The Hegseth Unknown Soldier tomb incident strikes me as making something a bit too holy.

That is a sharp observation—and one that gets right to the heart of how modern democracies construct civil religion.

When you strip away the political theater of the last two days (the viral clip of the sentinel barking at Pete Hegseth’s group for laughing after a photo op, followed immediately by Hegseth pinning a Joint Service Commendation Medal on the soldier), what you are looking at is an elaborate ritual of state sacralization.

In anthropology and sociology, this is classic civil religion—the process by which a secular nation takes historical events, political symbols, and military sacrifices and elevates them to the status of the sacred, complete with priesthoods, liturgies, and strict taboos against desecration.

Several layers of this ritual stand out:

  • The Invention of Strict Liturgies: The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier started after World War I as a fairly straightforward memorial. The hyper-precise, 24/7 ritual—21 steps, 21-second pauses, white gloves, exact heel clicks, and vocal admonishments—wasn't established until 1948. Over decades, the military and the public collectively turned a grave marker into an altar where even an involuntary chuckle is treated as a minor sacrilege.

  • The Theater of the Reprimand: Sentinels actually rebuke tourists two or three times a day for talking or crossing a line. When it happens to an ordinary family from Ohio, it’s a viral curiosity about military discipline. When it happens to the Secretary of Defense—especially one who styles himself as a warrior-traditionalist—it becomes a political Rorschach test. Critics treat the laugh as proof of moral unfitness, while Hegseth turns around and awards the guard a medal to prove his own devotion to "standards". Both sides are competing to show who reveres the sacred space more.

  • The Paradox of Memorializing War: There is an inherent tension in making war memorials too holy. On one hand, solemnity prevents the horror of anonymous death in war from being trivialized into a casual photo backdrop. On the other hand, elevating military sacrifice into an untouchable, quasi-religious dogma can sanitize the brutal reality of war—turning a sobering reminder of human cost into a gleaming monument to state power and obedience.

In most societies, funerals and cemeteries allow for a mix of grief, quiet conversation, and even the occasional release of tension through laughter. By enforcing absolute, pin-drop silence and rigid choreography, Arlington turns human mourning into a high-stakes performance of national piety.

Do you find the rigid ritual around the Tomb itself a bit overdone, or was it more the public outcry and the medal-pinning afterward that struck you as excessive?

Although I don't like Hegseth one bit, and think the party should have known better, it was way overdone for politics.

You’ve hit on the exact mechanism that turns a minor etiquette lapse into a full-blown political spectacle: weaponized decorum.

When a figure is already polarizing, every minor misstep stops being a human error and gets drafted into a much larger political war. As PBS NewsHour and CBS News noted in their coverage of the November 11 incident, the reprimand itself is completely routine—Army sentinels at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier call out visitors two or three times a day for talking or laughing. Ordinarily, it’s a brief, awkward moment and everyone moves on.

What turned this into an outsized political event was the timing and the surrounding stakes:

  • The Impeachment Backdrop: As PBS NewsHour and Military Times reported, the Veterans Day photo op happened just one day after the House narrowly voted to table an impeachment resolution against Hegseth over his handling of the conflict in Iran, with Democrats signaling they plan to revive the effort in January. Because critics were already arguing he lacked the temperament and fitness for the office, a viral clip of him and his aides laughing at Arlington became an irresistible, easily digestible symbol to attach to those broader criticisms.

  • The Counter-Performance: Rather than letting the awkward moment fade, Hegseth escalated the theater the next day by awarding Specialist Thomas Iglesias the Joint Service Commendation Medal—an award PBS NewsHour notes is relatively high-level and rarely given to junior enlisted soldiers—accompanied by a social media post praising "standards" and "Patriots".

In that sense, both the outrage and the damage control fed off each other. Critics treated a brief laugh after a photo as a profound moral indictment, while Hegseth turned a routine correction into a formal medal ceremony to project respect for military discipline. When politics is that polarized, neither side can afford to treat a minor human slip as just a minor human slip—everything has to be blown up to maximum symbolic volume.

Well the guy did deserve that medal.

There is a strong case to be made for that—even if the ceremony around it had political overtones, Specialist Thomas Iglesias was put in a remarkably high-pressure spot and handled it strictly by the book.

As Pentagon spokesman Sean Parnell noted following the incident, Iglesias "correctly and respectfully reminded everyone to maintain decorum". In a rigidly hierarchical institution like the U.S. military, a junior enlisted soldier (an E-4) publicly correcting the Secretary of Defense—the highest-ranking civilian official in the Pentagon—and his senior leadership team in front of cameras requires real institutional discipline.

At the same time, military observers and news reports point out why the award itself sparked conversation:

  • Why it makes sense: Sentinel duty in the 3rd U.S. Infantry Regiment ("The Old Guard") is built on the principle that the Tomb's standards apply equally to everyone, regardless of rank or title. By treating the Secretary of Defense's entourage the exact same way he would treat any other visitors, Iglesias upheld the core ethos of his unit without flinching.

  • Why the medal stood out: As PBS NewsHour and Deutsche Welle noted, the Joint Service Commendation Medal is a relatively high-level decoration that is normally awarded for sustained meritorious service in a joint-military assignment rather than a single routine duty action, and it is rarely issued to junior enlisted service members.

So while the Defense Secretary clearly used the moment to defuse a viral PR headache, the soldier himself simply did his job under extraordinary pressure—and walking away with a commendation for enforcing the rules on his own boss is hard to begrudge.


Gemini is AI and can make mistakes.