EDITORIAL: Trump Sacrifices U.S. Intelligence on the Altar of Legislative Blackmail

A global surveillance tool unprecedented in history

Section 702 of the FISA Act authorizes the CIA, the NSA, and the FBI to collect communications from foreign targets located abroad without a prior court order. Since its adoption in 2008, it has never expired. It is central to the fight against terrorism, cybercrime, and international drug trafficking, and it feeds into the president’s daily briefings. It enables the surveillance of communications from Russia, China, Iran, and North Korea—the four major hostile powers that, every day, seek to erode the West’s strategic superiority.

The law expired at midnight on Friday, June 13, 2026—the first time in eighteen years. The House had rejected an extension by a vote of 198 to 218, with 19 Republicans voting against it alongside the Democrats. The expiration came at the very moment the United States was hosting the World Cup and preparing for the 250th anniversary celebrations of American independence—two major terrorist targets, according to intelligence agencies. The expiration did not immediately halt operational surveillance, as FISA court authorizations remained valid through March 2027, but it created a gaping legal uncertainty that could pave the way for legal challenges.

The Ripple Effects of a Historic Expiration

The expiration of Section 702 was not a purely symbolic event. It created concrete complications for intelligence-gathering agencies. New targeting directives, new certifications for surveillance programs, and new requests for data access from communications providers such as Google or Verizon—all of these entered a zone of legal uncertainty that the United States’ adversaries could potentially exploit through legal challenges.

Furthermore, the expiration of Section 702 sent a political signal to U.S. intelligence partners—the members of the Five Eyes alliance, notably the United Kingdom, Canada, Australia, and New Zealand—regarding the reliability of the legal framework governing intelligence sharing. These partnerships are based on mutual trust in each nation’s legal systems. Undermining the legal foundation of U.S. surveillance also undermines these alliances.

I remember covering the Patriot Act reauthorization hearings in 2006. Back then, no one was playing games with this. No one was holding the country’s surveillance capabilities hostage to force a vote on another bill. Section 702 expired for the first time in its history because of a political dispute over the Director of National Intelligence. This isn’t a nuance—it’s a break with doctrine.

A controversial election bill stalled in the Senate

The Save America Act—also known as the SAVE Act—is the centerpiece of Trump’s legislative agenda on election reform. Passed by the House in February 2026, it requires voters to provide documentary proof of citizenship to register to vote and mandates that states submit their voter rolls to the Department of Homeland Security for verification. It also provides that election officials can be held legally liable in the event of improper registration.

The problem: the Save America Act died in the Senate. Not because of the Democrats alone—four Republican senators had joined the Democrats to block its inclusion in a DHS funding bill in June 2026. The 60-vote threshold needed to overcome the filibuster was never reached. Despite this, Trump has made the passage of the Save America Act a precondition for renewing FISA. He wrote in his June 17 Truth Social post that he would add “a little extra intrigue” by refusing any renewal of Section 702 without the prior passage of the Save America Act. The Progressive Policy Institute called this “pure political gamesmanship with national security at stake.”

A bill that lacks the votes to pass

Trump’s logic was flawed in two ways. Not only was he making national security contingent on the passage of a controversial electoral reform bill, but that reform was, in fact, stalled in the Senate. Four Republicans had voted with the Democrats to block it in a previous vote. Majority Leader John Thune himself had publicly acknowledged that the votes were not there to reach the 60 required for fast-track procedure.

Demanding the passage of a bill that lacks the necessary votes as a precondition for national security is to impose a condition that is structurally impossible to meet—which amounts to holding national security hostage indefinitely. Either Trump did not understand Senate arithmetic, or he simply did not care. Both scenarios are equally troubling for a power that claims to be the guardian of the liberal international order.

“A little extra intrigue.” I quote the man himself. That’s how Donald Trump describes tying the renewal of the country’s most powerful counterterrorism surveillance tool to an election law that doesn’t have the votes to pass. “A little intrigue.” Meanwhile, the potential targets of Section 702—Russian agents, Chinese hackers, Iranian networks—are calmly watching this farce unfold from their capitals.

A Director of National Intelligence Without Security Clearance

Bill Pulte, 38, heads the Federal Housing Finance Agency—the regulatory agency that oversees Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac. He has no background in intelligence. According to information confirmed prior to his appointment, he did not even have security clearance allowing him to access classified information—a requirement considered essential for leading the community of 18 U.S. intelligence agencies. In December 2025, the Government Accountability Office launched an investigation to determine whether Pulte had illegally accessed confidential financial data belonging to Trump’s political opponents.

Since taking office on June 19, 2026, Representatives Jim Himes and Mark Warner have sent him a formal letter prohibiting him from carrying out politically motivated staff cuts or declassifications before a permanent director is confirmed. The fact that he is simultaneously director of the FHFA and acting director of national intelligence—Trump himself having specified that he would hold both positions—leaves intelligence professionals perplexed. The CIA, the NSA, the FBI, and the fourteen other agencies are now overseen by a man whose specialty is subsidized real estate.

A dual role that defies institutional logic

Trump had specified, in his June 17 statement, that Pulte would retain his position as director of the Federal Housing Finance Agency while serving as acting Director of National Intelligence. No intelligence official found this decision reasonable. The position of Director of National Intelligence is supposed to be a full-time job—overseeing 18 separate agencies, participating in daily presidential briefings, and managing relations with foreign intelligence allies.

The logic behind holding two positions simultaneously for such a strategic role left intelligence professionals speechless. A man who, according to confirmed reports, had not yet obtained the necessary security clearances at the time of his appointment, would now have access to America’s most sensitive secrets—all while continuing to manage federal mortgage loans. The Government Accountability Office had already opened an investigation into his potentially improper access to confidential financial data in December 2025.

I am not seeking to humiliate Pulte personally. But there is something deeply troubling about the fact that a man who was overseeing mortgage loans just last week now has access to the “crown jewels” of U.S. intelligence—to borrow the analysts’ phrase. Human networks, sources, methods—all of it in the hands of a novice. And meanwhile, Vladimir Putin is smiling.

Tom Cotton, John Thune, and Denial in Stages

The reaction of Republicans in the Senate was revealing. Senator Tom Cotton, despite being one of Trump’s most reliable allies on national security issues, initially resisted publicly: Clayton’s hearing would take place, he said, unless the president personally ordered Clayton not to appear. Trump did exactly that. Cotton capitulated, noting “with regret” that the president had issued that directive. Senate Majority Leader John Thune merely stated that the Senate would take the situation “day by day.”

This day-to-day approach is not prudence—it is constitutional impotence. The U.S. Constitution grants the Senate a role of “advice and consent” in nominations. What Trump did on June 17, by ordering his own nominee to boycott the hearing, was to bypass this constitutional mechanism. The Senate cannot confirm a nominee who does not appear. And a president who uses his nominations as a bargaining chip in legislative negotiations violates the spirit of the separation of powers, even if he is technically operating in a legal gray area. Senator Lindsey Graham had to publicly plead with Trump to allow Clayton to testify—something unthinkable in any other administration.

A crisis within a crisis: the succession to the committee chairmanship

Tom Cotton’s reaction deserves closer analysis. This Arkansas senator, a former Army officer who served in Iraq and Afghanistan, is not someone who backs down easily on national security issues. His initial resistance—announcing that the hearing would proceed unless Trump directed otherwise—was a courageous stand in the Republican political landscape of 2026.

The fact that he ultimately capitulated, merely noting that the situation was “regrettable,” illustrates just how far presidential control has extended over Republican members of the Senate. This capitulation is not personal—it reflects a systemic dynamic in which Republican elected officials have collectively chosen not to openly confront Trump even when his decisions contradict their own convictions on national security.

I reread Article II of the U.S. Constitution. The president appoints with the advice and consent of the Senate. Not: the president appoints, then sabotages, then uses it as leverage. What Trump did on June 17 is not pragmatism. It is a deliberate perversion of the confirmation process. And the lack of any outright Republican revolt—despite Cotton’s grumbling—says it all about the state of that party.

Defend Section 702 or Stand Up to Pulte: The Impossible Choice

Democrats played a significant role in this crisis. Their strategy was to block the renewal of FISA as long as Pulte remained in place, hoping to force Trump to back down on his nomination. The tactic made sense—Pulte posed a real threat of political manipulation of intelligence. But it led to the expiration of Section 702, which several Democratic senators had themselves described as “unacceptable” in earlier statements. Chuck Schumer had said that allowing Section 702 to expire would be “unacceptable” for national security. Yet he let it happen anyway.

The result of this sequence of events is that two political parties, for different but equally irresponsible reasons in their own ways, allowed the country’s most important surveillance tool to expire. The Democrats gambled with national security to block an abusive nomination. Trump used the nomination to extort a legislative vote. And in this game of political maneuvering, the only certain losers are Americans, whose communications with foreign countries are now potentially less protected, and the intelligence agencies, which are now operating in a legal gray area.

The Shared Responsibility of a Failing Political Class

Beyond the calculation of partisan responsibilities, this crisis reveals a deeper structural problem: U.S. constitutional mechanisms assume a minimum level of good faith on the part of the actors involved. Section 702 is a bipartisan tool—every president since George W. Bush has used and defended it. The confirmation process is designed to balance the branches of government, not to be turned into an instrument of coercion.

When both parties simultaneously use institutional tools as political weapons—the Democrats by withholding their vote on the FISA bill, Trump by blocking his own nomination—the result is not a balance of power, but institutional paralysis. And this paralysis is not confined to Washington: it spreads to allies, to adversaries, to all those who observe and calibrate their behavior based on the consistency of American power.

Let’s be completely honest: I understand the Democrats’ reasoning. Pulte as Director of National Intelligence is an aberration. The resistance was legitimate in principle. But allowing Section 702 to expire as a means of exerting pressure—at a time when the United States is hosting the World Cup and celebrating its 250th anniversary—was a high-risk decision. Sometimes, a policy that is substantively correct leads to catastrophic consequences in practice. This is one of those moments.

A legal vacuum at the worst possible time

The United States was set to host the 2026 World Cup on its soil just as Section 702 was set to expire. U.S. intelligence agencies had identified major sporting events and the celebrations marking the 250th anniversary of American independence as high-risk targets for terrorism. The tool used to monitor communications from foreign terrorist networks, Russian infiltrators, Iranian cells, and North Korean cyber operators had just lost its legal basis.

The intelligence community was quick to reassure the public: the FISA court certifications approved in March 2026 remained valid through March 2027, and ongoing surveillance operations were not immediately halted. But legal experts are unequivocal: any new certification or new targeting decision made after June 13 fell into a zone of legal uncertainty that could be challenged in court. For days, the world’s most powerful country operated its intelligence services amid a historic legal limbo—because a president had decided that a vote on the identity of voters was more urgent than collective security.

The World Cup and America250: A Target in the Blind Spot

Intelligence agencies had identified the two major events of the summer of 2026 as priority terrorist targets. The 2026 World Cup, co-hosted by the United States, Canada, and Mexico, represented the largest concentration of foreigners on U.S. soil in decades—a unique logistical opportunity for actors seeking to strike a symbolic blow against the West. The 250th anniversary celebrations added an additional symbolic dimension.

Section 702 was precisely the tool designed to monitor the communications of foreign cells potentially involved in planning attacks on U.S. soil. Its legal expiration—even partial—created uncertainty regarding new targeting operations. Several former intelligence directors had publicly expressed their concern. These warnings were ignored in the name of a vote on an election bill.

I’m not being alarmist. I read the public security briefs; I follow the statements from agency directors. And I know that when intelligence experts say “high risk,” they choose their words carefully. The fact that the United States made it through this period without any major incidents does not validate Trump’s decision—it was as much a matter of luck as it was of competence. Playing Russian roulette with national security in the hope that it will work out is not governance. It’s a game of chance.

When an Appointment Becomes a Tool of Legislative Coercion

What happened on June 17, 2026, was not simply an error in judgment or a presidential outburst. It is the establishment of a deeply dangerous institutional precedent. If a president can use his own appointments—to the most sensitive positions in the government—as bargaining chips to force through legislation he cannot get passed normally, then the confirmation process loses all meaning. The Senate no longer serves as a deliberative body; it becomes a partner in forced negotiations.

In Clayton’s case, the dynamics are particularly twisted: Trump wanted McDonald confirmed as U.S. attorney before Clayton was confirmed as director of national intelligence. McDonald is one of the president’s personal lawyers. In other words, Trump was making the appointment of his Director of National Intelligence contingent on the confirmation of a man from his inner circle to the position of U.S. Attorney for Manhattan—one of the most powerful jurisdictions in the country, the one that has handled so many cases related to his own business dealings. The institutional conflict of interest is staggering.

McDonald, Clayton, and the Vertical Conflict of Interest

The condition set by Trump—confirming Jamie McDonald as Manhattan’s U.S. attorney before authorizing Clayton’s hearing—deserves special attention. McDonald is one of the president’s personal attorneys. The Southern District of New York is the federal jurisdiction that has most frequently been involved in investigations into Trump’s business and political activities over the years.

By making the appointment of his director of national intelligence contingent on first installing his own lawyer at the head of the office that oversees Manhattan, Trump has created a chain of institutional protection whose logic is difficult to describe as anything other than a systemic conflict of interest. Using national security as a bargaining chip to place a loyal ally in a sensitive position—this type of maneuver has no recent parallel in American constitutional history.

I could mention Richard Nixon, who at least formally respected the appointment process. I could mention George W. Bush, who certainly expanded executive powers after 9/11, but within the framework of a coherent national security strategy. What Trump is doing here is different: he is using national security as leverage against his own majority to consolidate his clan’s control over key positions. This is a form of institutional capture that I don’t see being called out enough for what it is.

American Weakness Visible from the Kremlin

Every day of institutional turmoil in Washington is a windfall for Vladimir Putin. An acting director of intelligence without authorization, an expired surveillance law, a confirmation process derailed by the president himself—all of this sends a signal of strategic weakness to adversaries who are constantly analyzing the coherence of American power. Russia, China, Iran, and North Korea do not need spectacular cyberattacks to capitalize on the moment: they observe, they map out vulnerabilities, and they adjust their operations accordingly.

For Ukraine in particular, U.S. institutional stability is not an abstraction. Military support, intelligence sharing, and the continuity of commitments—all of this depends on a U.S. executive branch capable of functioning coherently. Every disruption in the U.S. intelligence chain of command indirectly undermines Ukraine’s ability to anticipate Russian moves, adapt its defense, and hold its ground. Volodymyr Zelensky and his generals need a reliable partner in Washington, not a political theater where the president torpedoes his own nominations to force a vote.

Intelligence as the Backbone of Western Solidarity

Intelligence sharing is one of the least visible yet most critical pillars of Western solidarity in the face of common threats. The United States shares critical information with its allies on Russian military movements, Iranian covert operations, Chinese naval maneuvers in the South China Sea, and North Korea’s potentially offensive preparations.

This cooperative framework relies on stable institutions and trusted leaders at their helm. When the head of U.S. intelligence is a novice without security clearance, when the law governing surveillance expires, and when the appointment process is used as a political tool—all of this erodes allies’ confidence in the reliability of the U.S. partner. Ukraine, in particular, depends on this intelligence cooperation to anticipate Russian operations, protect its positions, and maintain pressure on Moscow.

I often think of those men and women in the trenches of eastern Ukraine who are counting on American support. Not because America is perfect—it isn’t—but because it still represents the best bulwark against the expansion of authoritarian regimes that respect nothing. When Washington paralyzes itself, it is these soldiers who pay the price down the road. These aren’t metaphors. This is applied geopolitics.

The paradox of a president who claims to be strong but undermines his own tools

We must be honest about what Trump has accomplished—and what he is simultaneously destroying. On certain issues, Trump’s approach has produced results: economic pressure on China has forced trade rebalancing, and his firm stance toward Iran helped secure the ceasefire in the spring of 2026. This is no small matter. A credible West needs an American center of gravity that speaks out strongly and keeps its strategic promises.

But this same administration, which prides itself on standing firm against external adversaries, has just spent several weeks undermining its own intelligence architecture. Section 702 has expired. The acting director of intelligence lacks security clearance. The permanent appointment has been put on hold in favor of negotiations over an electoral reform bill. The tools used to monitor Russian networks, track Iranian communications, and detect Chinese cyberattacks—these tools have been weakened in the name of an internal political power struggle. This is the fundamental contradiction of this administration: a projection of strength abroad and a methodical erosion of institutions at home.

The Asymmetry Between Rhetoric of Strength and Institutional Reality

There is something deeply inconsistent about the stance of an administration that claims to place military and strategic strength at the heart of its foreign policy, while allowing the legal tools that make that strength possible to lapse. Electronic surveillance, human intelligence, interagency coordination—all of this depends on a stable legal framework and competent leaders at every level.

By deliberately weakening this institutional infrastructure for domestic political reasons, Trump is creating exactly the kind of vulnerability that adversaries like Russia, China, and Iran seek to exploit. True strength lies not only in the size of our armed forces—it lies in the coherence of the institutions that support them, the robustness of our intelligence-gathering systems, and the credibility of the commitments we make to our allies.

Trump is a necessary evil—I’ve said it before, and I still believe it in certain respects. But “necessary” does not mean “unlimited.” The line I draw, personally, is that of national security. Criticizing allies, snubbing NATO, imposing reckless tariffs—all of that is up for debate. But letting Section 702 expire to force an election? Blocking his own Director of National Intelligence to appoint his Manhattan attorney as U.S. Attorney? That’s no longer a matter of political style. That’s a matter of wrongdoing.

The Institute for Progressive Politics and the Voices of Warning

The reactions from organizations monitoring American democracy were unequivocal. The Institute for Progressive Politics issued a scathing statement as early as June 17: “This is nothing more than pure political gamesmanship with national security at stake,” wrote Danielle Steitz, director of national security policy. She emphasized that making the renewal of FISA contingent on the passage of the Save America Act amounted to jeopardizing operations against terrorism, cyberattacks, and drug trafficking—vital areas—in order to push through electoral reform that Trump had failed to pass on his own.

The Brennan Center for Justice, the Electronic Frontier Foundation, and dozens of intelligence experts have sounded the same alarm. Democratic Representative Jason Crow, a member of the House Intelligence Committee, stated bluntly on June 22: “Americans are in danger” with Pulte at the helm. These voices are not partisan in nature—they are institutional. These are the voices that sound the alarm when democratic safeguards are eroded, regardless of the political affiliation of those eroding them.

A Broken Tradition of Bipartisanship on National Security

Since the 1940s, U.S. national security policy has always been based on a minimal bipartisan consensus: regardless of which administration was in power, certain institutions—the CIA, the NSA, and the FBI in its counterintelligence capacity—operated on the basis of stable rules, competent appointments, and robust legal protections. Section 702 was the direct heir to this tradition.

The week of June 17, 2026, shattered that consensus in a dramatic fashion. A Republican president used an intelligence chief appointment as a tool of legislative coercion, allowing a bipartisan surveillance tool to expire for the first time in its history. National security analysts across the spectrum used an unusual word to describe the situation: “unprecedented.” That word should never apply to the management of national security in a mature democracy.

I note that national security think tanks—which are neither left-wing nor right-wing in their culture—have, almost unanimously, used the word “danger” to describe the situation. This isn’t partisan rhetoric. These are analysts who compare situations, who have seen real crises, who assess risks using rigorous tools. When these people use the word “danger,” I believe them.

Congress Returns and the Race Against Time

The House of Representatives was scheduled to reconvene in Washington on June 23, 2026, following its recess. The legislative priority was twofold: to renew Section 702 of the FISA and to resume the confirmation process for Jay Clayton. But Trump had set a third condition—the passage of the Save America Act—which even his own Republican senators deemed unrealistic without the 60 votes needed to break the filibuster. Four Republican senators had already voted against the bill in a previous vote.

The possible scenarios boil down to a few options. Either Trump backs down on the Save America Act and accepts a limited deal on FISA and Clayton’s confirmation. Or the stalemate drags on, leaving Pulte at the helm of U.S. intelligence for additional weeks or months. Or a bipartisan agreement emerges without the president’s approval—an unlikely but not impossible scenario given the mounting pressure. In any case, the institutional damage has already been done. The precedent has been set. A U.S. president has proven that he can, without immediate consequences, use national security as leverage in legislative negotiations.

The political lesson to take away ahead of the 2026 midterms

The midterm elections are approaching. The Republicans are seeking to retain their majority in Congress; the Democrats hope to regain control. Against this backdrop, the Clayton/FISA/Pulte crisis will become a central issue in the electoral debate. The Democrats will have an easy time denouncing the exploitation of national security. The Republicans will try to turn the argument around by accusing the Democrats of having blocked FISA in the first place.

But beyond partisan strategies, there is a fundamental question that American voters will have to decide: what kind of governance are they willing to accept? A form of governance that uses national security as a bargaining chip for secondary legislative goals? Or a form of governance that upholds institutional red lines—areas where political brinkmanship has no place, regardless of the legitimacy of the objectives being pursued elsewhere?

I would like to conclude this analysis with a moment of candor about my own unease. I do not know how this crisis will be resolved—and I am wary of anyone who claims to know. What I do know is that the precedent set on June 17, 2026, will be cited in American constitutional law courses for decades to come. People will say: This was the day a president used national security as a bargaining chip. And on that day, neither Democrats nor Republicans were able to respond with the dignity the situation demanded. That, too, must be stated clearly.

When American Power Hurts Itself

The events that unfolded between June 11 and 23, 2026, are a textbook example of the abuses that can result from the instrumental use of executive power. A president who appoints a qualified expert, then blocks his own appointment to force a legislative vote—in the process sacrificing the continuity of national surveillance and the principle of separation of powers—is not engaging in politics. It is institutional coercion. And in a context where Russia continues its war of attrition against Ukraine, where China is constantly testing the limits of Western consensus, and where Iran is seeking to circumvent its ceasefire commitments, the West cannot afford to have a weakened center.

The Price of Compromise in the Face of Autocratization

History will judge the week of June 17, 2026, as a moment when American institutions held firm—formally—but when their spirit was severely undermined. Tom Cotton finally gave in. John Thune took things day by day. Congress watched Section 702 expire. And meanwhile, Bill Pulte—director of federal housing by day, director of national intelligence by night—took office at the helm of the 18 agencies tasked with protecting the world’s most powerful democracy. This is not a metaphor for decline. It is a factual description of what happened. And that is why this editorial exists: so that we do not let this pass without naming it.

By Maxime Marquette, columnist