Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem has stepped in to right a wrong within the Coast Guard's latest policy misstep.
The Coast Guard quietly rolled out a new workplace harassment policy Monday that softened the classification of swastikas and nooses, labeling them as merely "potentially divisive," The Hill reported. This change sparked immediate backlash from lawmakers who saw it as a dangerous dilution of standards.
Congressional outrage boiled over when the policy took effect despite objections, leading to a hold on Adm. Kevin Lunday's nomination to lead the Coast Guard. Senators from both parties demanded clarity, unwilling to let such symbols be subject to situational interpretation.
Noem announced Thursday via social media that the outdated and divisive language would be entirely scrubbed from the record. While she didn’t specify if new wording would replace it, her decisive action signals a rejection of watered-down definitions.
The controversy erupted after a November report revealed the Coast Guard's plan to downgrade these symbols, allowing supervisors to assess their context rather than ban them outright. Such leniency could have left service members vulnerable to environments tainted by hate under the guise of discretion.
Weeks of turmoil followed, with Adm. Lunday issuing a memo condemning swastikas and nooses and banning them in workplaces. Yet, until Noem’s intervention, that memo failed to overwrite the troubling language in the official manual.
Sen. Tammy Duckworth, in a sharp critique, questioned why Lunday couldn’t simply erase the absurd framing of these symbols as anything less than hateful. Her frustration, echoed by many, cuts to the heart of a bureaucracy too slow to uphold basic decency.
Sen. Jacky Rosen, initially placing a hold on Lunday’s nomination, expressed relief at the policy reversal and agreed to lift her objection. Still, she flagged ongoing concerns by placing a hold on Sean Plankey’s nomination to lead CISA until the policy’s implementation proves effective.
Noem herself called out the political gamesmanship surrounding Lunday’s nomination, praising his nearly 39 years of service. She urged an end to delays, arguing that stalling his confirmation over a now-corrected policy serves no one.
The Trump administration took a swipe at media outlets for what it called false narratives around the policy, though the language did indeed go into effect earlier this week. This points to a broader pattern of deflecting accountability rather than owning the initial failure to act.
Rosen’s statement on social media highlighted a troubling lack of transparency from Coast Guard leadership and DHS during this process. She minced no words in calling their approach evasive, a sentiment shared by those who value straightforward governance over bureaucratic dodging.
Noem’s insistence on removing the outdated pages was framed as a safeguard against misrepresentation by the press or politicians. Her move suggests a push to refocus on the Coast Guard’s mission, not on symbolic missteps exploited for partisan gain.
This episode lays bare a disconnect between policy drafters and the values service members expect to uphold. Letting symbols of hate linger under vague terms risks eroding the trust essential to military cohesion.
Lawmakers’ bipartisan anger shows that some lines should never be blurred, no matter the rationale. The Coast Guard must now ensure its manuals reflect an unflinching stand against hatred, not a loophole for debate.
As Noem and Congress push for clarity, the focus turns to implementation, with eyes on whether this reversal truly protects those in uniform. It’s a chance to rebuild faith in an institution that should stand as a beacon of honor, not a battleground for cultural ambiguity.