In the first two years of the second Trump administration, the balance of power between the branches of American government has further shifted in favor of the executive. Republican leaders in Congress have thus far been unwilling to challenge President Donald Trump in any meaningful way.
Unlike in earlier years, when sinking presidential approval numbers prompted candidates on the campaign trail to keep their distance, such separation is now largely absent, as Trump continues to maintain a strong hold over the Republican Party’s base. As the primaries this spring and summer showed, intraparty opposition within the party is, with a handful of exceptions, possible only at the cost of one’s own political career.
But Congressional passivity may end after the midterm elections of November 3, or rather after the next Congress is sworn in in January 2027. In the midterms, in which all 435 members of the House of Representatives and 33 of the 100 senators are on the ballot, current polling favors the Democrats to take the majority at least in the House.
That the president’s party loses seats in midterm elections is historically the rule. American voters typically prove impatient with the very leaders they installed two years earlier. It is hardly surprising, then, that in 18 of the past 20 midterms the incumbent president’s party has suffered losses in the House, at times dramatic ones. Given the already razor-thin Republican majority, currently 219 to 212, even a relatively modest gain would suffice for the Democrats to take over the chamber.
In the Senate, losses for the president’s party have historically been smaller. Because of the staggered election cycle, in which only a third of senators must run for a new six-year term, the question of which seats are up in which states matters as much as the general political mood in the country. Even so, the president’s party has recorded Senate losses in most midterms as well.
Changing Majorities?
These structural factors, together with growing dissatisfaction among many Americans with the president’s conduct in office, make a change of majority in at least one chamber the most likely scenario. But the consequences and significance of that outcome cannot be measured in the number of seats won and lost alone.
Whether Congress can return as an institutional counterweight actually depends on two further factors. The first is how the result is interpreted by the public, and thus its political signaling effect: What does the outcome say about the mood of the country, the condition of American democracy, and the balance of power heading into the 2028 presidential election?
The second factor is new and would not have registered a few years ago. It concerns, on the one hand, whether the result will be accepted by all political forces at all, and on the other, whether a possible Democratic majority in Congress would have the means to give real effect to institutional self-assertion.
What, then, would the possible outcomes mean for the restoration of an institutional counterweight? As things stand, an unambiguous Republican victory, in which the party maintains control of both chambers, is, at the time of writing, the least likely scenario. Yet through the aggressive redrawing of many House districts, facilitated in part by decisions of the Supreme Court, the party has secured itself a buffer.
Should Republicans hold both chambers of Congress, the signaling effect would be enormous. Such a historical anomaly would considerably strengthen the president’s position and demoralize the opposition. For international observers, such a result would go a long way toward answering the question of Trumpism’s durability.
A Split Outcome
In the quite plausible event of a split outcome, with Democrats taking the House while remaining in the minority in the Senate, the analysis becomes more complicated. This scenario would parallel the 2018 midterms during the first Trump administration, in which Democrats gained 40 seats and the House majority but lost two Senate seats owing to an unfavorable electoral map that year.
Such a result would, first of all, mean the end of any remaining Republican legislative agenda. Driven by pressure from their base to fight Trump, and mindful of their own prospects in 2028, Democrats would show little appetite for cooperation. This also means that the odds of conflict over the passage of the annual budget, and thus of another government shutdown, would rise significantly.
The main focus of Democratic members, however, would be on Congress’s watchdog function. With the majority, Democrats would take over the House committee chairmanships and regain the instruments of legislative oversight: They could convene hearings, demand documents from departments and agencies, and question witnesses under oath.
However, as Congress largely lacks its own mechanisms for pursuing criminal prosecutions arising from any possible investigations, the executive would feel the consequences of such oversight work mainly indirectly, through its effect on public discourse. Only a fresh impeachment, which parts of the base would demand in the event of a Democratic House majority, would have direct consequences if it succeeded.
In a divided Congress, however, such an effort would quickly founder in a Republican-led Senate. In holding the Senate, Republicans would also retain other important levers of power, first among them the Senate’s role in confirming federal judges and cabinet members. A Republican Senate majority would allow Trump to further shape the composition of the Supreme Court, and of the other federal courts he already influenced decisively in his first term, far into the future, locking in at least the current 6–3 conservative majority for years or even decades.
Depending on the result, a divided Congress might also fail to deliver the signal the opposition is hoping for. Although, or perhaps precisely because, such an outcome appears likely given the structural factors described above, its significance could be misread in the public reaction.
Comparisons between this year’s seat gains and earlier wave elections such as 2006 and 2018 might at first glance look disappointing, because the same shift in votes would today yield fewer seats given the already narrow gap between the parties. This year’s drastic redistricting has further reduced the number of genuinely competitive seats. Beyond that, holding on to a majority in either chamber would certainly be trumpeted loudly by the president and his supporters as proof of their own strength. Should the Democrats fail to win the informational battle over such a complex result, an incomplete media narrative could take hold quickly.
A Democratic Clean Sweep
The picture would be considerably clearer if the Democrats, against current expectations, were to capture both chambers. The symbolic force of such an outcome would be immense, particularly since the Democrats, in that case, would have won states regarded by now as Republican strongholds, such as Texas, Ohio, Alaska, Iowa, or would have unseated long-serving senators such as Susan Collins of Maine. Because a change in Senate control was until recently considered barely imaginable, it would be regarded as an unmistakable repudiation of Donald Trump and would likely shape how Republican candidates position themselves for the 2028 presidential race.
The immediate effects on Washington politics would also be palpable. As with a divided Congress, the political and legislative deadlock between executive and legislature would deepen, now extending to fights over judicial and cabinet appointments. Although it would break with historical norms, it cannot be ruled out that some of the older conservative Supreme Court justices would decide to retire for strategic reasons in the window between the election and the seating of the new Congress in early January 2027, allowing a still Republican-controlled Senate to rejuvenate and thus extend the conservative majority on the court.
A Potential Constitutional Crisis
The election result itself, however, is only part of the answer to the question of what the midterms will mean. Particularly after the events that followed the 2020 presidential election, one must ask whether all political forces will accept the outcome. In recent months the president and much of the conservative information and media ecosystem have laid the groundwork, so that any future claims of supposed electoral fraud will find fertile soil, at least in parts of the American public. The chances that such efforts could precipitate a genuine constitutional crisis would be highest in the event of a narrow result. A clear Democratic victory, by contrast, would make it harder for the president’s narrative to gain traction. A Republican success would render the question moot.
The second question mark concerns the potency of the tools Congress possesses to stand up to the president. As became clear after the 2018 midterms, the administration is likely to refuse cooperation with Congressional investigations across the board. Even then, subpoenas were fought in court or simply ignored, and requested documents were submitted partially or not at all. In his second term, Trump has tightened his control over the executive branch still further, so even less accommodation could be expected from that quarter. Congress itself has few direct means of enforcing its own claims to power and would have to rely largely on the courts and on public pressure. Some “must-pass” pieces of legislation, such as (eventually) a federal budget or the regularly required raising of the US debt ceiling, may grant Democrats some leverage to compel cooperation, should they have the political will and stamina to fully utilize these bargaining chips.
Here lies the heart of the problem, and a structural weakness that the founders of the American government system could hardly have foreseen or resolved. A system of institutional counterweights that check and balance one another, driven by their own ambition, presupposes two things: the will to exercise that institutional function, and the submission of all participants to a set of recognized rules.
Ultimately, the functioning of the US system of government and the balance among its institutions rest not on the constitutional text alone, but on the persistence of a basic social and political consensus: the recognition of shared norms and customs, in short, a common political culture.
The French political philosopher Alexis de Tocqueville attributed what he saw as the extraordinary stability of democracy in America to the broad diffusion of precisely this political culture, which he called mœurs. James Madison, the “father” of the American constitution, was likewise certain that merely codifying the separation of powers in the Constitution, erecting what he called "parchment barriers," would not suffice to withstand the perennial hunger for power.
The institutional balance of American democracy does not sustain itself. Whether Congress can recover its role as an institutional counterweight will therefore be decided not only by a possible change in Congressional majorities, but by how the result is publicly interpreted, and ultimately by whether the consensus that power accepts limits is still broad enough. Depending on how the midterms turn out, that very question could face one of its sternest tests yet.
Changes to US Foreign Policy?
As noted, Congress has few direct instruments, short of denying funding and shutting down parts of the government, to compel a president to change his policies. This also holds true in the foreign policy realm. There are few avenues for Congress to pursue any proactive foreign policy goals of its own, so that the institutional focus would largely be limited to attempts at countering the president’s agenda.
A potential Democratic majority in Congress could, for example, pass legislation to rein in Trump’s tariff authority. However, the president retains the power to veto legislation. At this point, it seems unimaginable that Republicans in Congress would provide the necessary votes to reach the required two-thirds majority to override the president’s objection.
Such actions would thus largely be symbolic and a tool of public signaling, aiming to further increase the salience of unpopular presidential foreign policy actions and to raise the political costs for Republicans. Seizing the majority in one or two chambers of Congress would provide Democrats with additional tools to do so, given that they would control the Congressional calendar and hearing schedule.
How such efforts would affect US public opinion and American politics is difficult to predict since much of the country’s attention will remain on domestic issues. European and other international observers should therefore temper their expectations. President Trump has thus far demonstrated little desire to moderate in the face of Democratic pushback and his tight hold on the Republican base makes it difficult for other Republicans, even those seeking to run for president in 2028, to openly distance themselves from Trump’s policies. As possible Republican contenders weigh their chances, however, subtle positioning maneuvers could intensify behind the scenes.
Paradoxically, a Democratic takeover of Congress and the subsequent end to his legislative agenda in addition to the fact that Trump will face his last two years in office, could also increase his desire to leave an even greater mark on foreign policy, an area that historically affords presidents wide latitude. As the president continues to think of his legacy, he could well be inclined to see the international arena as one where even bolder, unconventional, or surprising moves could deliver the greatest reward.
Peter Sparding is senior vice president and director of policy at the Center for the Study of the Presidency and Congress (CSPC) in Washington, DC. His latest book is No Better Friend? The United States and Germany since 1945 (2025).
