In a time of war, they volunteered to defend us. They would have died as heroes for us. Had they, at least their families might be making some sense of the terrible loss they must feel now. With loss, there might at least be meaning — the understanding that their loss is what history has always deducted from our hearts to keep evil at bay for a greater good, for freedoms that are not free. But Nidal Hasan’s murder of twelve soldiers at Fort Hood will be all the more agonizing for the families because there is simply no making sense of it. It had no meaning. There are no words to express how contemptible it was — this cowardly theft of brave young lives from the parents who invested decades of love in their children, of spouses who will never be consoled, and of children who not know mothers and fathers.

There are no root causes, “legitimate” grievances, or divided loyalties that can explain Nidal Malik Hasan, though in due course, some will try to find them. Here, I do not refer to the Army defense counsel who will be burdened with the dreaded duty of defending a man they will assuredly and justifiably loathe, but must defend anyway. For four years, I was an Army Trial Defense Counsel myself. The military conditioning to protect young soldiers is so deeply instilled in commanders and noncommissioned officers that most deeply appreciated my zeal even as I attacked the evidence for the charges they had sent to trial, often with reluctance. For Hasan, the dynamic will be very different. Those who judge Hasan will see repellent dishonor in a man who murdered the soldiers every officer swears he will lead and protect, who betrayed the country he swore to defend, and who killed and maimed despite swearing an oath to heal, to do no harm. If religion was Hasan’s motive, his was an extraordinarily promiscuous view of the meaning of one’s oath to God. No officer can be, or should be, forgiven for betraying and harming soldiers.

The Army will want to exercise jurisdiction over Hasan’s crimes under the Uniform Code of Military Justice. It is the Army way, and it is consistent with the authority of Article 2 of the UCMJ to punish offenses by a man wearing its uniform, against its soldiers, within the boundaries of its largest post. The civilian system could try him, but it is Hasan’s good fortune — and I will soon explain why — that it probably won’t.

For those of us who play no role in Hasan’s trial, no punishment but death seems appropriate, yet the obvious justice of such an outcome is far from assured. For one thing, President Obama will have to attend and speak at these soldiers’ funerals. Silence will not be an option. How can he console without appearing to prejudge guilt and punishment? He must. Any such statement would allow defense attorneys to argue that Obama’s comments constitute unlawful command influence and demand that the charges should be dismissed, or that the death penalty must be excluded. At best, appeals alleging unlawful command influence would delay any execution indefinitely. Prepare yourself for President Obama to sound mealy-mouthed, but it is important to understand that the legal context will dictate this.

As soon as Hasan is well enough to understand them, charges will be preferred on him, and an Article 32, UCMJ hearing will be set. The lawyers will use this hearing to explore the evidence of premeditation, Hasan’s sanity, and potential evidence to mitigate punishment. The Article 32 officer will almost certainly recommend referral of the case to a General Court Martial with the authority to adjudge capital punishment, and the Commanding General is almost certain to follow that recommendation. The evidence of premeditation already seems substantial, and that is before all we will learn about Hasan’s chats, blogs, and e-mails in the coming days. Then will come numerous motions to appoint experts and consultants, conduct discovery, and dismiss charges. In less time than it would take in the civilian system, a panel — not a jury — of at least twelve officers will be selected, all of whom must outrank Hasan (that is, the lowest-ranking member must be a major with a date of rank earlier than Hasan’s). If they convict Hasan, they will proceed to adjudge a sentence.

Writing in the Military Law Review in 2006, three years after my brief stint as editor, Marine Colonel Dwight H. Sullivan wrote that of the 47 capital cases the military has tried in recent decades, just 15 have resulted in death sentences. The trial and sentencing in this case will take a year or two — much less time than it might take in the civilian system, but that is only the beginning. If Hasan is sentenced to death, the case will enter the military’s meticulous appellate system, which has reversed more death sentences than it has affirmed. There have been no military executions since 1961, and there are six men sitting in the military’s death row today. Of these, only one appears to be at all close to execution; in 2008, President Bush approved the execution of convicted serial killer Private Ronald Gray, but Gray still sits on death row for crimes he committed in the 1980’s.

The infuriating reality we are left with is that if Nidal Hasan survives his injuries, he may end up spending the remainder of his life in the company of Hasan Akbar, who also sits on death row for the murder of his comrades.

Joshua Stanton, a former JAG officer, is an attorney in Washington, DC.