Major Nidal Hasan is a proper monster. He lacks the vision or ambition of a Stalin or a Hitler. He also doesn’t seem to possess the same sort of dysfunctional source code as did Jeffrey Dahmer—the alpha cannibal. Hasan is a different sort of psychopath. He was cultivated.
To put it in natural terms, Major Hasan was a phasmid. A phasmid is an insect of the order Phasmatodea. Examples include the stick bug or creatures that look like leaves. Their superpower is the capacity to pass themselves off as something they are not. Hasan used his unique capacity for camouflage to murder his own kind.
The Beast
Major Nidal Malik Hasan was born in Arlington County, Virginia, in 1970. His parents were naturalized Palestinians who raised him a devout Muslim.
In 1988, Hasan enlisted in the U.S. Army and eventually earned a spot in USUHS, the Uniformed Services University of the Health Sciences—Uncle Sam’s military medical school.
Hasan was a marginal medical student, spending a fair amount of time on academic probation. He graduated the four-year course in six and completed a residency in psychiatry at Walter Reed.
He then assumed responsibility for helping integrate emotionally-broken combat veterans back into society. Throughout it all, colleagues voiced quiet concerns that Major Hasan just didn’t much care for America or Americans.
The Rampage
On November 5, 2009, Major Hasan showed up at the Fort Hood Soldier Readiness Processing Site with a 5.7x28mm FN Five-seveN pistol.
When he bought the gun three months before, he had asked the guys at the gun shop for, “The most technologically advanced weapon on the market and the one with the highest standard magazine capacity.” Hasan entered the building, bowed his head cryptically, shouted, “Allahu Akbar!” and opened fire.
Hasan shot 32 people. The 14 dead included one unborn baby. Active duty soldiers were all unarmed per standing regulations. A responding civilian police officer shot Hasan five times and finally ended the fight.
Hasan was rendered paraplegic—paralyzed from the waist down and confined to a wheelchair. He was convicted of premeditated murder and sentenced to death.
He made a huge stink about having to shave his beard for his trial, claiming infringement on his religious rights. Hasan currently resides on death row at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. His final appeal was exhausted in March of 2025 when the U.S. Supreme Court refused to hear his case. Secretary of War Pete Hegseth has publicly stated that it is time for Nidal Hasan to die.
Convicted murderer Nidal Hasan.
The Death House
I once spent three months at Fort Leavenworth. Relax, I was there for an Army school, not a criminal sentence. However, I did get to tour the prison. That included the very place the monster will meet his god should Uncle Sam follow through on his threats. It was a profoundly moving experience.
Everything about the process is codified into a Standard Operating Procedure. Nobody has to think. In my day it was a big three-ring binder. I’m sure it is computerized now. When it is time, the prison staff just opens up the book and does what it says.
Twenty-four hours prior to execution, the prison SWAT team secures the prisoner and moves him to a holding cell.
The convict has no input whatsoever. For a full day, three shifts’ worth of MPs stare at him to make sure he doesn’t kill himself before the government gets its chance. That’s where he takes his last meal. A couple of hours before the big event, the SWAT team shows up again and walks/drags the condemned down a series of stone steps to the place of execution.
Details
The actual room has one-way glass on two sides. One facet is for government witnesses. The other is for victims’ families. The interior walls are covered in soundproofing material. The table has arm supports like a Christian cross with heavy, leather restraints aplenty.
Once the man is strapped down, Army medics start two large-bore IV lines. These lines disappear into holes in the wall. Physicians take no part as that would violate the Hippocratic Oath.
On the other side of the wall, there are two matching closets. The fixtures seemed relatively crude, having been crafted by the prisoners themselves.
In each closet is a holder for an IV bottle. One includes normal saline. The other contains some lethal concoction. They are held in the fixtures upside down. There is a red and a green light in each little room. This is where the two executioners work.
Outside, there are five sequential landline telephones. This is so that, should there be a last-minute stay, word will get through no matter what. The ceiling is made from those ubiquitous acoustic ceiling tiles. This is the last thing the condemned man will ever see.
Hanging from the ceiling is a small microphone. The prison warden reads out the charges and then starts a watch. The convict has three minutes to say anything he wants, then the warden leaves…even if he’s not done talking. The lights change, and the executioners flip the bottles. When the monster dies, he dies alone.
Ruminations
I naturally stretched out on the table and stared at the ceiling, imagining what that might feel like for real. It seemed a bit like being at the dentist. You’d want to be anyplace in the world but there.
It doesn’t matter how bad a man you are or what brought you there. I suspect the utter helplessness of the thing would strip a guy of any bravado or swagger. Major Nidal Malik Hasan will likely soon get to put that hypothesis to the test. May the One True God have mercy on his soul, because the United States of America most certainly will not.