” it was nonetheless generally resisted or ignored by subsequent presidents, many of whom regarded it as an unconstitutional usurpation of their executive authority.
Every president since Nixon has treated it as optional; Clinton in Kosovo, Obama in Libya, and now Trump in Iran. The pattern is so consistent it barely registers as news anymore. But what has changed, and what makes Operation Epic Fury different, is the scale.
This is markedly different in scope, scale, and objective from the more limited US attack on Iran of June 2025 which targeted senior leadership, military infrastructure, and nuclear capabilities. This is a war by any honest definition. The administration just refuses to call it one.
Secretary of State Marco Rubio told Fox News: “This is not a war against Iran,” the same view held by most modern presidents and their lawyers in the Office of Legal Counsel. If you call it something else—a “police action,” a “limited engagement,” or a “kinetic military operation”—you never have to ask permission. Truman did it in Korea. Nixon did it in Cambodia. The euphemisms change; the evasion doesn’t.
But here’s the thing about this particular evasion. Congress isn’t powerless here it’s passive. The appropriations power alone gives lawmakers the ability to cut off funding for any military operation they find objectionable.
The annual National Defense Authorization Act process, combined with supplemental appropriations, provides multiple leverage points. Republican leadership isn’t using any of them. They’re not even seriously trying. Speaker Johnson called the War Powers Resolution vote “a terrible, dangerous idea” that would “empower our enemies.” That’s not a constitutional argument. That’s cover.
And the Democrats? They’ve forced the votes, yes. Sen. Tim Kaine (D-Va.) has been relentless. But Kaine himself acknowledged that the renewed effort was unlikely to go anywhere, but said it’s important for members of Congress to go on record. "Going on record." That’s what it’s come to—symbolic gestures in the face of a $200 billion war that nobody voted for.
The costs are real. The war has already cost at least $12 billion, and the Pentagon has asked the White House to approve a $200 billion supplemental request to Congress to fund the conflict. The Strait of Hormuz closed. Global oil markets lurched. Economic shocks have rippled outward, with the costs falling on ordinary Americans while those who profit from endless war count their returns. Children were killed at a school in Minab. The 60-day deadline has come and gone.
The War Powers Resolution was built for this moment. It was written by legislators who had watched Vietnam consume a generation because no one in Congress had the spine to call a war a war. “After Nixon, it’s gone on from one president to the next , they believe they can use military force against one country after another,” says Louis Fisher, who served for 35 years as senior specialist in separation of powers at the Congressional Research Service.
Fifty years later, the lesson has not been learned. The resolution that was supposed to restore congressional war powers has instead become a ritual. A series of doomed votes that let lawmakers signal opposition without actually exercising it.
There is one question that cuts through all of it. Sen. Kaine asked it directly on the Senate floor: “If you don’t have the guts to vote yes or no on a war vote, how dare you send our sons and daughters into war where they risk their lives?”
No one answered him. That silence is the real story.
The 1973 War Powers Resolution wasn’t just a law. It was a promise that the United States would never again stumble into a catastrophic military conflict without the consent of the people’s elected representatives. Operation Epic Fury has broken that promise to the American people once again. Congress has the power to keep it. Right now, it is choosing not to.
That choice has a cost. Someone should start paying it.