Harvey Milk Legacy and Navy Ship Renaming Controversy
Harvey Milk is more than a name etched into history—he is a symbol of courage, representation, and resilience. As one of the first openly gay elected officials in the United States, his life and legacy continue to inspire millions within the LGBTQ+ community and beyond.
But in June 2025, during Pride Month—a time dedicated to celebrating LGBTQ+ history—the Pentagon ignited a political and cultural firestorm. Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth ordered the U.S. Navy to rename the USNS Harvey Milk, a vessel that had only recently completed its first active service mission. The stated reason? A reassertion of what the administration calls “warrior culture” within the armed forces.
The decision has drawn sharp criticism, stirred public discourse, and led many to revisit not just Milk’s life, but also what his name on a naval ship meant for inclusion and progress in the military.
Who Was Harvey Milk?
Born in 1930 in Woodmere, New York, Harvey Milk led a relatively traditional early life. He served in the United States Navy during the Korean War era, rising to the rank of lieutenant junior grade. But his military career came to a painful end in 1955, when he was forced to resign after being investigated for his sexual orientation—a fate shared by many LGBTQ+ service members in that era.
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Harvey Milk and The U.S.N.S. Harvey Milk |
In 1977, Milk made history by becoming the first openly gay elected official in California and one of the first in the U.S. as a member of the San Francisco Board of Supervisors. His platform championed human rights, education reform, and equity, becoming a beacon of hope for marginalized communities.
Tragically, Milk’s life was cut short in 1978 when he and San Francisco Mayor George Moscone were assassinated by a disgruntled former city supervisor. Yet, Milk’s name lived on—in legislation, documentaries, schools, and in 2016, on a U.S. Navy ship.
The USNS Harvey Milk: A Milestone in Representation
The USNS (United States Naval Ship) Harvey Milk (T-AO 206) is a John Lewis-class fleet replenishment oiler. It was named under the Obama administration in 2016 as part of a broader effort to honor civil rights icons. It represented a powerful acknowledgment by the U.S. military that LGBTQ+ service members, long excluded and dishonored, now had a place in its legacy.
The ship was christened in 2021 and celebrated by the Milk family, Navy officials, and LGBTQ+ advocacy groups alike. Milk’s nephew, Stuart Milk, attended the ceremony, highlighting the importance of acknowledging both the history and the future of LGBTQ+ people in the armed forces.
The ship’s deployment in 2024 was covered widely, including by Military.com, which published imagery of the USNS Harvey Milk conducting operations with the USS Gerald R. Ford—a moment seen as a symbol of inclusion and strength.
The Controversy: Why the Name Is Being Changed
On June 3, 2025, a Pentagon memo confirmed what many had feared: the USNS Harvey Milk would be renamed. Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth’s directive called for a “realignment” of naval culture with the administration’s objective of reestablishing a “warrior ethos.” The move, he claimed, was about “ensuring military assets reflect our nation’s values and the Commander-in-Chief’s priorities”.
The memo made headlines as it was timed with Pride Month, triggering accusations of political spite and cultural regression. Critics noted that the decision was not isolated. Other vessels named after civil rights leaders—such as the USNS Thurgood Marshall, USNS Harriet Tubman, and USNS Ruth Bader Ginsburg—were also being considered for renaming.
This broader initiative has been interpreted by many as a direct rollback of efforts made during previous administrations to diversify and modernize military recognition.
Public and Political Reactions
One of the most vocal critics of the move has been Speaker Emerita Nancy Pelosi, who condemned the decision as “a shameful, vindictive erasure” of the progress LGBTQ+ Americans have fought for. She added, “This spiteful move … is a surrender of a fundamental American value: to honor the legacy of those who worked to build a better country”.
LGBTQ+ advocacy organizations, including the Harvey Milk Foundation, have also denounced the move, pointing out the historical significance of such representation within military ranks—especially for a man who had been expelled from the same institution for being gay.
Civil Rights, Warrior Culture, and the Identity Crisis of the U.S. Military
The debate around the renaming of the USNS Harvey Milk has become more than a policy decision—it is a reflection of the broader ideological battle within America’s institutions.
On one side, proponents of the change argue that military assets should prioritize symbols of combat valor and operational excellence. On the other side are advocates who believe that representation and diversity are not in conflict with strength—they are part of it.
Critics of the Pentagon’s move note the irony that honoring someone like Milk—who served the Navy and was punished for his identity—should be seen as undermining “warrior culture.” They argue that warrior ethos can coexist with values of inclusivity, resilience, and justice.
Harvey Milk, the U.S. Navy, and the Future of Identity in the Armed Forces
Military Naming Traditions: Honoring or Erasing History?
The U.S. military has a long and storied tradition of naming its vessels after heroes, presidents, and historical milestones. But the naming of Navy ships is more than symbolic—it reflects what the Department of Defense believes to be American values worth upholding.
According to Naval Sea Systems Command, ship names are usually chosen by the Secretary of the Navy and approved by the President. These names have historically honored everything from states and cities to war heroes and, more recently, civil rights icons like Harvey Milk, John Lewis, and Ruth Bader Ginsburg.
The decision to rename such vessels is exceptionally rare—and often controversial. It usually requires compelling political motivation or a major shift in administration policy. In 2023, for example, Congress mandated a full renaming of Confederate-themed military bases and ships. That decision was hailed as a step toward modern justice and unity.
Now, under Secretary Pete Hegseth’s leadership, the Pentagon is moving in the opposite direction. His directive to reverse those naming efforts, citing a return to “warrior culture,” signals an ideological pivot. Ships like the USNS Harvey Milk are caught in this cultural whiplash.
The “Warrior Culture” Narrative: Inclusion vs. Identity Politics
Secretary Hegseth’s stated mission is to reinvigorate the military’s warfighting mindset by removing what he terms “divisive identity politics” from military life. That includes banning Pride Month celebrations and other heritage observances like Black History Month and Women’s History Month, which he believes could “undermine unity within the ranks”.
Critics call this a smokescreen for erasing hard-won progress.
What does “warrior culture” really mean in the modern military? For many veterans and active-duty service members, it’s about courage, honor, and excellence in service. But LGBTQ+ advocates argue that such values are not exclusive to straight, white, male figures of the past. In fact, Harvey Milk’s courage in the face of discrimination, his service in the Navy, and his impact on civil rights should be exactly the kind of legacy the military honors.
As Stuart Milk, nephew of Harvey and co-founder of the Harvey Milk Foundation, put it:
“The decision to remove his name is not about preserving culture—it’s about denying dignity. This isn’t just a ship. It’s a symbol of acknowledgment for every LGBTQ+ person who’s served and suffered in silence.”
LGBTQ+ Inclusion in the Military: A Hard-Fought Battle
The Navy’s naming of a ship after Harvey Milk was not merely a feel-good gesture—it was part of a systematic attempt to repair the legacy of exclusion in military service.
For decades, LGBTQ+ people were banned from military service altogether. Those discovered to be gay were often dishonorably discharged, denied benefits, and stripped of rank. Harvey Milk himself was forced out of the Navy with an “Other Than Honorable” discharge in the 1950s. He never received a formal apology.
In the 2010s, progress accelerated. “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” was repealed. Open service was allowed. In 2021, transgender individuals were again allowed to serve following bans under the previous administration.
Naming a ship after Milk was an important milestone in that journey.
To reverse that name now—particularly during Pride Month—feels to many like an attack not just on Milk, but on the idea that LGBTQ+ people belong in the armed forces at all.
Renaming Fallout: Public Outcry and Political Ramifications
The decision has galvanized not just activists but also mainstream politicians. Former Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi called the renaming a “shameful and vindictive erasure” that “surrenders a fundamental American value.” Her comments reflect a broader sentiment that such reversals are motivated by culture war politics, not military necessity.
The political timing is also critical. With national elections approaching, the decision has sparked heated debates across social media and cable news, becoming part of the broader ideological battlefield between progressive and conservative visions of America.
Even centrist military analysts question the wisdom of renaming active service ships, noting the logistical, diplomatic, and morale impacts. One retired Navy officer told Military.com:
“You can change a name on paper, but the crew knows what ship they serve on. Removing Harvey Milk’s name sends a message—to our allies, to our enemies, and to our own sailors—that honoring diversity is no longer a value.”
Historical Parallels: The Fight Over Representation
This is not the first time the U.S. has wrestled with how to represent itself. The 2020s saw a reckoning over monuments, school names, and public honors tied to Confederate figures and racist policies.
That reckoning led to a bipartisan commission that oversaw the renaming of bases like Fort Bragg and Fort Benning, moving away from honoring Confederate leaders to more inclusive, democratic figures. Ironically, that same renaming commission also helped inspire the naming of John Lewis-class ships—the category to which the USNS Harvey Milk belongs.
To see those names now being systematically reversed marks what many see as an unraveling of post-2020 efforts toward reconciliation and representation.
What’s Next for the USNS Harvey Milk?
At the time of writing, the Navy has not yet publicly announced the new name for the ship, though several sources confirm that an internal shortlist is under review. Legal reviews are underway, and announcements may follow later this summer.
Meanwhile, organizations like the Human Rights Campaign and the American Civil Liberties Union have vowed to challenge the move, whether through public advocacy or possible litigation. Stuart Milk has indicated that the Harvey Milk Foundation will launch a campaign to keep the name intact, including petitions, social media awareness, and pressure on Congress.
Final Thoughts: Why Names Matter
Names on ships, plaques, and buildings are not just words. They are reflections of national values. The name Harvey Milk on a U.S. Navy vessel stood for visibility, resilience, and acknowledgment.
To erase it now—especially when LGBTQ+ rights are again under political attack—feels like a step backward in a country that promises liberty and justice for all.
Whether the name stays or goes, the conversation it has sparked is vital. Harvey Milk said it best himself:
“Hope will never be silent.”
And neither should we be.
Harvey Milk’s Cultural Impact and the Global Echo of the Ship Renaming
Harvey Milk in Popular Culture and Global Memory
Beyond politics and military policy, Harvey Milk’s legacy lives on in culture, film, literature, and LGBTQ+ movements across the world. His life story has become an emblem of what one voice can mean to an entire generation—especially a voice that refused to remain silent.
In 2008, the Academy Award-winning biopic Milk, starring Sean Penn, brought Harvey’s life to a global audience. The film portrayed his activism, his election victory, and his assassination in heartbreaking detail, reviving interest in his story across age groups and nationalities.
In 2009, then-President Barack Obama posthumously awarded Harvey Milk the Presidential Medal of Freedom, one of the highest civilian honors in the U.S., recognizing his “vision and courage” in the fight for equality.
His birthday, May 22, is now officially recognized in California as Harvey Milk Day, and many schools across the country commemorate the occasion with LGBTQ+ education programs.
Even in countries like the UK, Canada, and Australia, Milk’s image has been used in human rights campaigns. Murals of Milk have appeared in cities like London and Toronto, further proof that his influence knows no borders.
Global Reaction: Allies and Veterans Speak Out
The renaming of the USNS Harvey Milk has not only created a domestic uproar—it’s also drawn international criticism. LGBTQ+ veterans from Canada, Germany, and the United Kingdom, where LGBTQ+ inclusion in the military is more embedded, have spoken out.
In a joint statement, members of Rainbow Veterans UK said:
“Harvey Milk’s story speaks to every LGBTQ+ soldier who served in silence. To remove his name is to tell those stories they no longer matter.”
Allied countries who conduct joint operations with the U.S. Navy—such as Japan’s Maritime Self-Defense Force, which had recently completed training missions with the USNS Harvey Milk—have remained diplomatically silent. But some foreign media have editorialized the move as “ideological regression.”
The controversy also comes at a time when the U.S. State Department is actively promoting LGBTQ+ rights abroad, creating a contradiction between military and diplomatic postures.
Why Harvey Milk’s Name on a Ship Mattered So Deeply
To some, the renaming of a single ship may seem like a minor event in a world full of conflict. But to the LGBTQ+ community—and to those historically pushed to the margins of the armed forces—it signified acknowledgment, validation, and progress.
Let’s consider the layers of symbolism:
- Harvey Milk was forced out of the Navy because of his sexual orientation.
- Decades later, the Navy honored him by putting his name on a ship.
- Now, his name is being removed—in the very month meant to celebrate LGBTQ+ progress.
This full-circle moment is not just about policy—it’s about identity, belonging, and whether LGBTQ+ Americans can see themselves reflected in the institutions they serve.
And it sends a message, one way or another.
A Broader Pattern? The Rollback of Progressive Recognition
The USNS Harvey Milk is not alone. Other vessels, including those named after Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Thurgood Marshall, Medgar Evers, and Cesar Chavez, are reportedly on the Pentagon’s review list.
This points to a broader rollback of progressive-era recognitions, under the banner of “returning to warrior values.” But what exactly defines a warrior?
Can a civil rights leader not embody strength? Can resilience in the face of social exclusion not be a form of heroism?
Critics argue that the current military leadership is redefining warrior culture in a narrow, regressive way—one that excludes the very diversity that makes American strength so enduring.
The Human Cost of Erasure
One cannot separate this debate from the real people affected by it. LGBTQ+ veterans, active-duty sailors, and the families of civil rights pioneers now face a difficult reality: that the military honors they thought were permanent can be revoked based on ideology.
Take the story of Lt. Cmdr. Brian Bennett, a retired Navy officer and gay veteran. In an op-ed published in The Washington Post, he wrote:
“The name Harvey Milk on that hull told me, finally, that my service mattered. That I belonged. That I had a home. If they can take that away—what else will they take?”
The Harvey Milk Foundation, which has worked globally to support LGBTQ+ rights and visibility, has launched a petition and legal review in partnership with the ACLU and other civil rights groups. Their argument is simple: removing the name now is discriminatory, and possibly unconstitutional, especially if it disproportionately targets LGBTQ+ honorees.
Educational Institutions Weigh In
Educators and historians have also entered the conversation. Milk is part of many LGBTQ+ curricula in public schools and universities. His story is taught not just as political history but as a lesson in courage, resistance, and identity formation.
To have his name stripped from a military vessel undermines decades of efforts to teach inclusive, truthful American history. It suggests that progress is optional—and that erasure is only one policy memo away.
What’s Next?
As of early June 2025, the following is expected:
- The new name of the USNS Harvey Milk will be revealed later this summer, pending legal and procedural reviews.
- LGBTQ+ and civil rights organizations are expected to protest the change publicly, with marches in Washington, D.C. planned for June 22.
- Several lawmakers have proposed a “Protection of Honored Names Act”, which would require Congressional approval before any military installation or ship name honoring civil rights leaders is removed.
Whether or not these efforts succeed, the cultural damage has already been done—and it may reverberate for years.
Conclusion: Harvey Milk’s Name, Legacy, and the Test of Time
In the face of war, conflict, and global uncertainty, it’s easy to question the importance of names on ships. But these names are chosen to reflect who we are as a nation, what we value, and whom we honor.
Removing Harvey Milk’s name sends a chilling message to anyone who believes in inclusion and equal recognition. It suggests that those once silenced can be silenced again.
But as Milk himself once declared:
“If a bullet should enter my brain, let that bullet destroy every closet door.”
The USNS Harvey Milk was never just a ship—it was a door opened, finally, to those who had been locked out of honor for too long. To close it now is more than a military decision. It’s a historical one.
And history, as we know, remembers who stood up—and who stayed silent.