Beneath his clothing lies a secret world of mediaeval beliefs. Tattoos on his chest and biceps include a Jerusalem cross—symbol of the Christian crusaders, sword, rifle, a ‘Join, or die’ rattlesnake from the American revolution and ‘Deus vult’ or ‘God wills it’. A millennium ago, this was the rallying cry of Christian knights as they battled to reclaim Jerusalem from Muslims. More recently, ‘Deus vult’ surfaced on clothing and flags carried by some rioters in the January 6 Capitol attack in Washington.
The man with the tattoos is Pete Hegseth, US secretary of war—or war crimes, say his critics, after an American Tomahawk missile killed 168 schoolgirls in Iran. In an earlier avatar as the US army’s infantry officer in Iraq, Hegseth told soldiers to ignore legal constraints on killing enemy combatants—a war crime. Hegseth is a born-again crusader—in the mediaeval Christian sense of avenging warriors who fought Muslims.
A 2015 whistleblower complaint described a bar incident in Ohio where Hegseth, allegedly intoxicated, publicly chanted “Kill All Muslims”. Published in 2020, his book is called American Crusade. As in the 11th century so in the 21st. As war secretary, Hegseth transformed the Pentagon into a staging arena for the Iran war, which he pledged America will win because “the Almighty is on our side”. America will protect the world from the “evil” regime with its “rats” and “madmen”.
Pete Hegseth, US secretary of war | Reuters
In 2024, skeletons came tumbling from Hegseth’s closet when Trump nominated him as defence secretary. His lawyer dismissed the allegations as a “coordinated smear campaign”. Investigating his background, The New Yorker magazine reported that Hegseth was forced to resign from leadership roles in two veterans’ non-profit organisations for financial mismanagement, drunkenness and sexual improprieties.
In yet another avatar, Hegseth was a Fox News TV anchor. His former colleagues reported he was often hungover at work, sometimes so “blackout drunk”, he needed to be carried to his hotel room or pulled down from clambering on to the stage. Hegseth admitted paying $50,000 to a woman who accused him of rape in 2017. In a 2018 email, Hegseth’s mother, Penelope, rebuked her thrice-married, philandering son—“You are an abuser of women—that is the ugly truth and I have no respect for any man that belittles, lies, cheats, sleeps around and uses women for his own ego.”
In his Iran war media conferences, Hegseth is less the solemn leader of the world’s most powerful military and more the gung-ho gunslinger starring in video games that splices Hollywood film clips with images of white-plumed missiles, menacing bombers, rising black smoke and dazzling pyrotechnics set to sonic boom. He sought to exclude critical mainstream journalists and photographers distributing unflattering photos from Pentagon briefings, replacing them with far-right loyalists. He stares intently into the camera, for effect poses and pauses, then announces hyperbolic bumper-sticker headlines: “Iranian regime is toast”, America is winning—decisively, devastatingly and without mercy”…. “We are punching them while they’re down—exactly how it should be”. Empty of strategic vision or thoughtful assessments, Hegseth’s combative grandstanding appears cocky and cavalier to some. But it attracts billions of clicks from young men and MAGA factions.
Christian nationalists and Zionists who support Trump and Hegseth believe the ongoing American-Israeli “holy war” in Iran is “part of God’s plan”, an Armageddon signalling the promised end of the world and the second coming of Jesus Christ. The fulfilment of the prophecy probably includes a halo of orange descending from the heavens, followed by the man with the tattoos.
Pratap is an author and journalist.