The War On Warriors

What happens to a nation when the very institution designed to deter enemies and win wars is told that its first job is social engineering? In The War on Warriors, Pete Hegseth argues that America’s fighting force has been captured by a political project that puts ideology before lethality. He contends that in the last decade—accelerating under the Obama and Biden administrations—the Pentagon has shifted from forging powerful, disciplined warfighters to policing language, prioritizing quotas, and labeling traditional patriots as threats. In his view, that shift is not just misguided; it’s strategically dangerous. And it’s reversible only if citizens, veterans, and especially the next generation of warriors re-commit to constitutional first principles and re-take the high ground from within.

Hegseth’s thesis is simple and uncomfortable: when the military treats “diversity” and “extremism” as its central problems, it stops doing the hard, unglamorous work of training tougher units, holding feckless generals accountable, and preparing to deter China, Iran, Russia, and non-state terror networks. Instead of “more lethality, fewer lawyers,” we got the reverse. He believes this is why recruitment is falling, trust is collapsing, and readiness is sliding—from the Heritage Foundation’s rating of the force as “weak,” to the Air Force’s inability to meet aircraft mission-capable rates under leadership that simultaneously mandates DEI metrics.

What You’ll Learn in This Summary

You’ll see how a Pentagon-wide “stand-down” after January 6—nominally to fight extremism—enshrined the myth that the ranks were crawling with radicals, despite studies showing veterans’ support for white supremacists is significantly lower than the public’s (RAND, 2023). You’ll examine how a race-obsessed working group led by Bishop Garrison set the tone for surveillance of troops’ views, how Gen. Mark Milley’s public musings on “white rage” became a policy signal, and how renaming bases and removing photos from promotion boards were treated as operational priorities.

You’ll also look at the policies that most directly change who fights and how well they can fight: the women-in-combat push (including the Marine Corps’ 2015 Ground Combat Element Integrated Task Force results), the Pentagon’s transgender service directive (DoDI 1300.28) with long non-deployable periods and medical-dependency risks, and the lowering or bifurcating of physical standards to hit representation targets instead of fielding deadlier teams. Hegseth layers in specific stories—his air-assault into a Baghdad mortar cell, his S-5 intelligence grind in Samarra, and his night in DC on a riot line taking bricks and urine bottles—showing how discipline, purpose, and unit trust, not politics, are what keep soldiers alive.

Why It Matters Now

He argues this is a “now or never” moment. Unlike public schools or corporations, there’s only one Pentagon; if you cede it, you lose the immune system of the Republic. The author sketches what he calls “cowboys led by cowards”—trigger-pullers disciplined and selfless, overseen by an upper class of careerist generals who evade accountability for catastrophic failures (Afghanistan’s Abbey Gate, the botched Kabul drone strike, $7B in equipment left to the Taliban), then cash out to defense contractors (echoing Eisenhower’s warning about the “military-industrial complex”).

Running through the book is a covenantal argument: soldiers swear an oath to the Constitution—not to parties or passing fads. Drawing on biblical imagery (particularly Gideon), Hegseth says a healthy military starts by tearing down internal idols—critical race theory, forced pronouns, quota-first promotion—so it can face external threats. The “laws of war,” he warns, shouldn’t be misapplied to shackle those who risk their lives for us with lawyered hesitation against enemies who hide among civilians and break every norm. (Compare to Victor Davis Hanson’s arguments in Carnage and Culture and The Savior Generals, and John McWhorter’s Woke Racism on ideological capture.)

The Big Promise—and the Hard Ask

The promise is that warfighters, not word-police, secure peace. The hard ask is to stop abandoning the services to activists. He urges parents to raise strong, faithful, patriotic sons—and yes, to consider elite combat arms units where merit still carries weight—and to demand political and senior military leaders who restore leadership, training time, and standards. If you want a military that protects your kids, you must send leaders and soldiers who love the Constitution—and who’d rather be judged for stacking bodies of America’s enemies than stacking DEI slides.

What happens to a nation when the very institution designed to deter enemies and win wars is told that its first job is social engineering? In The War on Warriors, Pete Hegseth argues that America’s fighting force has been captured by a political project that puts ideology before lethality. He contends that in the last decade—accelerating under the Obama and Biden administrations—the Pentagon has shifted from forging powerful, disciplined warfighters to policing language, prioritizing quotas, and labeling traditional patriots as threats. In his view, that shift is not just misguided; it’s strategically dangerous. And it’s reversible only if citizens, veterans, and especially the next generation of warriors re-commit to constitutional first principles and re-take the high ground from within.

Hegseth’s thesis is simple and uncomfortable: when the military treats “diversity” and “extremism” as its central problems, it stops doing the hard, unglamorous work of training tougher units, holding feckless generals accountable, and preparing to deter China, Iran, Russia, and non-state terror networks. Instead of “more lethality, fewer lawyers,” we got the reverse. He believes this is why recruitment is falling, trust is collapsing, and readiness is sliding—from the Heritage Foundation’s rating of the force as “weak,” to the Air Force’s inability to meet aircraft mission-capable rates under leadership that simultaneously mandates DEI metrics.

What You’ll Learn in This Summary

You’ll see how a Pentagon-wide “stand-down” after January 6—nominally to fight extremism—enshrined the myth that the ranks were crawling with radicals, despite studies showing veterans’ support for white supremacists is significantly lower than the public’s (RAND, 2023). You’ll examine how a race-obsessed working group led by Bishop Garrison set the tone for surveillance of troops’ views, how Gen. Mark Milley’s public musings on “white rage” became a policy signal, and how renaming bases and removing photos from promotion boards were treated as operational priorities.

You’ll also look at the policies that most directly change who fights and how well they can fight: the women-in-combat push (including the Marine Corps’ 2015 Ground Combat Element Integrated Task Force results), the Pentagon’s transgender service directive (DoDI 1300.28) with long non-deployable periods and medical-dependency risks, and the lowering or bifurcating of physical standards to hit representation targets instead of fielding deadlier teams. Hegseth layers in specific stories—his air-assault into a Baghdad mortar cell, his S-5 intelligence grind in Samarra, and his night in DC on a riot line taking bricks and urine bottles—showing how discipline, purpose, and unit trust, not politics, are what keep soldiers alive.

Why It Matters Now

He argues this is a “now or never” moment. Unlike public schools or corporations, there’s only one Pentagon; if you cede it, you lose the immune system of the Republic. The author sketches what he calls “cowboys led by cowards”—trigger-pullers disciplined and selfless, overseen by an upper class of careerist generals who evade accountability for catastrophic failures (Afghanistan’s Abbey Gate, the botched Kabul drone strike, $7B in equipment left to the Taliban), then cash out to defense contractors (echoing Eisenhower’s warning about the “military-industrial complex”).

Running through the book is a covenantal argument: soldiers swear an oath to the Constitution—not to parties or passing fads. Drawing on biblical imagery (particularly Gideon), Hegseth says a healthy military starts by tearing down internal idols—critical race theory, forced pronouns, quota-first promotion—so it can face external threats. The “laws of war,” he warns, shouldn’t be misapplied to shackle those who risk their lives for us with lawyered hesitation against enemies who hide among civilians and break every norm. (Compare to Victor Davis Hanson’s arguments in Carnage and Culture and The Savior Generals, and John McWhorter’s Woke Racism on ideological capture.)

The Big Promise—and the Hard Ask

The promise is that warfighters, not word-police, secure peace. The hard ask is to stop abandoning the services to activists. He urges parents to raise strong, faithful, patriotic sons—and yes, to consider elite combat arms units where merit still carries weight—and to demand political and senior military leaders who restore leadership, training time, and standards. If you want a military that protects your kids, you must send leaders and soldiers who love the Constitution—and who’d rather be judged for stacking bodies of America’s enemies than stacking DEI slides.

Hegseth’s central operational critique is “mission drift”: the Pentagon’s turn from readiness and lethality to social reengineering. He charts a timeline—especially post-2020—where symbolism and identity metrics eclipse training and standards. At stake isn’t hurt feelings; it’s whether units can shoot, move, and communicate when it counts.

The Extremism Stand-Down

In February 2021, Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin ordered a DoD-wide “stand-down” to counter extremism, sparked by a small number of service members at the Capitol on January 6. The order birthed a Countering Extremism Working Group led by Bishop Garrison, a vocal proponent of the 1619 Project and a partisan critic of Trump supporters. Hegseth argues the stand-down presupposed guilt—turning an institution with tight discipline and screening into a suspect pool. He points to data that cut the other way: RAND found veterans’ support for white supremacists lower than the US public overall; the administration’s own review detected just 100 extremist cases among 2.1 million service members (about 0.005%).

Gen. Milley’s “White Rage” and Symbolic Wins

In a high-profile hearing, Gen. Mark Milley defended studying critical theory to understand “white rage,” and under his tenure the Pentagon prioritized initiatives like renaming nine bases for $39 million while never flagging their Confederate names as morale issues when he commanded there earlier. Hegseth’s point isn’t about names per se; it’s about what leaders treat as urgent while readiness, recruiting, and deterrence slide. Removing photos from promotion boards (to avoid bias) and treating beards, hairstyles, and grooming as civil-rights questions are further examples of what he sees as “HR priorities” substituting for warfighting focus.

Critical Race Theory in the Classroom

The author relays accounts from cadets and junior officers at West Point and other academies who sat through mandatory CRT/DEI seminars—some that excluded white cadets from speaking, others that explicitly framed the military as systemically biased. He argues that introducing power-conflict templates into the ranks undermines the “we’re all green” identity that carried integrated units to victory for decades (Thomas Sowell has similarly argued that affirmative-action templates often erode, not build, trust and performance).

What DEI Crowds Out

A repeated refrain from commanders Hegseth interviewed: time is finite. Hours spent on reeducation briefs are hours not spent at the range, on gunnery, in the field, or wrenching on vehicles. When senior leaders track DEI compliance more aggressively than gunnery tables, junior leaders quickly discover which priorities advance careers. The result is fewer reps on the mission-essential tasks that keep soldiers alive.

Hegseth’s central operational critique is “mission drift”: the Pentagon’s turn from readiness and lethality to social reengineering. He charts a timeline—especially post-2020—where symbolism and identity metrics eclipse training and standards. At stake isn’t hurt feelings; it’s whether units can shoot, move, and communicate when it counts.

The Extremism Stand-Down

In February 2021, Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin ordered a DoD-wide “stand-down” to counter extremism, sparked by a small number of service members at the Capitol on January 6. The order birthed a Countering Extremism Working Group led by Bishop Garrison, a vocal proponent of the 1619 Project and a partisan critic of Trump supporters. Hegseth argues the stand-down presupposed guilt—turning an institution with tight discipline and screening into a suspect pool. He points to data that cut the other way: RAND found veterans’ support for white supremacists lower than the US public overall; the administration’s own review detected just 100 extremist cases among 2.1 million service members (about 0.005%).

Gen. Milley’s “White Rage” and Symbolic Wins

In a high-profile hearing, Gen. Mark Milley defended studying critical theory to understand “white rage,” and under his tenure the Pentagon prioritized initiatives like renaming nine bases for $39 million while never flagging their Confederate names as morale issues when he commanded there earlier. Hegseth’s point isn’t about names per se; it’s about what leaders treat as urgent while readiness, recruiting, and deterrence slide. Removing photos from promotion boards (to avoid bias) and treating beards, hairstyles, and grooming as civil-rights questions are further examples of what he sees as “HR priorities” substituting for warfighting focus.

Critical Race Theory in the Classroom

The author relays accounts from cadets and junior officers at West Point and other academies who sat through mandatory CRT/DEI seminars—some that excluded white cadets from speaking, others that explicitly framed the military as systemically biased. He argues that introducing power-conflict templates into the ranks undermines the “we’re all green” identity that carried integrated units to victory for decades (Thomas Sowell has similarly argued that affirmative-action templates often erode, not build, trust and performance).

What DEI Crowds Out

A repeated refrain from commanders Hegseth interviewed: time is finite. Hours spent on reeducation briefs are hours not spent at the range, on gunnery, in the field, or wrenching on vehicles. When senior leaders track DEI compliance more aggressively than gunnery tables, junior leaders quickly discover which priorities advance careers. The result is fewer reps on the mission-essential tasks that keep soldiers alive.

One of the book’s rawest chapters details the personal cost of the new suspicion. Hegseth describes being removed from orders to help secure the 2021 inauguration, after 25,000 Guard troops were surged into DC. The official story: the unit didn’t need him. The backstory, he later learned: he’d been labeled an “extremist,” with a Jerusalem Cross tattoo misidentified as a white nationalist symbol by two soldiers trolling his social media. The instruction that followed—“Hegseth needs to stay the f— away”—revealed where the presumption of guilt now rested.

The DC Riot Line

Months earlier, in June 2020, he had stood on a DC riot line outside Lafayette Square, shoulder-to-shoulder with Guardsmen taking frozen water bottles, bricks, and urine bottles while holding defensive posture. He recounts Black Lives Matter activists hurling racist slurs specifically at black soldiers—trying to break them by attacking their identity. The troops held. The vignette illustrates his broader point: the people most likely to forgo personal ego and serve with restraint are the same people now targeted as suspect by ideological litmus tests.

Data vs. Narrative

Hegseth contrasts the “extremism” narrative with empirical findings. RAND’s press release: veterans show lower support for white supremacists than the general population. The DoD’s own counts: extremist cases are vanishingly rare. Yet the entire force paused training to signal a new moral panic. He treats this as organizational gaslighting: you call the ranks sick to justify imposing a “cure” that advances a political program.

The Chilling Effect

For troops, the lesson is clear: hide your views, or your faith symbols, or risk your career. For families, the effect is even clearer: don’t send your kids into a system that treats them as suspect for their convictions. Recruiting data supports the trend: the Army’s drop in white enlistments from 44,000 (2018) to 25,000 (2023) suggests a trust breach with the very populations historically filling combat arms.

One of the book’s rawest chapters details the personal cost of the new suspicion. Hegseth describes being removed from orders to help secure the 2021 inauguration, after 25,000 Guard troops were surged into DC. The official story: the unit didn’t need him. The backstory, he later learned: he’d been labeled an “extremist,” with a Jerusalem Cross tattoo misidentified as a white nationalist symbol by two soldiers trolling his social media. The instruction that followed—“Hegseth needs to stay the f— away”—revealed where the presumption of guilt now rested.

The DC Riot Line

Months earlier, in June 2020, he had stood on a DC riot line outside Lafayette Square, shoulder-to-shoulder with Guardsmen taking frozen water bottles, bricks, and urine bottles while holding defensive posture. He recounts Black Lives Matter activists hurling racist slurs specifically at black soldiers—trying to break them by attacking their identity. The troops held. The vignette illustrates his broader point: the people most likely to forgo personal ego and serve with restraint are the same people now targeted as suspect by ideological litmus tests.

Data vs. Narrative

Hegseth contrasts the “extremism” narrative with empirical findings. RAND’s press release: veterans show lower support for white supremacists than the general population. The DoD’s own counts: extremist cases are vanishingly rare. Yet the entire force paused training to signal a new moral panic. He treats this as organizational gaslighting: you call the ranks sick to justify imposing a “cure” that advances a political program.

The Chilling Effect

For troops, the lesson is clear: hide your views, or your faith symbols, or risk your career. For families, the effect is even clearer: don’t send your kids into a system that treats them as suspect for their convictions. Recruiting data supports the trend: the Army’s drop in white enlistments from 44,000 (2018) to 25,000 (2023) suggests a trust breach with the very populations historically filling combat arms.

The book’s most granular sections dig into how sex-related policies reshape combat effectiveness—who serves, what standards apply, and whether units can still do the job under fire. Hegseth’s bottom line is blunt: distractions in war get people killed. Any policy that increases distraction, reduces training time, or masks performance gaps creates real risk.

Women in Ground Combat

Hegseth focuses on the 2015 Marine Corps Ground Combat Element Integrated Task Force (ITF): 400 Marines executing 134 tasks, comparing all-male units to gender-integrated ones. The results were lopsided: all-male units outperformed 70% of the time, were faster and more accurate with weapons, and suffered fewer injuries; women were injured at twice the rate. He argues that leaders then spun the findings—praising “complex decision-making” benefits—while ignoring the operational reality: speed, strength, and accuracy under fatigue decide firefights. (For context, see also the British Ministry of Defence reviews and the Israeli experience on mixed units’ physical attrition.)

Standards Drift

He cites specific changes that followed the push to open all combat roles: modifications to Airborne School traditions (e.g., dropping routine 5-mile runs; busing to hangars instead of marching), a muddled Army Combat Fitness Test rollout, and “tiering” standards by MOS that quickly morphed into downward pressure to reduce washout rates. In practice, he argues, commands quietly adapt to the message from above—“Why are so many women failing?”—by shaving edges off standards that once served as a safety filter.

Transgender Service and Medical Dependency

DoDI 1300.28 (2022) codifies support for gender transitions, including surgeries, hormone treatments, waivers to grooming standards, and allowances for extended non-deployable periods (Obama-era study estimated ~238 days post-op). Hegseth argues that in combat you plan for deprivation—no allergy meds, no custom glasses; you remove dental timebombs before deployment. By design, transition regimens create a sustained medical dependency pipeline that risks non-availability at the pivot point. His question is operational: can the unit count on you, in austere conditions, for months?

PR vs. Performance

He critiques what he calls the “very special forces” PR loop—celebrating thinly qualified “firsts,” high-profile pride-month campaigns, and rare outlier successes (e.g., Silver Star awardee SSG Leigh Ann Hester) as “proof” while suppressing the force-wide data. He recounts his First Sergeant Eric Geressy’s Silver Star arriving by mail while female awardees received VIP ceremonies—arguing the message to the ranks is clear: representation beats results.

The book’s most granular sections dig into how sex-related policies reshape combat effectiveness—who serves, what standards apply, and whether units can still do the job under fire. Hegseth’s bottom line is blunt: distractions in war get people killed. Any policy that increases distraction, reduces training time, or masks performance gaps creates real risk.

Women in Ground Combat

Hegseth focuses on the 2015 Marine Corps Ground Combat Element Integrated Task Force (ITF): 400 Marines executing 134 tasks, comparing all-male units to gender-integrated ones. The results were lopsided: all-male units outperformed 70% of the time, were faster and more accurate with weapons, and suffered fewer injuries; women were injured at twice the rate. He argues that leaders then spun the findings—praising “complex decision-making” benefits—while ignoring the operational reality: speed, strength, and accuracy under fatigue decide firefights. (For context, see also the British Ministry of Defence reviews and the Israeli experience on mixed units’ physical attrition.)

Standards Drift

He cites specific changes that followed the push to open all combat roles: modifications to Airborne School traditions (e.g., dropping routine 5-mile runs; busing to hangars instead of marching), a muddled Army Combat Fitness Test rollout, and “tiering” standards by MOS that quickly morphed into downward pressure to reduce washout rates. In practice, he argues, commands quietly adapt to the message from above—“Why are so many women failing?”—by shaving edges off standards that once served as a safety filter.

Transgender Service and Medical Dependency

DoDI 1300.28 (2022) codifies support for gender transitions, including surgeries, hormone treatments, waivers to grooming standards, and allowances for extended non-deployable periods (Obama-era study estimated ~238 days post-op). Hegseth argues that in combat you plan for deprivation—no allergy meds, no custom glasses; you remove dental timebombs before deployment. By design, transition regimens create a sustained medical dependency pipeline that risks non-availability at the pivot point. His question is operational: can the unit count on you, in austere conditions, for months?

PR vs. Performance

He critiques what he calls the “very special forces” PR loop—celebrating thinly qualified “firsts,” high-profile pride-month campaigns, and rare outlier successes (e.g., Silver Star awardee SSG Leigh Ann Hester) as “proof” while suppressing the force-wide data. He recounts his First Sergeant Eric Geressy’s Silver Star arriving by mail while female awardees received VIP ceremonies—arguing the message to the ranks is clear: representation beats results.

“The warriors are fine; the brass is broken.” That’s Hegseth’s diagnosis of senior military leadership. He uses the Afghanistan withdrawal to showcase a collapse of accountability: a preventable mass-casualty attack at Abbey Gate (13 Americans killed), a drone strike misrepresented for days as “righteous” that killed 10 civilians (seven children), and billions in US equipment left to the Taliban. No general was fired. The only officer punished in the episode’s moral arc was LtCol Stuart Scheller, cashiered for publicly demanding accountability.

Careerism and the Revolving Door

Hegseth channels a Special Forces warrant officer: “The current state of the military is careerism.” He cites Quincy Institute data showing 80% of retiring four-stars (since 2018) jumping to defense industry boards—fueling Eisenhower’s 1961 warning about the “military-industrial complex.” When your next promotion—and pension-boosting billet—depends on pleasing the political class, you don’t rock the boat. You also don’t take responsibility when plans fail. (Compare to Thomas Ricks’ The Generals on lost traditions of relief and accountability since WWII.)

Too Many Generals, Too Little War

With 44 four-stars for ~1.2M active personnel (versus seven four-stars for 21M in WWII), he argues structure invites bureaucracy. More flags equal more headquarters, more PowerPoints, more lawyers—and fewer hours training platoons to fight. His remedy list is stark: fire most of the political climbers; impose a 10-year cooling-off period before any general can work for a defense contractor; promote on battlefield-effectiveness and integrity, not PR alignment.

Honor Culture vs. Optics Culture

He contrasts an older honor culture—think Joshua Chamberlain elevating a flag-bearer on Little Round Top—with today’s optics culture, where a general apologizes for briefly walking with the commander-in-chief outside the White House during riots to mollify media critiques, yet doesn’t resign after strategic failure. The lesson the ranks absorb: the only unforgivable sin is crossing the narrative.

“The warriors are fine; the brass is broken.” That’s Hegseth’s diagnosis of senior military leadership. He uses the Afghanistan withdrawal to showcase a collapse of accountability: a preventable mass-casualty attack at Abbey Gate (13 Americans killed), a drone strike misrepresented for days as “righteous” that killed 10 civilians (seven children), and billions in US equipment left to the Taliban. No general was fired. The only officer punished in the episode’s moral arc was LtCol Stuart Scheller, cashiered for publicly demanding accountability.

Careerism and the Revolving Door

Hegseth channels a Special Forces warrant officer: “The current state of the military is careerism.” He cites Quincy Institute data showing 80% of retiring four-stars (since 2018) jumping to defense industry boards—fueling Eisenhower’s 1961 warning about the “military-industrial complex.” When your next promotion—and pension-boosting billet—depends on pleasing the political class, you don’t rock the boat. You also don’t take responsibility when plans fail. (Compare to Thomas Ricks’ The Generals on lost traditions of relief and accountability since WWII.)

Too Many Generals, Too Little War

With 44 four-stars for ~1.2M active personnel (versus seven four-stars for 21M in WWII), he argues structure invites bureaucracy. More flags equal more headquarters, more PowerPoints, more lawyers—and fewer hours training platoons to fight. His remedy list is stark: fire most of the political climbers; impose a 10-year cooling-off period before any general can work for a defense contractor; promote on battlefield-effectiveness and integrity, not PR alignment.

Honor Culture vs. Optics Culture

He contrasts an older honor culture—think Joshua Chamberlain elevating a flag-bearer on Little Round Top—with today’s optics culture, where a general apologizes for briefly walking with the commander-in-chief outside the White House during riots to mollify media critiques, yet doesn’t resign after strategic failure. The lesson the ranks absorb: the only unforgivable sin is crossing the narrative.

“Men need purpose, not inclusion.” Hegseth stakes a countercultural claim: healthy militaries harness masculine drive—discipline it, test it, and direct it toward protecting others. Pathologize masculinity as “toxic,” and you simultaneously shrink your recruiting base and increase undisciplined male behavior in civilian life (Sebastian Junger’s Tribe makes a similar point: men thrive in meaningful, cohesive adversity; hollow them out, and they drift).

A Platoon Leader’s Education

Hegseth’s section from Samarra, Iraq is telling. Pulled from Wall Street into the 101st, he arrives as the “National Garbage” outsider and earns trust the old-fashioned way—“more reps, more rucks, more reps.” His S-5 intelligence grind with Capt. Chris Brawley—verifying names, mapping tribes, running informants—produced actionable hits. His Baghdad mortar-cell raid—navigational improvisation, deception exfil with Black Hawks, and a cache discovered on a riverbank—was merit in motion. Those lessons, he argues, are the ones a fighting force must prize and replicate. They’re also the reason men sign up.

Recruiting and Messaging

The services’ pivot to identity-heavy recruiting, he argues, alienated the exact young men who used to flood infantry and special operations pipelines. The Army’s sharp drop in white enlistments since 2018 may reflect those cultural signals: “We don’t want your type.” Meanwhile, parents who once prized the military as a character-forge now see the force teaching their kids that their faith or skin color makes them suspect.

Forge vs. Showcase

A forge melts and remakes metal; a showcase bathes it in approval as-is. Hegseth says the military is historically a forge: you surrender parts of yourself—speech, schedule, haircut, privacy—to be remade into a teammate who can be counted on at 0300. A showcase military, however, asks others to rearrange reality around your self-concept. That inversion—the unit exists to affirm me—kills cohesion and invites failure.

“Men need purpose, not inclusion.” Hegseth stakes a countercultural claim: healthy militaries harness masculine drive—discipline it, test it, and direct it toward protecting others. Pathologize masculinity as “toxic,” and you simultaneously shrink your recruiting base and increase undisciplined male behavior in civilian life (Sebastian Junger’s Tribe makes a similar point: men thrive in meaningful, cohesive adversity; hollow them out, and they drift).

A Platoon Leader’s Education

Hegseth’s section from Samarra, Iraq is telling. Pulled from Wall Street into the 101st, he arrives as the “National Garbage” outsider and earns trust the old-fashioned way—“more reps, more rucks, more reps.” His S-5 intelligence grind with Capt. Chris Brawley—verifying names, mapping tribes, running informants—produced actionable hits. His Baghdad mortar-cell raid—navigational improvisation, deception exfil with Black Hawks, and a cache discovered on a riverbank—was merit in motion. Those lessons, he argues, are the ones a fighting force must prize and replicate. They’re also the reason men sign up.

Recruiting and Messaging

The services’ pivot to identity-heavy recruiting, he argues, alienated the exact young men who used to flood infantry and special operations pipelines. The Army’s sharp drop in white enlistments since 2018 may reflect those cultural signals: “We don’t want your type.” Meanwhile, parents who once prized the military as a character-forge now see the force teaching their kids that their faith or skin color makes them suspect.

Forge vs. Showcase

A forge melts and remakes metal; a showcase bathes it in approval as-is. Hegseth says the military is historically a forge: you surrender parts of yourself—speech, schedule, haircut, privacy—to be remade into a teammate who can be counted on at 0300. A showcase military, however, asks others to rearrange reality around your self-concept. That inversion—the unit exists to affirm me—kills cohesion and invites failure.

Hegseth doesn’t dismiss just war theory; he rejects its misapplication. He sketches the classical frame (Augustine, Just War; jus ad bellum/jus in bello) and the Geneva Conventions’ logic (uniformed combatants, POW protections). The operational problem today: adversaries exploit those rules—fighting out of uniform, hiding among civilians, ensuring our ROE hamper us while theirs are nonexistent.

Rules of Engagement in the Real World

In Baghdad, a JAG brief told Hegseth’s platoon they couldn’t engage an enemy with an RPG unless it was actively aimed at them. He told his men the only safe rule was to engage clear threats before they fired—backed by then-Col. (later Brig. Gen.) Michael Steele’s “kill coin” ethos for destroying enemy forces. The point wasn’t license; it was survival. Split-second hesitation costs lives. Misapplied caution—especially by leaders far from the line—pushes that cost downward onto 19-year-olds.

The New Presumption

He flags a 2023 policy shift in which the US adopted a presumption that “persons and objects in combat zones” are civilians unless proven otherwise. In complex terrain against hybrid enemies, that presumption increases hesitation and post-hoc legal jeopardy. He calls for a doctrinal reset that prioritizes lethality, fast decision cycles, and the overwhelming benefit of the doubt to US troops when genuine mistakes occur in good faith.

Rename the Department

As a symbol with teeth, he proposes returning “Department of Defense” to “War Department.” It communicates the telos: to deter by being supremely capable of waging and winning wars. If you do that well, peace follows. If you do it performatively, war comes.

Hegseth doesn’t dismiss just war theory; he rejects its misapplication. He sketches the classical frame (Augustine, Just War; jus ad bellum/jus in bello) and the Geneva Conventions’ logic (uniformed combatants, POW protections). The operational problem today: adversaries exploit those rules—fighting out of uniform, hiding among civilians, ensuring our ROE hamper us while theirs are nonexistent.

Rules of Engagement in the Real World

In Baghdad, a JAG brief told Hegseth’s platoon they couldn’t engage an enemy with an RPG unless it was actively aimed at them. He told his men the only safe rule was to engage clear threats before they fired—backed by then-Col. (later Brig. Gen.) Michael Steele’s “kill coin” ethos for destroying enemy forces. The point wasn’t license; it was survival. Split-second hesitation costs lives. Misapplied caution—especially by leaders far from the line—pushes that cost downward onto 19-year-olds.

The New Presumption

He flags a 2023 policy shift in which the US adopted a presumption that “persons and objects in combat zones” are civilians unless proven otherwise. In complex terrain against hybrid enemies, that presumption increases hesitation and post-hoc legal jeopardy. He calls for a doctrinal reset that prioritizes lethality, fast decision cycles, and the overwhelming benefit of the doubt to US troops when genuine mistakes occur in good faith.

Rename the Department

As a symbol with teeth, he proposes returning “Department of Defense” to “War Department.” It communicates the telos: to deter by being supremely capable of waging and winning wars. If you do that well, peace follows. If you do it performatively, war comes.

If you want a different military in 10–20 years, change who becomes an officer today and what they’re taught. Hegseth argues that’s precisely what happened as elite universities and then-service academies embraced identity frameworks—and as generals marinated in those frameworks. He illustrates this with cases at both ends of the pipeline.

Elena Kagan and DADT

As a Harvard grad student, Hegseth testified against then–Supreme Court nominee Elena Kagan for barring military recruiters from Harvard Law over Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell—though DADT was a law passed by Congress and signed by President Clinton, whose staff Kagan previously joined. The critique wasn’t narrow policy; it was that elite gatekeepers treated the military as the moral inferior—okay to ostracize, while welcoming Saudi-funded chairs despite Saudi Arabia’s anti-gay laws. He now sees DADT’s repeal not as an endpoint but as a foothold that opened the door to the broader gender agenda (a view echoed by some activists who wanted open service but not today’s medicalized policies).

CQ Brown’s Quotas and Readiness

He highlights Air Force Chief of Staff (now JCS Chairman) Gen. C.Q. Brown’s 2022 memo setting “applicant pool goals” by race and instructing organizations to craft plans to hit them. Pair that with lagging mission-capable rates for F-22s (~50%) and F-35s (~68%) under Brown, and Hegseth sees a pattern: success equals demographic parity rather than aircraft ready to fly and fight. (Note: Brown argues a “holistic” readiness view; Hegseth calls that word “Latin for bullshit.”)

Service Academies and the BOV Purge

He documents West Point’s Diversity & Inclusion Studies minor, DEI-saturated lectures (e.g., “mom and dad” labeled divisive at USAFA), and a 2021 Biden-era suspension and repopulation of the legally chartered Boards of Visitors—removing Trump appointees and adding subcommittees outside the 1972 charter. Alumni like LtG Thomas McInerney and MG Paul Vallely issued a public “Declaration of Betrayal,” warning CRT frames displace the Declaration and Constitution as the lodestars of service.

Affirmative Action and the Military Carveout

After Students for Fair Admissions v. Harvard (2023) ended race-based admissions at universities, the Supreme Court declined to immediately halt West Point’s use of race pending litigation, leaving a practical carveout. The administration defended race-conscious policies as a “national security imperative.” Hegseth’s rejoinder: merit is the security imperative; race-balancing is politics.

If you want a different military in 10–20 years, change who becomes an officer today and what they’re taught. Hegseth argues that’s precisely what happened as elite universities and then-service academies embraced identity frameworks—and as generals marinated in those frameworks. He illustrates this with cases at both ends of the pipeline.

Elena Kagan and DADT

As a Harvard grad student, Hegseth testified against then–Supreme Court nominee Elena Kagan for barring military recruiters from Harvard Law over Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell—though DADT was a law passed by Congress and signed by President Clinton, whose staff Kagan previously joined. The critique wasn’t narrow policy; it was that elite gatekeepers treated the military as the moral inferior—okay to ostracize, while welcoming Saudi-funded chairs despite Saudi Arabia’s anti-gay laws. He now sees DADT’s repeal not as an endpoint but as a foothold that opened the door to the broader gender agenda (a view echoed by some activists who wanted open service but not today’s medicalized policies).

CQ Brown’s Quotas and Readiness

He highlights Air Force Chief of Staff (now JCS Chairman) Gen. C.Q. Brown’s 2022 memo setting “applicant pool goals” by race and instructing organizations to craft plans to hit them. Pair that with lagging mission-capable rates for F-22s (~50%) and F-35s (~68%) under Brown, and Hegseth sees a pattern: success equals demographic parity rather than aircraft ready to fly and fight. (Note: Brown argues a “holistic” readiness view; Hegseth calls that word “Latin for bullshit.”)

Service Academies and the BOV Purge

He documents West Point’s Diversity & Inclusion Studies minor, DEI-saturated lectures (e.g., “mom and dad” labeled divisive at USAFA), and a 2021 Biden-era suspension and repopulation of the legally chartered Boards of Visitors—removing Trump appointees and adding subcommittees outside the 1972 charter. Alumni like LtG Thomas McInerney and MG Paul Vallely issued a public “Declaration of Betrayal,” warning CRT frames displace the Declaration and Constitution as the lodestars of service.

Affirmative Action and the Military Carveout

After Students for Fair Admissions v. Harvard (2023) ended race-based admissions at universities, the Supreme Court declined to immediately halt West Point’s use of race pending litigation, leaving a practical carveout. The administration defended race-conscious policies as a “national security imperative.” Hegseth’s rejoinder: merit is the security imperative; race-balancing is politics.

Hegseth frames the oath soldiers take as a covenantal promise—echoing Israel’s biblical covenants and America’s constitutional compact. You swear to defend the Constitution against all enemies, foreign and domestic. If leaders prioritize party, optics, or ideology over that oath, the covenant frays. His claim: that is what’s happened. The fix starts with re-centering the oath and tearing down the idols within the camp.

The Gideon Template

Before Gideon routed Midian’s army, he tore down his own village’s Asherah pole—confronting internal apostasy first. Hegseth uses that image to argue the military must destroy false gods—race essentialism, gender ideology, careerist cowardice—before it can face real enemies. “Summer soldiers and sunshine patriots” won’t do. The good news: you don’t need 32,000 to win; 300 courageous men with the right cause can rout chaos.

Practical Reforms

His agenda is unapologetic: fire failed senior leaders; impose a 10-year ban on post-retirement defense-industry jobs for generals; scrap DEI bureaucracies; end race-based admissions and promotion goals; stop identity-PR and restore hard standards; reallocate training hours back to gunnery, maneuver, and maintenance; rewrite ROE to favor US troops’ survival; and rebuild a culture that honors battlefield competence over bureaucratic compliance.

Don’t Abandon the Force

Despite his anger, Hegseth warns against “retreating” from service. If only activists’ recruits fill the ranks, the Republic loses its immune system and eventually turns the military inward on citizens. He calls on parents and young men to consider elite combat units—where merit still largely rules—and to bring faith, grit, and constitutional clarity with them. (This echoes Samuel Huntington’s The Soldier and the State on the need for a distinct, apolitical military ethic anchored in constitutionalism.)

Hegseth frames the oath soldiers take as a covenantal promise—echoing Israel’s biblical covenants and America’s constitutional compact. You swear to defend the Constitution against all enemies, foreign and domestic. If leaders prioritize party, optics, or ideology over that oath, the covenant frays. His claim: that is what’s happened. The fix starts with re-centering the oath and tearing down the idols within the camp.

The Gideon Template

Before Gideon routed Midian’s army, he tore down his own village’s Asherah pole—confronting internal apostasy first. Hegseth uses that image to argue the military must destroy false gods—race essentialism, gender ideology, careerist cowardice—before it can face real enemies. “Summer soldiers and sunshine patriots” won’t do. The good news: you don’t need 32,000 to win; 300 courageous men with the right cause can rout chaos.

Practical Reforms

His agenda is unapologetic: fire failed senior leaders; impose a 10-year ban on post-retirement defense-industry jobs for generals; scrap DEI bureaucracies; end race-based admissions and promotion goals; stop identity-PR and restore hard standards; reallocate training hours back to gunnery, maneuver, and maintenance; rewrite ROE to favor US troops’ survival; and rebuild a culture that honors battlefield competence over bureaucratic compliance.

Don’t Abandon the Force

Despite his anger, Hegseth warns against “retreating” from service. If only activists’ recruits fill the ranks, the Republic loses its immune system and eventually turns the military inward on citizens. He calls on parents and young men to consider elite combat units—where merit still largely rules—and to bring faith, grit, and constitutional clarity with them. (This echoes Samuel Huntington’s The Soldier and the State on the need for a distinct, apolitical military ethic anchored in constitutionalism.)