The Emoluments Clause Is Not a Suggestion

Photo by Sonder Quest on Unsplash

Two plus two equals four. There are twenty-four hours in a day. And when the president of the United States accepts the benefit of a half-billion-dollar private aircraft from a foreign monarchy, we are not in the realm of clever politics. We are in the realm of constitutional crisis.

Let us dispense with the fiction. The story is that this jet, provided by Qatar, is not a personal gift to Trump but a donation to his presidential library. That this future-oriented asset somehow places the arrangement outside the prohibitions of the Constitution's Foreign Emoluments Clause. That the benefit is institutional, not personal.

But here is the legal analysis: The president is receiving the benefit. He will use the plane. He will enjoy the prestige, the utility, the access. The end.

The Foreign Emoluments Clause was written by men who feared one thing above all: the corruption of American governance by foreign powers. They did not say the president could accept gifts with the right paperwork. They did not say the president could accept personal benefit so long as he named a public purpose. They said:

"No Person holding any Office of Profit or Trust under them, shall, without the Consent of the Congress, accept of any present, Emolument, Office, or Title, of any kind whatever, from any King, Prince, or foreign State."

There is no ambiguity here. There is no legal footnote. There is no interpretive wiggle room. A gift is a gift. A benefit is a benefit. And if it comes from a foreign state, it is prohibited unless Congress explicitly consents.

Trump has not received consent. He has not asked for consent. He has not acknowledged that consent is required.

And now, lawyers are lining up to tell us that perhaps the arrangement skirts the rules. That perhaps there's a legal theory that makes it all acceptable. That perhaps the commitment to use the jet for his library turns it into something else.

This is not legal interpretation. This is sophistry in the service of power.

Let us not pretend this is complicated. The clause is not a regulation. It is not a statute. It is not a policy. It is a constitutional prohibition. One of the earliest. One of the clearest. One of the most unambiguous.

To accept a gift from a foreign prince is to violate the Constitution. To benefit from it without consequence is to mock the rule of law. And to argue otherwise is to participate in the erosion of the republic.

And this is what is most dangerous: the normalization of lawbreaking as spectacle. The institutionalization of excuses. The transformation of plain text into academic puzzle. The elevation of legal cleverness over moral clarity.

If the Foreign Emoluments Clause cannot be enforced here, it cannot be enforced at all. If this is not a violation, then the clause is dead letter. And if the clause is dead letter, then so is the principle of uncorrupted governance.

This is not a partisan matter. It is a constitutional matter. It is an American matter. And if you cannot say clearly that this is wrong—regardless of your party, your preferences, your priors—then you have already surrendered to the logic of tyranny.

You will not find the defense of this in the writings of Hamilton or Madison. You will not find it in the precedent of Lincoln or Roosevelt. You will find it only in the halls of power that believe they are beyond constraint. And in the legal profession that enables them.

But the truth is still the truth.

Trump is accepting the benefit of a foreign gift. That gift is of immense value. It is being delivered under the color of legitimacy but in direct violation of the Constitution.

There is no workaround.

There is no footnote.

There is only the truth.

And in this moment, speaking it clearly is not just right.

It is patriotism.