Article II and the Return of Impeachment: How Congress Is Reframing the Trump Presidency

Washington — The impeachment of President Donald Trump has re-entered the American political bloodstream, not as a sudden eruption but as a slow-building constitutional argument that has been accumulating for months. On the floor of the Senate this week, Democrats accused Majority Leader Mitch McConnell of orchestrating what they described as a procedural cover-up, alleging that trial rules were being designed to minimize public scrutiny. At the same time, in the House of Representatives, a series of impeachment resolutions citing Article II of the Constitution have been quietly stacking up, laying the groundwork for what could become the most consequential confrontation of Trump’s presidency.

Unlike earlier impeachment efforts, which were often framed around discrete events — the Ukraine pressure campaign in 2019 or the January 6 attack on the Capitol in 2021 — the current push is broader and more structural. Lawmakers advancing these resolutions argue that Trump’s conduct represents a sustained pattern of constitutional violations that, taken together, amount to what the framers described as “high crimes and misdemeanors.”

At the center of this effort is Article II, Section 4 of the Constitution, which states that “The President, Vice President and all civil Officers of the United States, shall be removed from Office on Impeachment for, and Conviction of, Treason, Bribery, or other high Crimes and Misdemeanors.” The language is spare, but its implications are sweeping. It does not merely permit removal; it requires it upon conviction.

Representative Al Green of Texas has emerged as the most persistent proponent of this constitutional interpretation. In April 2025, he introduced a detailed impeachment resolution that went far beyond symbolic protest. The measure laid out seven distinct articles of impeachment, each tied to specific actions and legal theories. A second resolution, filed in December 2025 and designated H.Res. 939, accused Trump of abuse of power for allegedly inciting violence against lawmakers, including statements that Green argued amounted to calls for their execution.

“These are not rhetorical documents,” Green said at the time. “They are constitutional indictments.”

The seven articles in the April resolution form a comprehensive portrait of presidential overreach. The first accuses Trump of obstruction of justice, citing efforts to interfere with investigations, attack judges and juries, and use executive power to evade accountability. Obstruction was a central charge in the impeachment proceedings against Richard Nixon and is widely considered a paradigmatic “high crime.”

Another article focuses on usurpation of Congress’s power over appropriations, alleging that Trump redirected or withheld federal funds without legislative authorization. The Constitution assigns spending authority exclusively to Congress, and lawmakers argue that ignoring that constraint strikes at the heart of the separation of powers.

Additional articles address the abuse of trade and war powers, including unilateral tariff actions and military threats undertaken without congressional approval; violations of the First Amendment through the use of government authority to punish or intimidate the press; the creation of unlawful executive offices without statutory authorization; bribery and corruption tied to personal financial benefit; and, finally, what the resolution explicitly labels “tyranny.”

The tyranny charge is notable not because it invokes a criminal statute, but because it echoes the political philosophy that animated the founding generation. The framers viewed impeachment as a safeguard against a president who governed as if above the law — a fear rooted in their rejection of monarchy. In that sense, the article argues, Trump’s assertion of near-absolute executive authority represents the precise danger Article II was designed to prevent.

H.Res. 939 takes a narrower but more incendiary approach. It contends that a president who incites violence against members of Congress undermines the legislative branch itself and threatens constitutional government. Such conduct, the resolution argues, cannot be reconciled with the oath of office.

Despite the gravity of these accusations, impeachment has not advanced procedurally. The reason is political, not legal. The House, currently controlled by Republicans, has not brought the resolutions to the floor. Under the Constitution, impeachment begins in the House with a simple majority vote. Only after impeachment does the process move to the Senate, where conviction — and removal from office — requires a two-thirds vote.

That arithmetic remains daunting. Even if Democrats were to regain control of the House in the November 2026 midterm elections, they would still face a Senate where bipartisan consensus for removal has historically proved elusive. Trump has been impeached twice before and acquitted both times, largely along party lines.

Yet advocates of the current effort argue that circumstances are different. They point to the breadth of the charges, the accumulation of alleged abuses, and shifting public opinion. They also emphasize that impeachment is not solely about immediate removal, but about establishing a constitutional record.

“These resolutions document conduct,” said one Democratic aide involved in the effort. “They’re about accountability, even if accountability comes later.”

The conversation has expanded beyond impeachment alone. Some lawmakers, including Senator Ed Markey of Massachusetts, have publicly raised the possibility of invoking the 25th Amendment, which allows the vice president and a majority of the cabinet to declare a president unfit to discharge the duties of office. While such a move remains highly unlikely — it would require a dramatic break within the administration — its mention underscores how far the debate has shifted.

For now, the Senate trial continues under rules negotiated by party leaders, and Trump remains in office. But the constitutional machinery is unmistakably in motion. Advocacy groups have launched campaigns centered explicitly on Article II language, framing impeachment not as partisan retaliation but as a constitutional obligation.

Even if removal never occurs, the process itself carries consequences. Impeachment consumes political oxygen, constrains a president’s agenda, and forces allies to make public choices between loyalty and institutional norms. It also shapes historical judgment. Nixon resigned before conviction, but the articles of impeachment defined his legacy. Bill Clinton was acquitted, yet impeachment remains a central chapter of his presidency.

In Trump’s case, the repeated invocation of Article II marks a turning point. It reflects a judgment — contested, but increasingly explicit — that the presidency itself has entered a constitutional stress test. Whether that test ends in removal, acquittal, or electoral reckoning, the debate has moved beyond personality and policy. It is now, unmistakably, about the Constitution and whether its safeguards still function as intended.

As one senior Democrat put it privately, “This is no longer about what’s politically convenient. It’s about what the document requires.”

The question facing Congress, and the country, is whether that requirement will ever be enforced.