EDITOR’S NOTE: Here’s an installment from Tillamook County’s State Representative Cyrus Javadi’s Substack blog, “A Point of Personal Privilege” Oregon legislator and local dentist. Representing District 32, a focus on practical policies and community well-being. This space offers insights on state issues, reflections on leadership, and stories from the Oregon coast, fostering thoughtful dialogue. Posted on Substack, 9/28/25
The Insurrection Act, Title 10, and why we don’t let Presidents play soldier-in-chief.
By State Representative Cyrus Javadi
Portland is a ‘“war zone”. Or maybe it isn’t. Depends on who you ask.
If that leaves you confused, you’re not alone.
Scrolling through the comments on my social media this morning felt like flipping between alternate universes. One person bragged about brunch downtown, “everything was fine.”
Okay, sounds lovely. Eggs Benedict and mimosas.
Meanwhile, another was warning neighbors not to leave the house without a weapon. Followed by someone saying: “Finally, the President is doing what the governor won’t.”
Which reality is it?
Same city, same streets, same moment. Brunch for some. Civil war for others.
A Sudden Change of Command
In case you’ve been avoiding the news, this morning (September 28, 2025), the President announced that he’s federalizing the Oregon National Guard under Title 10.
That means, as of today, those men and women no longer answer to the Governor. They answer to the President. And, that is significant, and historically, pretty rare.
Now, they’re not just volunteers in uniform who pitch in when a flood hits or a wildfire breaks out.
No, now they’re soldiers. Federal ones. And they’re being deployed into Portland.
And that split-screen version of reality is exactly why people are asking the question that matters most: when can the President actually send in the troops?
It’s a fair question. And it has an answer. Several, in fact.
What Gives a President the Right?
Can the President send troops to any city, major or not, for any reason? Not exactly.
Here’s the thing: a President doesn’t just get to send in the Army because he’s mad. Sorry.
And, he doesn’t get to turn the National Guard into a national police force because protesters spray-paint a courthouse or the news cameras catch a rowdy night downtown—not even if Ice Cube’s bus gets firebombed.
Because, that’s not how this country is built. Not legally. Not constitutionally. And, not if you want a system where leaders have limits on power.
So what does give a President the authority to send in the troops?
Three old laws: the Insurrection Act, the Posse Comitatus Act, and Titles 10 and 32 of the U.S. Code.
I know, that sounds like the kind of fine print you skip over. But stick with me, because these are the rules that keep us from living in a place where the military is the first answer to every domestic problem.
First, the Insurrection Act of 1807 is really the fire axe behind glass. It’s the “Houston, we have a problem” button. And what it says is that the President can use troops only when the courts and cops can’t function anymore.
In other words, when the whole system is jammed, and nobody’s left to call. Not when things get inconvenient. Not when headlines sting. Nice try. The Insurrection Act is for when law and order have actually collapsed, not just when it makes a good tweet.
Second, there’s the Posse Comitatus Act of 1878. Less dramatic, but just as vital. Passed after the Civil War, it was designed to stop Washington DC from using soldiers to police ordinary citizens.
In plain English, it says the Army isn’t your neighborhood patrol car. It isn’t there to make arrests, run checkpoints, or enforce curfews…unless Congress itself gives the green light. It’s the wall between civilian life and military force.
Third, you’ve got Title 10 and Title 32. This one’s about who the National Guard answers to. Under Title 32, they answer to the Governor. That’s what we are all used to seeing: neighbors who suit up during wildfires, sandbag the river during floods, or help at food banks when things get rough. They’re in uniform, but they’re still ours.
Under Title 10, though, they become federal. They take orders from Washington. Their mission isn’t set in Salem anymore, it’s set at the Pentagon.
And, that’s what just happened this morning.
That shift, from neighbor to soldier, and from state to federal, isn’t just paperwork. It changes what the Guard can do, who controls them, and how they show up in our communities.
Because Governors face voters. Judges write opinions. But soldiers follow orders.
And that’s why people feel this moment differently. Because it is different.
When Presidents Broke the Glass, And Had To
Let’s be clear: the laws we’re talking about weren’t written for hypothetical emergencies. They’ve been used. Not often, but when they are, it’s supposed to mean the house is actually on fire.
Take Little Rock, 1957.
Nine Black students tried to enroll at Central High. The Supreme Court had already ruled in Brown v. Board of Education that segregation in public schools was unconstitutional. But Arkansas Governor Orval Faubus didn’t care. He called in his state’s National Guard, not to protect the students, but to block them.
Crowds gathered. Judges issued orders. Local police hesitated. And nothing happened.
President Eisenhower wasn’t eager to stage a showdown. But he understood what was happening: a state was defying the Constitution, and the courts had no backup. So he invoked the Insurrection Act, federalized the Guard, and sent in the 101st Airborne.
Soldiers with bayonets escorted those nine children through the schoolhouse door.
It wasn’t a photo op. It wasn’t about “dominating the streets.” It was a constitutional gut-check. And Eisenhower passed it.
Jump to Los Angeles, 1992.
A jury had just acquitted four officers caught on tape beating Rodney King. Within hours, the city exploded. Sixty people were killed. More than a billion dollars in damage. Entire blocks burned. The LAPD couldn’t contain it. The Governor called in the Guard, but it wasn’t enough.
President George H. W. Bush didn’t grandstand. He waited for the state to ask for help. Then he federalized the Guard and sent in 4,000 federal troops and Marines. Not to settle scores. Not to impress pundits. Just to keep a city from falling apart.
In both cases, the standard was met. The crisis was real. The intervention was restrained. And when the dust settled, the troops went home.
That’s the model. Not perfection. Not politics. Just power used with discipline and humility. The kind that leaves the Constitution intact when the smoke clears.
The Guardrails Were Built for This Exact Panic
The Insurrection Act is there to protect the Union during true rebellion.
Posse Comitatus is there to keep the Army out of traffic stops and civil disputes.
Title 10 exists to mark the difference between a domestic emergency and federal military control.
None of these laws are casual. They weren’t passed for convenience. They were written to ensure that liberty survives its most dangerous moments, not just the quiet ones.
Because in a democracy, we don’t trust unchecked power. Not when it’s used to silence dissent. Not when it’s dressed up as “safety.” And not when it wears a uniform and carries the authority of the state without the consent of the governed.
They’re Still Our Neighbors
One more thing. Let’s not confuse the uniforms with the problem. The National Guard isn’t some faceless occupying army. They’re our neighbors. They teach in our schools, coach our kids, and pull shifts at the hospital. They’re the ones you see in line at Safeway, or sitting two pews over on Sunday.
When they get called up, they don’t stop being part of the community. They carry that with them, even when the mission changes. If you’re frustrated or worried about federal troops on Portland streets, don’t take it out on the Guard. They didn’t wake up and decide to trade a sandbag for a bayonet.
The real question isn’t about their character, it’s about the chain of command. Who they answer to. What they’re allowed to do. And whether those decisions respect the limits the Constitution put in place.
No, Portland Is Not a War Zone
So no, the question isn’t whether Portland is a war zone. It’s not.
And it’s not whether federal buildings should be protected. Of course they should.
The question is whether the legal and constitutional threshold has been met. Whether the courts are unable to function. Whether the state has refused to enforce the law. Whether there’s an actual breakdown in public order, not just disagreement over how it’s being handled.
That’s what the Insurrection Act requires. That’s what Posse Comitatus protects. That’s why Title 10 matters.
Order without liberty isn’t America. But liberty without order won’t last either.
The work of self-government is to hold that tension, to trust the courts before the generals, to follow the law before the impulse, and to make sure the fire axe stays behind the glass until the house is actually on fire.
Because if we forget that, the next time someone breaks the glass, it won’t be to save the building.
It’ll be to take control of it.