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A Stain in Uniform: Swastika at NJ Coast Guard Training Base Triggers National Reckoning
By: Fern Sidman
The discovery of a hand-drawn swastika inside a men’s restroom at the United States Coast Guard’s primary recruit training center in Cape May, New Jersey, has sent tremors through one of the nation’s most tradition-bound institutions, igniting a searching internal investigation and a broader public reckoning over the persistence of antisemitic symbolism within American civic life. VIN News reported on Tuesday that the incident prompted immediate action from Coast Guard leadership, underscoring the gravity with which the service has sought to confront what it described as an act of hate with no place in its ranks.
According to reporting cited by VIN News, the offensive symbol was discovered on February 19 by an instructor inside a facility that serves as the crucible for transforming civilians into members of the Coast Guard. The location of the vandalism—within a men’s restroom used by recruits—imbued the act with an unsettling intimacy, suggesting that the ideology it represents had found expression within the very space designed to inculcate discipline, respect, and service to the nation.
Within forty-eight hours of the discovery, Admiral Kevin Lunday, the commandant of the Coast Guard, traveled from Washington, D.C., to Cape May to address approximately 900 recruits and staff members, delivering a message that VIN News described as uncompromising in its moral clarity.
“Anyone who adheres to or advances hate or extremist ideology—get out. Leave. You don’t belong in the United States Coast Guard and we reject you,” Lunday declared, according to statements relayed by VIN News. The bluntness of the admonition reflected not merely institutional outrage but an effort to delineate the ethical boundaries of service membership. The Coast Guard, like its sister branches, has long presented itself as a guardian of the nation’s maritime frontiers and humanitarian commitments. To allow symbols of genocidal hatred to appear within its training halls is, in the view articulated by Lunday, to permit a corrosion of the moral foundations upon which the service rests.
VIN News reported that the drawing was promptly removed and that the Coast Guard Investigative Service was directed to examine the circumstances of the incident. The agency’s notification to Congress characterized the act as criminal, a violation of core values, and behavior that has “absolutely no place within our service.”
This framing situates the episode not as a regrettable prank or isolated lapse in judgment but as a serious breach of conduct warranting federal scrutiny. The involvement of congressional oversight further underscores the national implications of the incident, transforming what might have been a localized disciplinary matter into a symbolically charged test of the military’s capacity to police itself against extremist infiltration.
The episode has resonated beyond the confines of Cape May. The VIN News report highlighted the condemnation voiced by Senator Andy Kim of New Jersey, who described the vandalism as “shocking, especially in our own backyard.” Kim’s remarks situated the incident within a broader national struggle against antisemitism, which has manifested with increasing visibility across educational institutions, public spaces, and digital platforms.
“Antisemitism has no place, anywhere,” Kim said, according to the VIN News report, adding that it is insufficient merely to denounce such acts; communities and institutions must collaborate actively to eradicate the conditions that allow them to recur.
Kim’s intervention also carried an implicit legislative dimension. He has supported federal measures aimed at combating antisemitism, even as he has expressed reservations about formally adopting the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance’s working definition of antisemitism. This nuance, underscoring the complexity of policy debates surrounding how antisemitism is defined and addressed within legal and institutional frameworks. The swastika incident at Cape May, in this light, becomes not only a moral affront but a catalyst for renewed scrutiny of the adequacy of existing tools to confront hate in all its contemporary permutations.
The timing of the discovery has amplified its resonance. The VIN News report recalled that the Coast Guard had recently weathered controversy over revisions to its workplace harassment manual, which at one point described swastikas and nooses as “potentially divisive.” That phrasing, widely criticized for minimizing the historically violent and terroristic connotations of such symbols, had been removed after public outcry.
Admiral Lunday, who was acting commandant at the time of those revisions, stated that the language had been “completely removed” from the manual. The appearance of a swastika at a Coast Guard facility so soon after this controversy inevitably invites questions about institutional culture and the depth of internal reforms.
For many observers, the juxtaposition of these episodes suggests a tension between declarative commitments to zero tolerance and the lived realities of organizational life. The Coast Guard’s leadership has been emphatic in its denunciation of the vandalism, yet the persistence of such symbols raises uncomfortable questions about the subterranean currents of prejudice that may persist even within disciplined, hierarchical institutions.
The recruit training center in Cape May is a formative environment, one in which values are not merely taught but embodied through ritual, instruction, and peer culture. The intrusion of a swastika into this space thus carries a symbolic weight that extends beyond the act itself, calling into question the efficacy of the moral pedagogy to which recruits are exposed.
The VIN News report framed the incident as part of a broader national reckoning with the visibility of antisemitism in spaces traditionally associated with civic virtue. The armed services occupy a unique place in the American imagination, embodying ideals of sacrifice, unity, and national purpose. When symbols of genocidal hatred appear within their precincts, the affront is experienced not only by Jewish communities but by the polity at large, for whom the military serves as a repository of collective values. The Coast Guard’s swift response, including the personal intervention of its commandant, reflects an acute awareness of this symbolic dimension.
At the same time, the VIN News report noted that institutional responses, however resolute, cannot substitute for sustained cultural vigilance. Investigations can identify perpetrators; disciplinary measures can enforce norms; manuals can be revised to clarify prohibitions. Yet the deeper challenge lies in cultivating an environment in which such acts are unthinkable, not merely punishable. The swastika, as a symbol, is not an abstract provocation but an emblem of historical extermination, one that carries the weight of millions of murdered lives. Its appearance in a Coast Guard restroom is therefore not a neutral act of vandalism but an invocation of an ideology that stands in direct opposition to the democratic values the service professes to defend.
The Coast Guard’s notification to Congress, emphasizing that such conduct constitutes a crime and violates core values, reflects an effort to anchor moral condemnation within legal and institutional frameworks. This approach, while necessary, also reveals the limitations of formal mechanisms in confronting ideologies that often operate through insinuation, anonymity, and symbolic transgression. The investigative process may ultimately identify the individual responsible, yet the broader question of how such ideologies find resonance within any segment of the population remains unresolved.
As the investigation proceeds, the episode at Cape May is likely to reverberate through debates about extremism within the military and law enforcement more broadly. Concerns about extremist sympathies among service members have periodically surfaced in recent years, prompting calls for enhanced vetting, education, and monitoring. The Coast Guard’s emphatic denunciation of the swastika incident situates it firmly within this national conversation, signaling an institutional commitment to align itself unequivocally against hate.
In the final analysis, the swastika scrawled on a restroom wall at a recruit training center is a small mark with an enormous symbolic shadow. It has compelled the Coast Guard to reaffirm its values in the most public of terms, summoned the attention of lawmakers, and reawakened anxieties about the persistence of antisemitism within American society.
As the VIN News report emphasized, the true measure of the institution’s response will not be found solely in the outcome of the investigation but in the durability of the cultural transformation it seeks to enforce. The eradication of hate from uniformed service is not a one-time act of condemnation; it is an ongoing moral project, one that demands vigilance equal to the gravity of the history the swastika represents.

