Military Neutrality Is Fidelity

On Oct. 17, various Tennessee lawmakers filed a lawsuit against Tennessee Gov. Bill Lee seeking to block the governor’s deployment of the Tennessee National Guard into the streets of Memphis at the request of President Trump. In the first line of their complaint, the plaintiffs emphasize the importance of political neutrality in the U.S. military for the preservation of democracy. They write:

The “traditional and strong resistance of Americans to any military intrusion into civilian affairs” has “deep roots in our history.” Our nation’s founders recognized that military rule was incompatible with liberty and democracy. Wary of the tyrannical threat posed by a militarized federal government, the founders took pains to enshrine in the Constitution civilian control of the military, limits on the maintenance of a national army, reliance on the states’ militia for national defense, and local control of the general police power. Foundational principles of American law therefore limit the military’s involvement in domestic affairs.

And on Oct. 20 in Oregon v. Trump, the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit ruled that President Trump has the legal authority to deploy the Oregon National Guard into Portland under 10 U.S.C. § 12406(3). In a dissenting opinion, however, Judge Susan P. Graber offered the following:

Today’s President seeks to bring troops into one set of States to enforce one set of laws; a future President may seek to bring troops into a different set of States to enforce a different set of laws. Partisans who cheer this President’s use of troops to protect personnel who are enforcing federal immigration laws would do well to consider whether they would be equally pleased if a future President uses troops to protect personnel who are enforcing laws that they vehemently dislike. Except in true emergencies, and by design of the Founders and Congress, our civil society resolves its disputes without domestic military intervention.

These fights are not occurring in an ideological vacuum; they track closely with current partisan divisions. Inadvertently, they have also revived deeper, more fundamental questions about what military neutrality truly requires, the limits of the military’s proper role, and who decides when an order crosses a constitutional line.

Some might contend that neutrality may, in extraordinary circumstances, obligate resistance to lawful orders in the name of saving democracy. That claim has intuitive appeal at a time when some no longer see misuse of the military as a remote hypothetical. Yet history and principle suggest the opposite. The path to preserving democracy is not discretionary officer resistance, but fidelity to the Constitution and the lawful authorities it empowers.

It is natural and wise for citizens to worry about a force strong enough to defend the nation but also capable of threatening it. Civilian control exists precisely to balance that paradox. This concern becomes dangerous, however, when it shifts into a belief that the military must step outside its constitutional bounds to save the nation from itself. These questions recur across administrations, regardless of party, and the principles at stake are not tied to any single moment or leader.

Some public commentary has at times suggested that senior military leaders might need to “save the country” in moments of political crisis, casting generals as the steady hands who could safeguard democracy when civilian leadership falters. Articles during periods of political turmoil portrayed them as stabilizing figures or even as corrective forces to civilian authority. Consider the oft-repeated claim that Gen. Mark Milley “needed” to call his counterpart in China to prevent war during the 2020 presidential transition. Such ideas are seductive because they promise order amid uncertainty, yet they are deeply dangerous to democratic governance. They rest on the belief that stability can be preserved by the judgment of unelected officers rather than by the constitutional institutions designed to hold power accountable. This view elevates personality over process and risks transforming the military from a constitutional instrument into a political arbiter.

Recent commentary by public officials warning service members about following “unlawful orders” has only deepened the confusion. On its surface, such rhetoric simply restates a familiar principle. But the implication that unlawful orders are already being issued invites service members to guess which directives political actors have in mind and to fear later punishment if they comply. That is not neutrality; it is politicization by proxy, and it places military professionals in an impossible position long before courts or elected branches have resolved the underlying legal questions. The strength of a republic rests not on guardians in uniform but on institutions capable of resolving disputes without conscripting the military into partisan conflict.

Neutrality in a democracy is not officer discretion; it is fidelity to the Constitution, to lawful civilian authority, and to the system of checks and balances the framers designed. The question is not how neutrality sounds in abstract theory, but how to operationalize the oath in practice.

The Oath and the Constitution: Institutions, Not Intentions

American officers swear to support and defend the Constitution. It has become fashionable to say the oath is to an idea. That is true. But for an idea to matter, it must be made concrete. Supporting and defending the Constitution means preserving the system it created and the institutions it empowers. To defend the Constitution is to protect the framework where disputes are resolved by courts and elections, not bayonets. It means defending all three branches of government and their ability to perform their prescribed duties. The executive branch—which commands the armed forces—requires officers’ unequivocal loyalty to its lawful orders. Civilian control depends on the military’s clear subordination to the president and appointed officials acting under law. Congress likewise deserves loyalty and protection not only because it funds the military but also because it provides oversight and legitimacy. The judiciary, as the ultimate interpreter of the Constitution, requires compliance with its rulings, for its authority ensures that disputes are settled by law rather than force. None of these institutions is peripheral to civilian control; each is central to the constitutional system.

This is more than rhetoric. Fidelity to the Constitution requires officers to protect, not supplant, constitutional institutions.

According to the Constitution, the military has a responsibility to carry out lawful orders issued by the president (the commander in chief of the military) and other executive branch officials appointed under law. Almost without exception, those in military power must demonstrate unambiguous loyalty to the civilian authority entrusted with command of the armed forces. If they have any concerns about any orders or operations, military personnel must raise concerns through established channels while preserving the chain of command as the constitutional mechanism for directing military power. 

In regard to the legislative branch, the role of the military is to safeguard Congress’s ability to convene, debate, legislate, and oversee. The military must comply with lawful subpoenas through proper channels and must safeguard its independence. The military’s loyalty to Congress also affirms the legislature’s role as the source of funding, oversight, and legitimacy for military action.

The military must also obey the judiciary’s lawful orders and injunctions, seek judicial review when necessary, and comply fully with final judgments. Officers are not arbiters of constitutional disputes; the courts are. Fidelity to the judiciary ensures that disagreements are resolved by law rather than by force.

Neutrality, properly understood, is not passivity. It is a disciplined action in service of constitutional institutions. Understanding these institutional obligations is one thing; translating them into action is another.

From Principle to Practice: Operationalizing Fidelity

How does this look in reality, not theory? The starting point is obedience to lawful authority. Officers carry out lawful orders issued through the chain of command, and the presumption runs in favor of obedience when those orders are within the authority of the issuer and not manifestly unlawful. But that presumption has limits, because fidelity also requires the refusal of unlawful orders. Since the Nuremberg Trials, and codified in the Uniform Code of Military Justice, the duty to refuse plainly unlawful orders has been clear. Soldiers are not automatons.

When the legality of an order is uncertain, the proper response is not officer-initiated resistance. It is structured dissent. This means seeking legal counsel, elevating concerns through the chain of command, requesting written clarification, and notifying appropriate civilian authorities, while carefully documenting concerns. In volatile situations, officers should adopt an institution-first force posture. Their mission is to secure constitutional actors and venues so that they can function (to protect courts and legislatures) and to facilitate lawful decision-makers rather than replace them. And as a last resort, officers can offer their resignations. Officers can, and sometimes should, resign rather than lend their authority to actions they believe unlawful or fundamentally corrosive. Resignation carries political costs, but it preserves the chain of accountability by returning decisions to elected leaders and the courts.
This disciplined approach trades the romance of “guardian” narratives for the hard work of constitutional service. Before turning to examples, it is important to distinguish structured dissent from resistance.

Structured Dissent Versus Resistance

Controversies repeatedly demonstrate how complex these determinations are. Often, even legal experts cannot agree on whether certain actions are legal. That level of ambiguity reinforces why service members should not be expected to navigate such questions on their own, particularly in a polarized environment where political actors may frame legality to suit partisan aims. In such circumstances, structured dissent—not officer-initiated resistance—is the only professional and constitutional way to handle uncertainty.

The difference between structured dissent and resistance is more than a matter of semantics. Resistance, whether through quiet disobedience, bureaucratic delay, or subtle circumvention of intent, has no place in a professional military. It undermines lawful authority and invites similar behavior among subordinates. Structured dissent, by contrast, employs the established procedures and policies of the institution to raise concerns, clarify intent, and ensure legality. It operates within the chain of command and can be carried out with purpose, transparency, and urgency. Resistance, by its nature, is covert, susceptible to subversion, and corrosive to trust and discipline. One preserves institutional integrity; the other erodes it.

Structured dissent is not hesitation in the face of authority, but disciplined fidelity to it. It is how professionalism translates moral concern into institutional process. It protects officers from substituting personal conscience for legal judgment, while ensuring that serious doubts are recorded, reviewed, and resolved within the constitutional chain of command. In this sense, structured dissent is not disobedience delayed; it is accountability operationalized. 

Examples From Abroad

The challenge comes in “hard cases”—that is, orders legal in form that appear corrosive in substance. The instinct to prescribe officer-initiated resistance is understandable but misguided. There are other courses of action that preserve both loyalty and constitutional process.

Consider a South Korea-type nightmare scenario in which soldiers are directed to enter the Capitol complex. The choices are not simply blind obedience or outright defiance. A disciplined officer facing such an order confronts a tragic dilemma: Compliance risks violating the legislature’s independence, while refusal risks insubordination. Structured dissent does not eliminate this tension, but it provides a lawful way to navigate it. The immediate duty is to preserve life, prevent escalation, and seek clarification through command and judicial channels. Soldiers might secure the area to prevent violence while preserving legislators’ ability to convene and deliberate, and they should request written clarification of intent from civilian authorities. If ordered to act contrary to the Constitution’s design—for example, to obstruct the legislature’s ability to meet—the officer’s obligation is to elevate the issue through legal counsel and to seek judicial review as quickly as circumstances allow. Such steps may appear slow under pressure, but they represent a restrained, constitutional course of action. This is not generals becoming guardians of an idea; it is soldiers fulfilling their oath to defend the constitutional system. One path affirms civilian control by protecting the institutions named in the Constitution. The other invites military activism.

History shows that once militaries assume a discretionary role as guardians, “extraordinary” interventions quickly become ordinary. For decades, the Turkish military claimed a special duty to protect secular democracy, rooted in its self-appointed mandate under the 1961 and 1982 constitutions to act as the ultimate defender of the Kemalist order. That logic produced repeated coups to “correct” the drift from democracy, which eventually led to an authoritarian consolidation that weakened democratic accountability. Egypt (2013) and Thailand (2006, 2014) followed similar patterns. Each time, officers insisted they were defending democracy. Each time, democracy was weakened. 

These examples are cautionary, not analogies. They illustrate how a military entrusted with deciding when to resist “for democracy” is soon a political actor in its own right. The United States should not flirt with this model.

Misunderstanding Neutrality

A persistent error in the debate is collapsing neutrality into a binary of “obey or resist.” Neutrality does not mean blind obedience, nor does it mean discretionary resistance. It means fidelity expressed through restraint. Labeling refusal as “neutral” does not make it so. Resistance is never neutral; it replaces elected authority with officer judgment. Once officers begin resisting lawful orders on grounds of neutrality, they are no longer neutral. They are political actors in uniform.

The better standard is older, simpler, and safer: Obey lawful authority; refuse unlawful orders; protect the institutions the Constitution names; and leave constitutional interpretation to the branches designed for it. 

Officers are not democracy’s police force. They are its servants. The oath is not a roving commission to revise constitutional meaning in moments of stress. It is a promise to uphold the structure that lets the people, through Congress, the courts, and elections, correct excess and abuse.

That is why fidelity to institutions is the right lodestar. It channels moral urgency into lawful mechanisms. It refuses the seductive claim that a wise officer corps can keep the polity safe by stepping outside the system. It insists, instead, on the humility that makes republican government possible. 

Fidelity, Not Fiction

Neutrality is fidelity. It is not fiction; nor is it officer discretion. It is obedience to lawful authority, refusal of unlawful orders, and visible protection of the institutions the Constitution creates so that they can do their work. Officers are neither judges nor litigants in defining democracy’s boundaries. And in the United States, the uniform is not a veto.

The temptation to expand the military’s role in protecting democracy is perhaps understandable in an era of polarization. But the cure must not become worse than the disease. The U.S. military’s neutrality does not lie in officer-initiated resistance to lawful authority. It lies in fidelity to the system the framers entrusted to civilian hands and in a professional ethic that protects Congress, the courts, and elections so that the people, not the officer corps, remain sovereign. Neutrality, in this sense, operationalizes the oath to an idea rather than to any individual. It translates constitutional principle into disciplined conduct within lawful institutions. Structured dissent remains the narrow but essential space between obedience and defiance where professional judgment safeguards both legality and liberty.