Kristi Noem, the first Cabinet member to be fired in Donald Trump’s second term, achieved that distinction by edging out several male colleagues, all of whom have committed misdeeds at least as egregious as Noem’s numerous failings of conduct and judgment. The fact that the first casualty in the Cabinet happened to be the woman in charge of the Department of Homeland Security, rather than, for example, the man who runs the FBI, the Department of War, or the Department of Health and Human Services, is probably coincidental, and unrelated to any prejudice that might reside deep within Mr. Trump’s mysterious psyche. If asked who is more trustworthy and capable, or who more admirably represents the principles and values of a functioning democracy, we would be hard-pressed to single out one person among the ragged crew of Noem, Patel, Hegseth, and Kennedy. Not one of them stands out in any substantive way from the others. They are equally odious.
So why was Noem the first to be fired? It was not because ICE agents overseen by her killed two U.S. citizens, one of whom, according to Noem, had attempted to run over an agent with her car before she was shot and killed. Noem’s ill-considered misstatement that Renee Good had committed “an act of domestic terrorism,” was promptly debunked by the video evidence, but Noem kept her job. Nor was the firing a result of her shameless posing at an El Salvador prison, sporting a $50K Rolex watch, or the purchase, with American taxpayer dollars, of a $70 million luxury jet, complete with bedroom, flat screen TV, showers, kitchen and bar, an airplane that she stated was to be used for deporting the “worst of the worst.” No, her firing occurred simply because she had the temerity to testify under oath that Donald Trump had approved a $200 million ad campaign for ICE, starring the always camera-ready Kristi Noem herself, thereby contradicting Trump’s claim that he knew nothing about the massive expenditure for the now celebrated video. It was that lapse in loyalty that put an end to Noem’s tenure as Secretary of DHS, not her appalling job performance.
So in to DHS struts Markwayne Mullin. To his credit, he has never bragged about killing a puppy or a goat, and some allies have noted his capacity to work across the aisle and bring Democrats and Republicans together. Mr. Mullin deserves the chance to use those abilities to effect sorely needed reforms at DHS, but some of his public behavior as a senator should worry us. In a congressional hearing, he challenged a labor union leader to a fist fight, standing up and taking off his ring in preparation for the flying punches soon to come, while exhorting Teamsters President Sean O’Brien to “stand your butt up,” an act of such juvenile braggadocio that the chair of the hearing, Senator Bernie Sanders, was moved to scold Mr. Mullin like a misbehaving schoolboy, saying “Sit down! You’re a United States Senator!” And Mr. Mullin has voiced no regrets about calling Kentucky Sen. Rand Paul “a freaking snake,” and later aligning himself in spirit with Paul’s neighbor, who attacked Sen. Paul outside his home, sending him to the hospital with six broken ribs and a damaged lung. Mr. Mullin’s apparent contention that sometimes “you need to be punched in the face,” may be a useful principle in a martial arts contest, but it hardly seems to be an appropriate professional attribute for the Secretary of Homeland Security. So, as happy and relieved as we may be to finally see the last of Kristi Noem, I caution us about expecting too significant an upgrade. Let’s not celebrate yet.
For now, Markwayne Mullin can flex his muscles and join Hegseth, Kennedy, and Patel in the self-satisfied brotherhood that surrounds the president. We are rooting for Mr. Mullin to restore some restraint and composure to DHS, but the displays of defiant bravado that Mr. Trump so admires might be hard for Mullin to resist. For the purposes of job security, he might do well to focus on the loyalty angle, and to follow Pam Bondi’s example by repeating the dictum, “Donald Trump is the greatest President in the history of the United States.” That kind of talk carries a lot of weight. Until it doesn’t.
Greg Tuleja lives in Southampton.