“Shame on the military! And shame on you.” Over the past year and a half, family members and acquaintances have directed variations of this sentiment toward me. As a civilian employee within the Department of the Navy, I have occasionally been held personally accountable for military actions both at home and abroad undertaken by elected leaders and senior officials far removed from my own duties and authority. Regardless of the degree of my distance to those decisions, these conversations led me to revisit a widely held misconception: the idea that the military should serve as a sort of fail-safe against unpopular executive branch policies.
The United States constitutional system rests on a deliberate architecture of checks and balances designed to prevent the concentration of power. Yet public expectation often blurs the distinctions between constitutional design and norms of the military profession. During periods of intense controversy, Americans have often looked beyond Congress and the courts and placed their hopes in senior military leaders to restrain, oppose, or even block presidential decisions. Yet the Constitution assigns that responsibility elsewhere. Military leaders may influence policy — for example, through the advice they provide — but they are not constitutional veto players.
This essay examines several prominent twenty-first-century episodes of civil-military friction, not to determine who was right or wrong, but to illustrate how civilian control should function both in principle and in practice. These cases reveal recurring factors of policy disagreement, public perception, military expertise, and resignation considerations, while highlighting the true constitutional role of the military. In several instances, the military leaders’ views discussed here later appeared prescient, while in hindsight, civilian policy decisions seemed misguided; further fueling calls for the military to intervene in policymaking. Yet, as civil-military scholar Peter Feaver has observed, democratic governance rests in a fundamental part on the principle that civilians have a “right to be wrong.” However controversial a policy may be, military leaders may advise, persuade, and execute policy, but they do not possess the constitutional authority to determine it. The responsibility for checking contentious policies rests not with generals and admirals, but with elected officials, constitutional institutions, and ultimately the American people.

Checks, Balances, and the Military’s Role
The American constitutional system assigns responsibility for checking executive power primarily to Congress and the courts. Congress constrains presidents through legislation, appropriations, and oversight, while the judiciary reviews executive actions for consistency with the Constitution and other federal law. These mechanisms reflect the separation of powers envisioned by the framers and remain the formal means of restraining executive power.
Yet this constitutional design is frequently blurred in public discourse. During periods of heightened political controversy, some Americans reflexively or otherwise look beyond the constitutional structure and place their hopes in the military despite the Constitution assigning responsibility for checking executive power elsewhere. In a recent New York Times opinion essay, a former Secretary of the Air Force said as much, claiming inaction on the part of senior military leaders is a “cop-out” and is “putting our democracy at risk.” At a minimum, that sort of language blurs a firmly established line, which defines the scope of permissible actions by military leaders. While civil-military scholars continue to debate the ideal balance between civilian direction and military influence, there is broad and clear agreement on a central principle: military leaders provide professional advice (both public and private), but decision-making authority rests with elected civilian officials.
In this respect, the military resembles other established professions. Like physicians or attorneys, military leaders are expected to provide candid expert advice, even when it is unwelcome. Still, the ultimate decision belongs to the patient, client, or in this case, the elected civilian leader. That is the essence of civilian control.
To outsiders, this arrangement may create an enduring tension. Senior military officers are expected to provide candid professional advice, identify risks, and faithfully execute lawful decisions, yet the authority to decide ultimately rests elsewhere. Moments of disagreement, uncertainty, and strategic consequence have repeatedly placed senior military leaders in difficult circumstances. To demonstrate this tension, this essay examines seven 21st century cases in which civil-military friction was revealed in the public domain. Collectively, they illustrate how senior military leaders (all four-star flag officers) navigated these diverse situations and highlight both the resilience of civilian control and persistent popular misunderstandings surrounding the military’s constitutional role.

Theme 1. The Public Appearance of Dissent
General Stanley McChrystal, commander of United States and NATO forces in Afghanistan, in June 2010 resigned after a Rolling Stone article directly quoted him and members of his staff making disparaging remarks about senior Obama administration officials. The controversy did not stem from a refusal to obey orders or a formal disagreement over strategy. Rather, it created the perception that a senior military commander was publicly challenging and disrespecting civilian leaders.
President Barack Obama accepted McChrystal’s resignation, emphasizing that conduct that fell short of the norms governing civilian control of the military were unacceptable. Although widely viewed as a highly successful commander, McChrystal’s experience illustrates a central feature of American civil-military relations: influence depends not only on professional expertise and operational success, but on the trust and confidence between military and elected civilian leaders.
Theme 2. The Limits of Public Advice
When senior military leaders are called before Congress, they serve an important constitutional purpose by informing legislators and the public about military options, risks, and strategic-level implications. Although military leaders possess unique expertise and provide advice and influence through public testimony, their role in informing policy debates should not be conflated with civilian policymaking authority. Two prominent examples show this distinction.
In February 2003, Army Chief of Staff General Eric Shinseki testified before the Senate Armed Services Committee that postwar Iraq would require “something on the order of several hundred thousand soldiers” to stabilize and secure the country. His assessment differed sharply from the assumptions of senior Bush administration officials and drew public criticism from civilian leaders in the Pentagon. Although many later viewed Shinseki’s estimate as prescient as postwar reconstruction turned into an insurgency, Shinseki’s testimony did not alter administration policy and likely contributed to an unceremonious end to a distinguished military career.
A decade later, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff General Martin Dempsey offered similarly candid testimony regarding proposals to establish a no-fly zone in Syria and other military options under consideration by the Obama administration. Some observers argued that Dempsey’s public assessments of the costs and risks of intervention became highly influential in the Syria debate, reinforcing the administration’s reluctance to pursue more aggressive military options such as a no-fly zone. Debate continues over the wisdom of the administration’s decisions, as inaction was followed by the rise of ISIS. Yet even if Dempsey’s advice influenced the administration’s thinking, the decision ultimately remained President Obama’s.
Taken together, the experiences of Shinseki and Dempsey demonstrate that public military advice, no matter how wise, prescient, or influential, is not policymaking authority. In both cases, the officers’ role was to inform policy, not determine it. They offered their candid assessments in response to congressional inquiry, a constitutionally appropriate setting for public military advice. Whether either executive decision proved wise is inconsequential. The constitutional process functioned as designed.
Theme 3. The Challenge of Public Disagreement
As the McChrystal case demonstrates, civil-military tensions do not arise solely from formal acts of dissent. Such tensions often arise when senior military leaders become publicly associated with views perceived to diverge from administration policy, shifting attention from the substance of military advice toward the perception of disagreement.
Admiral William Fallon, commander of U.S. Central Command, in March of 2008 became associated with military opposition to a potential conflict with Iran after an Esquire article portrayed him as an influential internal voice against military action. The article highlighted Fallon’s public remarks criticizing how the “constant drumbeat of conflict is not helpful and not useful.” While private disagreement between military and civilian leaders is a normal part of policymaking, the article created a perception that a senior combatant commander was publicly dissenting from potential administration policy. Fallon retired shortly thereafter as this narrative had become a distraction.
Several years later, Admiral Harry Harris, commander of U.S. Pacific Command, emerged as one of the military’s most prominent voices concerning China’s island-building campaign in the South China Sea. Harris repeatedly warned that Beijing was constructing a “Great Wall of Sand” and raised concerns about the strategic implications of China’s actions. As tensions with China grew, reports suggested that civilian officials worried that public military commentary could complicate broader diplomatic efforts. To diffuse the situation, Harris subsequently clarified that his role was to provide advice privately, noting that such counsel “wouldn’t be worth much if it weren’t private,” and avoided becoming a public symbol of military opposition to civilian policy.
The experiences of Fallon and Harris demonstrate that perceived policy disagreement presents distinct challenges for senior military leaders. Both became publicly associated with positions that appeared to diverge from prevailing civilian approaches. While Fallon ultimately retired early amid perceptions of a policy disconnect, by emphasizing the importance of keeping disagreements within the internal policymaking process, Harris continued to serve. In both cases, the underlying lesson is that candid disagreement in private is both expected and essential. In contrast, public dissent, or even the perception of public dissent undermines civilian control.
Theme 4. The Decision to Stay or Leave
In challenging circumstances, especially when personal convictions and professional obligations conflict, one of the most consequential decisions a senior military leader faces is whether to resign or stay in office. Resignation can signal disagreement and may be considered a political act, but it also ends an officer’s ability to influence from within. Remaining preserves access, but it may require an officer to reconcile personal conscience with professional duty.
In October 2025, Admiral Alvin Holsey, commander of U.S. Southern Command, announced his retirement less than a year after assuming command. His departure occurred as USSOUTHCOM expanded its role in counternarcotics operations in Latin America. Public reporting cited unnamed officials who described tensions between Holsey and senior civilian leaders regarding the pace, aggressiveness, and legal basis of certain operations, leading some observers to speculate that policy disagreements contributed to his decision to retire. Because neither Holsey nor the Department of Defense publicly identified the reasons for his departure, conclusions about his motivations remain speculative.
In the final months of President Donald Trump’s first term, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff General Mark Milley found himself at the center of several civil-military controversies. After appearing alongside President Trump during the June 2020 Lafayette Square controversy, Milley later acknowledged that his participation had created the perception of military involvement in domestic politics and considered resignation, even reportedly drafting multiple versions of his resignation letter. Instead, he remained in office during what became a memorable political transition, preserving his ability to advise and influence while accepting criticism from multiple directions.
Taken together, the experiences of Holsey and Milley demonstrate that decisions about whether to stay or leave present senior military leaders with profound ethical and professional dilemmas. Both confronted circumstances in which personal convictions and professional responsibilities appeared to be in tension. Yet neither officer publicly challenged civilian authority, underscoring that the norms of civil-military relations require even profound disagreement to remain within the policymaking process rather than become public dissent.
A caveat to lessons drawn from both military leaders’ experience is warranted. Holsey’s objections may have also been, in significant part, about the lawfulness of the military operations (we, as a public, don’t know). If so, that decision exceeds the scope of the present analysis of how policy disagreements are handled. For present purposes, what matters is that any such disagreement was managed through private channels rather than public contestation. As for Milley, during the 2020 presidential transition, he made public remarks at the opening of the Army National Museum, in which he stated, “We do not take an oath to a king or queen, a tyrant or dictator. … We take an oath to the Constitution.” While some contemporaneous commentary interpreted the statement as an implicit reference to President Trump, the remarks themselves reaffirmed a foundational principle of American civil-military relations: the military’s oath is to the Constitution rather than to any individual officeholder.
Influence Without Authority
Although these cases differ substantially in context and outcome, they exhibit a consistent reality about the role of senior military leaders in the U.S. constitutional democracy. Across each circumstance, the same underlying principle remained intact: military leaders may advise, persuade, and execute policy, but they do not possess the authority to determine it.
As we reconcile these lessons, we should not view the outcomes as evidence of military passivity or institutional weakness. Rather, they reflect professional norms that have long defined the American officer corps and the system of democratic governance. The norm is not silence, but candor in private and discipline in public. Within this framework, officers exercise professional judgment, provide candid advice, and navigate difficult ethical, political, and institutional tensions. In every case, their ultimate responsibility remained the same: to remain subordinate to lawful civilian authority.
For many Americans, this conclusion may be unsatisfying. Popular trust in the military often exceeds confidence in Congress, political parties, and other civilian institutions. And during periods of deep political frustration, it is tempting to view generals and admirals as guardians, or “the adults in the room,” capable of preventing controversial or misguided policy decisions. Yet the constitutional question is not whether military leaders are more enlightened, or even sometimes correct. The question is who decides. The cases examined here consistently point to the same answer: responsibility for policy decisions rests with elected civilian leaders.

Conclusions
The central lesson of these cases is clear. The military’s refusal to act as a political check is not a failure of the constitutional system. It shows the system is functioning as intended.
Indeed, Americans significantly frustrated by political dysfunction may want to look to generals and admirals as safeguards against perceived failures of political leadership or constitutional accountability. Yet doing so misunderstands both the military’s constitutional role and the principle of civilian control upon which American democracy rests. Calls for military leaders to “do more” imply something much more consequential than many realize. If active-duty officers are expected to block, overturn, or ignore decisions made by elected civilian leaders, this becomes more than just a constitutional check. It is military intervention in politics, rejection of the principle of civilian control, and, in blunt terms, it resembles a coup.
The American constitutional tradition has long rejected the notion that military leaders should determine policy. The ultimate guardians of the republic are not generals and admirals, but the constitutional institutions and citizens entrusted with that responsibility from the beginning: Congress, the courts, and the American people.




