Too Cool for the Generals? President Trump and Secretary Hegseth Summon America’s Military Leadership

Too Cool for the Generals? President Trump and Secretary Hegseth Summon America’s Military Leadership

At the end of September 2025, the Quantico military base hosted an unusual gathering—one without recent precedent. Hundreds of American generals and admirals were called together by President Donald Trump and his Defence Secretary, Pete Hegseth. Officially, the event aimed to reaffirm the “core values of the U.S. military” and to promote the Pentagon’s new name, changed by executive order to the Department of War, “because the era of the Department of Defense is over,” in the Administration’s view. Yet the tone and substance of the speeches raised deep concern about institutional subordination and the political direction of the armed forces.

In his address, Hegseth announced ten directives intended to restore what he called “standards of excellence” and end the “cultural war within the military.” The orders included a return to combat discipline, the removal of diversity and gender programs, and an end to what he described as the “war against warriors.” While equalising physical and combat readiness standards for men and women is defensible, the broader rhetoric echoed Project 2025—a conservative policy blueprint that advocates the re-politicisation of federal institutions under executive control.

The new doctrine, summarised under the slogan Train and Maintain, emphasises physical readiness, discipline, and obedience. Hegseth framed soldiers as professionals whose mission is to project intimidation and lethality, promising a return to the ethos of the “true warrior.” It is a nostalgic and militarist vision—one rooted more in the Gulf War era than in the realities of today’s hybrid and asymmetric conflicts.

What unsettled many observers was not only the martial tone but also the appeal to personal loyalty. Hegseth told the assembled officers that they serve at the pleasure of the president, a line that struck some as a challenge to the traditional norm of allegiance to the Constitution rather than to any individual leader. He criticised sections of the officer corps as weak and overly politicised—remarks widely interpreted as a reference to the former Biden administration. Such framing risks discouraging principled dissent and reinforcing loyalty to the executive rather than to the state.

The speech also overlooked the human, intellectual, and post-service dimensions of military life. Reducing soldiers to their combat role—without addressing their psychological, educational, or professional needs during and after service—reflects an outdated understanding of military excellence. Modern armed forces rely not only on toughness but also on judgment, adaptability, and ethical reasoning. With mental-health challenges and suicide rates among veterans already high, recruitment has become an increasingly difficult task for the Pentagon.

President Trump raised the stakes further. He told officers they were free to applaud or to leave if they disagreed, but added that anyone who walked out would be ending their career, “If you don’t like what I’m saying, you can leave the room. Of course, there goes your rank, there goes your future, but you just feel nice and loose, OK?”

Donald Trump warned that the military must be ready to fight “the enemy within,” a reference widely understood as targeting domestic protest movements. He followed, “we should use some of these dangerous cities as training grounds for our military … We’re under invasion from within. No different than a foreign enemy.”

In the United States, reactions were muted, largely confined to military and policy circles. Yet for societies that have seen leaders turn their armies inward, such statements are early warning signs. History offers sobering examples: Saddam Hussein’s 1988 use of chemical weapons against Kurdish civilians; Muammar Gaddafi’s 2011 vow to hunt protesters “street by street, house by house”; and, in Romania, the tanks that rolled through Bucharest in December 1989.

Trump’s ambition, however, seems less to emulate these autocrats than to follow the path of Latin America’s new “strong but modern” populists—above all El Salvador’s Nayib Bukele. Like Bukele, Trump cultivates the image of a “cool dictator”: decisive, media-savvy, and unflinching. Bukele’s war on gangs produced visible security gains but at the cost of judicial independence, media freedom, and constitutional limits on re-election. Under a prolonged state of emergency, tens of thousands were detained without trial, and the line between police and military power blurred—an approach later mirrored in Mexico and Ecuador amid spiralling violence.

Politically, Trump remains a shrewd tactician. His occasional hints about a possible third term are less declarations than tests of public reaction. The real questions are not whether he will attempt to extend his presidency, but whether—by the time this term ends—he will have reshaped the military enough for it to stay silent if he does. 

This article was originally published on in Romanian, on Republica.ro: Prea „cool” pentru generali? Președintele Trump și Secretarul pentru Apărare convoacă liderii armatei americane