Let me get this straight, because I want to make sure I have the geometry right. The plan is to erect a 250-foot triumphal arch in Washington, D.C. — triumphal, mind you, which is a word that historically implies some triumph has occurred — and the objection from the opposing party is that it lacks congressional approval. Not that it lacks a triumph. The approval. Apparently the triumph is assumed; it's the paperwork that's missing.
Congressional Democrats have warned that officials who push the project forward could face fines or criminal prosecution. Fines. For the arch. Not for the arch's premise, which is doing considerably more structural damage than any arch could, but for the failure to file the correct forms before pouring the concrete. The Romans, I should note, did not file forms. They filed Gauls.
Now, a triumphal arch is a specific architectural tradition. The Arch of Titus commemorated the sack of Jerusalem. The Arc de Triomphe marked Napoleon's armies, back when Napoleon still had armies to mark. The tradition is clear: first the triumph, then the arch. You don't build the arch and then look around for a triumph to stick underneath it. That's not architecture. That's a gift shop waiting for inventory.
But here is where the institutional logic gets interesting, and by interesting I mean it has started eating itself. The warning is: do not build this without our approval. Which means Congress is now officially in the position of being the body that either approves or denies a monument to itself being bypassed. The gatekeepers of the gate are being asked to approve the gate. I would say this is unprecedented, but unprecedented has been pulling double shifts lately and is frankly exhausted.
The administration, for its part, has not indicated it will stop. This makes sense. If you've already decided the arch commemorates something, a letter from Congress is not going to reclassify it. Letters from Congress have not traditionally stopped things that were already treating Congress as a decorative element.
The fines, though — now there's a number I'd like to see. Somewhere, a federal schedule contains the per-diem rate for unauthorized triumphalism, and I suspect it is not 250 feet tall.