The United States Army is moving to execute Major Nidal Malik Hasan, the psychiatrist who murdered 13 people and wounded 32 others at Fort Hood, Texas, in November 2009, after the Supreme Court denied his final appeal and the Secretary of Defense formally requested approval from President Donald Trump to carry out the first military execution since 1961.
The decision comes 16 years after Hasan, then a uniformed Army psychiatrist, opened fire inside the Soldier Readiness Processing Center at what was then the largest active-duty military installation in the country. Survivors and families of the dead have waited more than a decade and a half for this moment, but the path to execution has been anything but straightforward.
Hasan, now 55 and paralyzed from the waist down after being shot by responding officers, was convicted by a military jury in 2013 on 45 counts of murder and attempted murder. The jury unanimously sentenced him to death. But the execution was delayed by a series of appeals, including a prolonged legal fight over his beard and his own efforts to represent himself in court.
On March 31, 2025, the U. S. Supreme Court denied his final petition, clearing the way for the Pentagon to proceed.
Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth announced on September 24, 2025, that he was seeking formal execution approval from President Trump. If carried out, Hasan would become the first U. S.
military prisoner executed since 1961, when Army Private John A. Bennett was hanged for rape and attempted murder.
The attack itself was a meticulously planned act of violence. Hasan, a Palestinian-American born in Virginia, had served as an enlisted soldier and later earned a medical degree funded by the Army. He completed his psychiatry residency at Walter Reed Army Medical Center, but his performance was flagged repeatedly by supervisors.
He failed to see the required number of patients, introduced his personal religious beliefs into clinical sessions, and delivered a presentation arguing that Muslim soldiers should be exempt from deploying to Muslim-majority countries because they might be forced to target fellow soldiers.
Despite these warnings, Hasan was promoted to major in May 2009 and assigned to Fort Hood. His deployment to Afghanistan was imminent. In the weeks before the attack, he purchased an FN 57 semi-automatic pistol and more than 3,000 rounds of ammunition, practiced at a shooting range, and gave away his belongings to neighbors.
On the morning of November 5, 2009, he attended pre-dawn prayers, told a neighbor he was ready, and then walked into the processing center.
Once inside, he stood on a table, shouted Allahu Akbar, and opened fire. He moved deliberately, targeting uniformed soldiers while bypassing civilians. The attack lasted about 10 minutes.
Among the dead were a civilian physician assistant who charged at him with a folding chair, a captain who also rushed toward the threat, and a 19-year-old private first class who was the youngest victim. One soldier was shot seven times and survived by lying still, hearing Hasan count his rounds between reloads.
The response was immediate. Civilian police officer Kimberly Munley exchanged fire with Hasan before being shot three times. Her partner, Sergeant Mark Todd, arrived and shot Hasan five times, ending the rampage.
Hasan was taken into custody and later transferred to a military hospital.
But the failures that allowed the attack to happen were staggering. In December 2008, Hasan began sending emails to Anwar al-Awlaki, a Yemeni-American cleric under federal surveillance for ties to terrorism. The emails asked whether it was religiously permissible for a Muslim soldier to 𝓀𝒾𝓁𝓁 American military personnel.
The FBI intercepted all 18 messages but closed the file, concluding they were consistent with authorized research for a paper Hasan was writing.
The FBI and the Army never connected the dots. Two separate field offices handled the case without sharing information. The training file documenting Hasan’s poor performance and radical statements was never requested.
The Senate Homeland Security Committee later called the attack preventable, issuing a report titled A Ticking Time Bomb.
The Department of Defense initially classified the shooting as workplace violence, not terrorism, a decision that denied survivors combat-related benefits and Purple Hearts. It took an act of Congress in 2015 to authorize those awards. Families of the dead have long argued that the failure to label the attack as terrorism was a second injustice.
Hasan’s own behavior after the attack reinforced the extremist nature of his actions. From death row at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, he wrote to Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi in 2014 requesting formal ISIS citizenship, signing the letter Soldier of Allah. He told mental health evaluators that execution would make him a martyr and that he accepted that outcome.
He has never expressed regret.
The legal proceedings were marked by delays. Hasan dismissed his civilian attorney and represented himself, telling the jury in his opening statement that he had switched sides and was now a mujahid. He cross-examined no witnesses, called no defense, and offered no closing argument.
The jury deliberated for seven hours over two days before sentencing him to death.
Now, with the Supreme Court’s denial and the Secretary of Defense’s request, the execution appears imminent. Survivors have expressed relief. Julia Willson said she is fully in favor.
Alonzo Lunsford, who was shot seven times, said Hasan does not deserve to breathe. Dr. Kathy Platoni called the execution long overdue but insisted that full justice also requires the attack to be formally reclassified as terrorism.
The Fort Hood shooting remains the deadliest attack on a U. S. military installation since the September 11, 2001, attacks.
It was not the act of a lone wolf who radicalized in secret. It was the result of a system that held every warning and failed to act. The Army knew.
The FBI knew. But 13 people died.
As the execution date approaches, the question of whether Hasan will finally face the death penalty is no longer a matter of legal debate. It is a matter of presidential approval. And for the families of the 13, the wait may soon be over.
