Who holds sovereign decision-making authority in a constitutional state?
When a security agreement or foreign-policy decision is described as a “sovereign decision”, the phrase is sometimes used as though it settles the question of who was authorised to make it. It actually opens that question. In Iraq, where a parliamentary statement on 30 September 2026 again raised the transition from the coalition mission to cooperation based on mutual interests, understanding the decision-making process is itself part of protecting independence. A patriotic objective does not establish the correct legal competence, and a file’s importance does not place its holder beyond the limits of delegated authority. [1]
Distributing powers may appear to obstruct speed, especially during crises. Yet a decision whose authorisation, cost assessment and review responsibilities remain unclear carries another risk: everyone can claim credit for success and transfer responsibility elsewhere after failure. Asking who represents Iraq at a meeting is consequently different from asking who can approve a long-term commitment in its name. The first may identify an authorised individual; the second requires examination of a chain of institutions, rules and procedures.
The people are the source of legitimacy; competence is not personal ownership
Article 5 of Iraq’s Constitution identifies the people as the source of the authorities and their legitimacy, exercised through voting and constitutional institutions, with sovereignty vested in the law. Article 47 organises federal legislative, executive and judicial authorities around the separation of powers. This does not create three owners of competing sovereignties. It distributes state functions so that an individual’s will, or a temporary majority, does not become the sole test of lawful action. [2]
Election confers an important mandate, but it does not give every authority every power. Parliament does not become an executive command because its members are elected, and a government does not dispense with legislation because it has won confidence. Nor does the judiciary choose the best economic or diplomatic policy merely because it reviews legality. Useful separation requires understanding each body’s function, rather than making separation a permanent refusal to cooperate or using jurisdiction to shift burdens onto others.
Article 78, which makes the Prime Minister the direct executive authority responsible for general state policy and Commander-in-Chief, should be read alongside Article 80 on the Council of Ministers, not instead of it. The Council plans and implements policy, prepares the draft budget, and negotiates and signs international agreements and treaties or delegates those tasks. Leadership therefore entails direct responsibility for executive work within a constitutional framework. It does not automatically place every decision with security consequences within one person’s competence.
War decisions reveal the difference between command and authorisation
Article 61(9) provides for approval of a declaration of war or state of emergency by a two-thirds majority, following a joint request from the President and Prime Minister. It establishes a duration for an emergency, approval for extensions and subsequent presentation of measures and results to Parliament. This is a specific example of exceptional executive capacity retaining a source of authorisation and subsequent review. Reading these provisions does not equate every security measure or training arrangement with a declaration of war: the legal character of each action must first be established.
This distinction matters in practice. When managing an existing task becomes confused with creating a new commitment, authority may expand without anyone identifying the transition. A limited technical arrangement may acquire financial costs, duration or guarantees that change its nature. I propose that the competent institution should attach a concise statement identifying a decision’s legal basis, the scope of its authorisation, its time and financial limits, and the authority to which it must return if those limits change.
Treaties raise the same issue. Negotiation and signature, the statutory regulation of ratification, and constitutional ratification are stages that cannot be reduced to a photograph of a signing ceremony. Article 61(4) requires a two-thirds majority for the law regulating the ratification process for treaties and international agreements, while Article 73 addresses presidential ratification following parliamentary approval. The first provision should not be turned into a simplified rule that every agreement, of whatever kind, automatically requires the same vote. The applicable law, the nature of the commitment and its prescribed procedures must be examined. [2]
The budget makes decisions testable in another way. An institution may announce a broad objective, but the resources it requires must enter a defined financial process. Article 62 requires the Council of Ministers to submit the draft budget and final accounts to Parliament. Strategic commitments should therefore be read alongside recurring costs, maintenance and training, rather than their initial price alone. This is an analytical reading of the relationship between authorisation and implementation capacity, not a judgement on a particular contract or an allegation of a specific unlawful commitment.
What can a British crisis teach us?
In September 2019, the UK Supreme Court unanimously ruled that Parliament’s prorogation on the Prime Minister’s advice was unlawful because it frustrated parliamentary functions without reasonable justification. The Court nullified its effect. It did not decide the appropriate policy for leaving the European Union; it reviewed the limits of the instrument the government used in that dispute. [3]
The example’s value for Iraq lies in the question it poses to our institutions, rather than in importing the British ruling. Citizens and representatives may disagree about a policy’s substance while still needing an authority capable of examining the legality of procedures that prevent debate or alter its conditions. When oversight protects institutional decision-making, it does not compete with society’s right to choose. It protects the rules that allow competent bodies to exercise that right.
The comparison has clear limits. Britain’s constitutional history and arrangements do not match Iraq’s written federal Constitution. In Iraq, Articles 93 and 94 set out the Federal Supreme Court’s jurisdiction and the effect of its decisions; each dispute must be examined within that framework. A judicial route also cannot compensate for Parliament’s lack of information, nor turn a court into an agency that calculates every project’s returns or chooses every foreign partner. A sound decision requires several functions to be performed on time, rather than one institution being expected to repair every failure.
Coordination that preserves responsibility
There is a reasonable objection: such procedures may consume time the state does not have. The answer is not to disregard delay, but to distinguish preparation that can be completed beforehand from assessment required when an event occurs. Government and Parliament can establish clear information requirements, review deadlines and channels that protect legitimate confidentiality without turning urgency into an unlimited exemption. Alternatives and legal assessments can be prepared in ordinary conditions so that institutions do not start from nothing when time becomes scarce.
Conversely, excessive approvals may dissipate responsibility or become a means of extracting concessions between agencies. I am not proposing another signature for every existing one. Unnecessary approvals should be removed while a clear point of authorisation and a clear point of accountability remain. When an institution’s view is requested, everyone should know whether it is advice or binding consent, and whether it suspends the procedure or accompanies it. Ambiguity over these distinctions consumes time without providing additional constitutional protection.
In my judgement, Iraqi decisions become more durable when the implementing body has a defined mandate, the oversight body has enough information to assess it, and the judiciary can review legality within its jurisdiction. The outcome may be to reject, amend or approve an agreement. Constitutional arrangements do not predetermine that outcome, but they reduce the possibility that a commitment made in Iraq’s name becomes an affair for which Iraqis cannot identify responsibility.
No one owns sovereign decision-making as personal property. Institutions exercise its functions on society’s behalf and according to law. State strength appears when a decision can be attributed to a competent authority, its reasoning explained, its effects reviewed and its course corrected without every disagreement becoming a conflict over the state’s existence.
Cite this article
Ali Zuweid. Who holds sovereign decision-making authority in a constitutional state?. 21 October 2026. https://alizuweid.com/articles/constitutional-state-sovereign-decision/?lang=en