United States: 250 Years Without Kings

This Saturday, the United States turns 250 years old as a remarkable nation. Throughout this period, it has maintained the same Constitution, the same currency, and an uninterrupted succession of democratic elections.

In a world where republics frequently succumb to coups, revolutions, or constitutional restarts, there is something extraordinary about the longevity of American institutions. Enviable, even, to its neighbors.

As it happens, this anniversary was preceded by a landmark Supreme Court decision. In the first days of his second term, fulfilling one of his key campaign promises, Donald Trump attempted to restrict, through an executive order (similar to a provisional measure in Brazil), birthright citizenship for the children of illegal immigrants.

The proposal not only pleased his political base — it was one of the central platforms that brought him back to the White House. Even so, Trump ran into an obstacle that no mature democracy should ever dispense with: the limits imposed by its own institutions.

Birthright citizenship, also adopted under Article 12 of the Brazilian Constitution, is enshrined in the 14th Amendment of the American Constitution, ratified in 1868. Among the justices who rejected the president’s claim were Amy Coney Barrett and Brett Kavanaugh, both appointed by Trump and prominent figures in the originalist school of constitutional interpretation. These were the same justices who, in 2022, voted to overturn Roe v. Wade and return to the states the authority to legislate on abortion.

To many observers accustomed to viewing courts as political arenas, this might seem like a contradiction. It isn’t.

The consistency lies precisely in the legal philosophy they profess. Originalism starts from the premise that judges should interpret the Constitution according to the meaning of its text, not shape it to fit the political preferences of the moment. In some cases, this produces rulings celebrated by conservatives. In others, it frustrates the very conservative president who appointed them.

Even with the political winds blowing in his favor, Barrett and Kavanaugh chose judicial restraint. They applied the same legal philosophy that, four years earlier, had led them to vote to overturn Roe v. Wade. They did not ride the wave of convenient judicial activism. Nor did they turn the Court into an extension of the current administration. They did something far rarer: they remained faithful to the method they had always claimed to defend, even when it meant handing a defeat to the president who nominated them.

Kavanaugh went further, stating in his opinion that if birthright citizenship policy is to be changed, the constitutional path for doing so is through Congress. The president may advocate for that change, persuade lawmakers, and seek to pass it through the legislative process. What he cannot do is try to rewrite the meaning of the Constitution single-handedly through executive order. It’s a distinction that may seem elementary, yet one that many democracies forget.

In the very week the country celebrates 250 years of independence from the British monarchy, its Supreme Court reminded the president that the American Republic still has no kings — not even when the occupant of the White House has justices he himself appointed sitting on the bench.

Perhaps that is the main lesson from the United States. Institutions don’t prove their independence when they thwart adversaries. They prove it when they thwart allies. It is no accident that the American Constitution remains the oldest written constitution still in force in the world. More than a legal text, it has become a landmark of institutional stability.

Presidents come and go. Majorities come and go. The composition of the Supreme Court changes. The true protagonist of American history was never a president, but the Constitution. The idea is simple, yet revolutionary: in a Republic, there are no kings.