An Oath is a Terrible Thing

Why Former Major Nidal Hasan Must Be Executed

Lately, the digital noise machine has been spinning up another round of breathless commentary regarding the execution of Former Major Nidal Hasan via a public military firing squad. Some of it, naturally, is in response to Kurt Schlichter’s commentary on the topic. Schlichter is a retired Army Colonel and combat veteran, and that should hold some extra weight on the topic. But, of course, everybody with an internet connection and a keyboard seems ready to play armchair JAG officer, dropping hot takes on what will or won’t happen when the execution order eventually drops.

Outside of the senior military leadership and the Commandant at the United States Disciplinary Barracks at Leavenworth, however, nobody actually knows the exact operational mechanics. Army Regulation 190-55, which governs executions, remains a restricted, classified regulation for a reason. But beneath the armchair punditry lies a much deeper, more fundamental question about what military service actually means, what an oath costs, and why certain reckonings cannot simply be swept under a bureaucratic rug.

The Legal and Institutional Realities

First, the baseline facts under the Uniform Code of Military Justice, which is the law that governs the US Military. The convening authority at Fort Hood, a place whose historic name should never have been discarded for political convenience, properly exercised jurisdiction over Former Major Hasan. A man who chose to wage Islamic Jihad from inside the Army against his fellow soldiers. This is why the execution is taking place at Fort Hood. The convening authority of the general court-martial is the Commander of Fort Hood, not the Disciplinary Barracks Commandant.

When Hasan was convicted by a general court-martial in 2013, the sentence handed down included the forfeiture of all pay and allowances, death by execution, incarceration at the USDB at Leavenworth pending final sentence, and dismissal from the service. Contrary to casual assumptions (my own included), that dismissal did not coincide with the act of execution nor with the act of the crimes. Rather, his dismissal was a matter of fact on the day of his conviction.

It’s important to recall that only the Army, Congress, or specific high-level Federal authorities can formally relieve a soldier of their obligations. The individual can only relieve themself of the oath through honorably discharging their duties and their commission or enlistment. At the exact moment he opened fire on unarmed troops, Hasan was bound by his commission and his oath. The Army finally stripped him of his office, severing the bond of the oath he had already shattered into dust. Today, his correct designation is Inmate Hasan, or Former Major Hasan. He no longer is bound by oath, but Inmate Hasan also no longer enjoys any of the privileges and benefits of a commissioned officer of the United States.

The Public Square and History

Critics of a public and transparent execution will invoke modern sensibilities, claiming that public justice belongs in a medieval past. To some extent, they are right. An execution that becomes a circus, jeering, throwing fruit and rocks at the condemned, and street vendors and prostitutes making money at the edge of the crowd, certainly belongs in 1600, not 2026. And by 1937, most US states had phased out public gallow-scaffold spectacles, transitioning hangings and executions behind prison walls while retaining official witnesses to ensure accountability.

But no such statutory ban exists at the Federal civilian or military level. The manner, date, and time of a military execution are authorized by the executive branch. Naturally, the usual crowd is already preparing 8th Amendment challenges, screaming about “cruel and unusual punishment” at the very suggestion of a firing squad or a digital town square.

They claim to object to the method or the optics, but we live in a culture that mainline-streams stylized, graphic violence 24/7. People gorge on fictional carnage … from John Wick headshots to endless cinematic chaos … without blinking an eye. They do not object to violence; they object to reality. They love the sanitized, Hollywood version of conflict because it has zero moral weight. But the moment real accountability touches the physical world, they demand it be hidden away in a classified annex at Leavenworth so they can pretend the dark edges of the universe don’t exist.

The Real Objection

Let’s call the opposition’s bluff. Let’s do what the President has done and authorize an execution by firing squad on date certain to be live streamed so that the world can bear witness. Because the real objection isn’t about whether a firing squad is too archaic or whether a livestream turns justice into a pay-per-view circus.

The real objection is that a significant segment of the population does not believe Former Major Hasan should be executed at all. And among those who concede he deserves death, a vocal faction insists that any public witness of that death is inherently “cruel and unusual.” They want the monster put down, but they want it done quietly, off-camera, and out of mind, ensuring that civilization’s plumbing remains safely out of sight.

They forget what old soldiers have always known: Tommy bears the weight so the comfortable can sleep. And when the system must execute its ultimate duty, hiding it away breeds institutional rot.

The Terrible Weight of the Oath

An oath is a terrible thing. Not terrible in malice, but terrible in its awe-inspiring, crushing gravity. The Soldier or Officer is bound by it thoroughly and cannot forswear the oath. Else it would be meaningless. When you break the oath, there are consequences.

When an officer raises his right hand, the oath explicitly binds him: “I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion.” There are no loopholes, no tactical retreats into plausible deniability, and no escape clauses. And the oath is taken before God …. it ends with So help me god. The Creator is invoked as witness, guide, and final judge of your oath. This is a terrible, powerful thing.

Former Major Hasan didn’t just break the laws of the land; he enacted an oath-breaking of catastrophic proportions. He turned his weapons on his own brothers and sisters in arms, murdering fellow soldiers, including a pregnant female soldier who begged for her unborn child’s life, while harboring a secret, treasonous reservation of heart. Killing your fellow soldiers, the very people you are explicitly bound by oath to protect and lead, is a crime beyond ordinary civilian treason. It is a desecration of the sacred covenant.

When a man invokes God as witness to an oath of absolute loyalty and then commits mass murder from within the ranks, he brings down an eternal doom upon himself. The military justice system may take its agonizing time, but the moral ledger remains absolute.

For the survivors, for the wounded, including men I served alongside, and for an institution built on trust, the execution of Former Major Hasan must not be whispered away in a dark corner. It belongs in the light. It is the final, binding discharge of an oath he broke, executed in the modern public square where the tribe can bear witness and close the book.

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Further Reading

• Danny Deever, Rudyard Kipling - a poem of the execution of a soldier that murder his comrade in arms

• Chapter 9 of The Silmarillion, titled "Of the Flight of the Noldor", J.R.R. Tolkien - detailing the Oath of Fëanor and it’s terrible power

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