Tag: Hegseth

Posted on

Pentagon Briefing Erupts After Hegseth Suggests Trump Ally Should Take Over CNN

A Pentagon press briefing on the escalating war with Iran took an unexpected turn when Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth veered off script and lashed out at the press—specifically CNN—after being pressed about reports that the Trump administration had underestimated Iran’s response to U.S. strikes. What began as a routine question about strategy in the Strait of Hormuz quickly turned into a remarkable moment of political commentary from a sitting defense secretary.

The exchange centered on a CNN report citing sources who said U.S. officials had not fully anticipated how aggressively Iran might move to disrupt shipping through the Strait of Hormuz following American military action. The waterway is one of the world’s most critical energy chokepoints, carrying a large share of global oil shipments, and any disruption has immediate implications for international markets and regional stability. CNN reported that planners in Washington may have underestimated Tehran’s willingness to escalate by threatening maritime traffic, a claim administration officials have strongly rejected. 

Hegseth dismissed the reporting outright as “fake news,” accusing the network of sensationalizing the conflict and misrepresenting the administration’s preparedness. But instead of stopping there, he added a comment that immediately drew attention across political and media circles. Referring to entertainment executive David Ellison—whose company has been linked to a massive media acquisition that could affect CNN’s corporate ownership—Hegseth remarked that “the sooner David Ellison takes over that network, the better.” 

The remark stunned many observers not only because of its tone but also because it appeared to cross an informal line traditionally observed by defense secretaries, who generally avoid commenting on the ownership or editorial direction of major news organizations. Critics immediately pointed out that the comment could be interpreted as signaling a preference for a more politically friendly media landscape—an unusual position for the head of the Pentagon to articulate publicly. Others viewed it as a continuation of the Trump administration’s broader pattern of attacking outlets that publish unfavorable coverage.

Until that moment, speculation about Ellison’s potential influence over CNN had largely remained the subject of media industry analysis rather than open discussion by senior government officials. Ellison, the CEO of Skydance Media and the son of Oracle founder Larry Ellison, has been associated with a sweeping media consolidation deal that could place major news assets under new corporate leadership. Supporters of the transaction say Ellison has pledged to maintain editorial independence, though skeptics worry that the shift could reshape the network’s tone or priorities. 

Hegseth’s off-the-cuff endorsement effectively injected the Pentagon into that debate. For critics, the comment sounded less like a passing remark and more like an acknowledgment—intentional or not—that some figures within the administration expect or hope for a friendlier editorial posture from major news organizations once ownership changes hands. That perception alone has already intensified scrutiny of the proposed deal and raised fresh questions about how political power and media ownership intersect in the current environment.

The broader context makes the moment even more striking. Since the start of the Iran conflict, administration officials have repeatedly accused major media outlets of undermining public confidence in the war effort by focusing on intelligence assessments, civilian impacts, or strategic miscalculations. Hegseth himself has frequently clashed with reporters at briefings, often framing critical coverage as evidence of institutional bias rather than legitimate scrutiny. This latest episode appeared to follow the same pattern but escalated it by introducing the issue of media ownership.

It also underscores the unusual political style that Hegseth has brought to the Pentagon. A former television commentator before entering government, he has often used press conferences not only to deliver updates on military operations but also to wage rhetorical battles with reporters and news organizations. That approach has energized supporters who see him as pushing back against hostile media coverage, while critics argue it blurs the line between military leadership and partisan messaging.

Whether the remark will have consequences remains unclear. In previous administrations, a defense secretary publicly cheering for a specific corporate owner of a major news network might have prompted swift internal reprimand. But the Trump administration has often embraced confrontation with the press as a political strategy, meaning the comment could just as easily be dismissed as part of the ongoing media war between the White House and major outlets.

Still, the episode has already achieved one undeniable effect: it has drawn far more attention to Ellison’s potential influence over CNN than industry analysts alone ever could. What had previously been an inside-baseball discussion about corporate mergers and media consolidation is now part of the broader political narrative surrounding the war with Iran and the administration’s relationship with the press.

If anything, Hegseth’s brief aside ensured that the question many observers were quietly asking—what a change in ownership might mean for CNN’s editorial direction—will now be examined far more closely. And whether intentional or not, the defense secretary’s comment has turned that speculation into a matter of national political conversation.

Posted on

The History Of Lies Preceeding Findings Of War Crimes

Please consider $upporting GDPolitics by scanning the QR code below or clicking on this link

An interesting segment on MSNBC’s Last Word dug into what it described as a familiar pattern in U.S. military history: deny wrongdoing first, then slowly acknowledge pieces of the truth once outside evidence becomes impossible to dismiss. Lawrence O’Donnell used the current controversy surrounding Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth’s alleged “boat strikes” in the Caribbean as his launching point, arguing that the initial denials and evasions coming from the Pentagon echo earlier moments when U.S. officials misled the public about military actions that later proved indefensible. O’Donnell’s implication was unmistakable—that when the dust settles, investigators may conclude not only that the strikes were unlawful, but that Hegseth or those operating under his authority initially misrepresented what happened.

O’Donnell’s framing draws on a long and painful history. From the My Lai massacre in Vietnam, to the Pentagon’s early false account of Pat Tillman’s death, to the denials surrounding the Kunduz hospital airstrike in Afghanistan, the United States military has repeatedly issued confident, categorical explanations that later unraveled. The pattern is not merely that the military gets things wrong; it is that it often knows its initial explanations are incomplete or misleading. In the Kunduz case, commanders first claimed that the deadly strike on the Doctors Without Borders hospital was an accident caused by bad intelligence. Later investigations revealed systematic procedural violations and inconsistencies in the official story. In other incidents, the military has been accused of cleaning up sites, withholding footage, or pressuring witnesses—all in the name of preserving institutional credibility. These reversals feed the larger concern O’Donnell was highlighting: when allegations of war crimes arise, the public’s first encounter with them is often a narrative shaped to minimize responsibility.

That context matters in the current debate over the so-called “double tap” strikes. The term refers to a practice—widely condemned by human rights groups—where an initial strike is followed minutes later by a second one timed to hit rescuers rushing to help the wounded. International law experts have long argued that the tactic constitutes a war crime because it intentionally targets medics, civilians, or anyone giving aid. According to MSNBC’s reporting, the controversy swirling around Hegseth includes allegations that at least some of the Caribbean boat strikes may have followed this pattern. Early statements from Defense Department officials reportedly downplayed or denied this, but as often happens, additional footage and testimony have begun to contradict the earliest claims. O’Donnell suggested that even Hegseth’s own language has shifted—initially presenting the strikes as precise, justified, and unambiguous, while later remarks seem more cautious, as if acknowledging that the official story may not hold under scrutiny. Critics note that this rhetorical drift mirrors earlier cases where U.S. officials’ first instinct was to shield themselves rather than openly confront what occurred.

The pressure is not only coming from television pundits. MSNBC has also reported that the family of a Colombian fisherman killed in one of the “narco-terrorist” drone strikes has filed a formal complaint with a Washington, D.C.–based human rights organization. The filing seeks monetary compensation but also demands an end to the drone campaign altogether. More significantly, it accuses Secretary Hegseth of authorizing extrajudicial killing—an allegation that, if taken up by international bodies, could draw the attention of the International Criminal Court or other tribunals. While the ICC rarely targets officials from powerful nations, a complaint of this nature can still generate diplomatic headaches, congressional scrutiny, and sustained media investigation.

What stands out even more is that, despite the deep polarization in Washington, these boat strikes have triggered bipartisan unease. Lawmakers in both parties have struggled to accept the administration’s rationale that small vessels thousands of miles from U.S. shores pose such a grave and imminent threat that the only viable response is to blow them out of the water. Even some Republicans—normally inclined to defend a Republican administration reflexively—are questioning whether the intelligence behind the strikes is as airtight as officials claim. The complaint filed by the fisherman’s family underscores the fragility of the administration’s narrative; if one case unravels, others may follow, and with them the assertion that all strikes have been lawful counter-narco operations rather than disproportionate uses of force.

The open question is whether Secretary Hegseth will adjust course. Will he dial back the strike policy to accommodate bipartisan concerns, or will he press forward under the belief that forceful action now will be vindicated later? The political calculus is complicated by the reality that former President Trump, as a former head of state, will almost certainly remain shielded from any serious war-crimes prosecution; the ICC has historically avoided pursuing former U.S. presidents, and legal scholars widely agree it is unlikely to break that precedent. Hegseth, however, does not enjoy the same protective aura. Officials below the level of head of state have faced international legal jeopardy before, and those in the Trump administration who assume they are untouchable may discover that this confidence is misplaced.

Whether the unfolding controversy becomes another entry in the long ledger of U.S. military denials followed by partial admissions—or something more legally consequential—remains to be seen. But as O’Donnell’s segment underscored, history has taught observers to pay close attention not only to what officials say at the beginning of these crises, but how their stories change once the evidence emerges and the truth becomes harder to hide.