In Washington, there is a rare kind of bewilderment these days: How is it possible that Pete Hegseth is still standing as the Pentagon secretary?
Especially when so many, from Hegseth’s fiercest critics to his most ardent backers, seem to agree: he is a mess.
Indeed, any of his advocates acknowledge Hegseth is personally struggling. But they remain determined to prop him up, to ‘get him the help he needs,’ rather than watch him fall. And his defenders hail from the highest heights.
Vice President JD Vance has been devoting precious bandwidth to supporting Hegseth, and Donald Trump himself is resolute: he will not allow his adversaries in the Republican ranks to claim a scalp. Capitol Hill Republicans quietly concede that — so long as the Pentagon continues to operate with relative smoothness—they will tolerate the behind-the-scenes volatility.
The latest Daily Mail exposé illustrates why the unease is so visceral. Pentagon insiders say Hegseth is exhibiting erratic behavior, including agitated pacing, ‘crawling out of his skin,’ and ‘manic’ meltdowns. Hegseth’s wife, Jennifer Rauchet, has been drawn into internal controversies, the report says. (Hegseth’s office denounced the accounts as fictional, but the whispers in DC suggest the report is being taken seriously in political and media circles.)
Such stories have a way of eroding confidence, especially in an institution such as the Pentagon that thrives on regulation and certainty. But here’s the paradox: even critics concede that Hegseth is not wholly failing. His tough, Trumpian agenda — the purge of officers, the push for more muscular standards in fitness and discipline, the reframing of the Pentagon as a more steely and aggressive apparatus — continues to march forward. In that sense, he is doing the job. The question is: at what cost?
This week’s marquee event — Trump’s address to military leaders summoned to Marine Corps Base Quantico — underscores the risky tightrope Hegseth walks. In that gathering, hundreds of generals and admirals were flown in from around the world at short notice. The meeting rang alarm bells for its theatricality, cost and security risk.
Disquieting optics aside, Trump’s remarks in Quantico struck the tone the administration wants: confrontational, unapologetic, determined. ‘If you don’t like what I’m saying, you can leave the room,’ he told the audience, adding with a mock flourish, ‘there goes your rank, there goes your future.’ He also reiterated his support for the top brass: ‘I am with you. I support you, and as president, I have your backs 100 percent.’
Indeed, any of his advocates acknowledge Hegseth is personally struggling. But they remain determined to prop him up, to ‘get him the help he needs,’ rather than watch him fall
His tough, Trumpian agenda continues to march forward. In that sense, he is doing the job. The question is: at what cost?
For Pete Hegseth, this event was exactly the political cover he needed. But for the old-school defense establishment, it felt like a warning shot: speak freely at your peril.
Within Republican circles, one senior Capitol Hill figure told me the mood is one of weary acceptance: ‘As long as the job is getting done,’ said the source, ‘they have resigned themselves to the drama.’ That is a telling admission. It implies that for many in the administration enduring the current chaos is less frightening than watching Hegseth literally collapse or be forced out.
A grimmer critique has come from media voices. One Fox News host, speaking of Hegseth’s shaky performance under pressure, noted that ‘hosting Fox & Friends … on the weekend is not the same thing as running the Pentagon.’ The implication is unambiguous: sitting at a cozy TV desk offering on-camera punditry is not proper training for managing the military’s myriad, life-or-death complexities.
Inside the White House, the posture is slightly more charitable, but hardly naïve. A Trump-administration source told me privately, ‘Pete can be a heavy lift, but the decision has been made to lift him as needed.’ In other words, the White House has accepted that Hegseth will indeed stumble but is prepared to bolster him when he does.
What keeps Hegseth in place? The answer lies in a mix of politics and necessity. Trump cannot afford to appear weak or to give his internal opponents a victory. Republicans who would prefer to see new Pentagon leadership are held at bay by the risk of internal fracturing. Vance, a key ally, has so far shielded Hegseth from concerted ouster efforts. And for many in the defense community, it’s easier to bargain with an imperfect secretary than to endure a sudden vacancy in the Pentagon’s leadership. And, perhaps most of all, Hegseth is well liked.
Still, the gamble has of late become more perilous. Hegseth’s recent draconian changes — demanding that all combat troops meet ‘male-level’ physical standards, lambasting ‘fat generals,’ and eliminating beard allowances — are stoking tensions. The more ambitious parts of his National Defense Strategy pivot — drawing down certain overseas commitments, shifting emphasis toward homeland defense — have unsettled senior officers who fear the US is ceding important ground on China and NATO.
Worse, the rampant leaks, Hegseth’s Signal chat scandal, and brisk staff turnover have left the Pentagon’s reputation battered.
In short, much of Washington waits—aghast, frustrated, incredulous — as a man who seems to even some in the administration to be in over his head continues to occupy one of the nation’s most consequential jobs. Hegseth’s allies insist that he is salvageable, that what he needs is guidance and steadiness, not a coup. His detractors, forced to live with the fallout, warn that every successive crisis chips away at the Pentagon’s cohesion.
One day, Trump may decide the gamble is no longer worth it. But until then, Capitol Hill, the military, the press corps, and increasingly curious civilians—are stuck in the same uneasy question: How much damage will be done before the façade cracks?
