Charlie Kirk is dead—struck down not by fate but by political hatred, murdered beneath a tent on a college green where the air should carry ideas, not the scream of an assassin’s bullet.
His killing at Utah Valley University was not the silencing of one man alone. It was an assault on the principles he lived for: civil discourse, free speech, constitutional accountability, and the American tradition of argument waged with words, not weapons.
Kirk was the “happy warrior”—a figure once familiar in American politics, now uncommon. He argued without apology, confident in his cause, yet willing to test it in the open square.
Turning Point USA was his creation—not a militia of grievance, but a student movement driven by optimism, humor, and the conviction that America was worth defending. To young conservatives marooned on hostile campuses, he gave voice, fellowship, and a steady anchor in rough waters.
Now that voice has been stolen.
And with it, one of Kirk’s own warnings returns to haunt us. He saw, more clearly than most, that an “assassination culture” was taking root on the left. He cited polls where shocking numbers of liberals admitted they would justify murder in politics. He warned it was the natural outgrowth of tolerating violence and mayhem in public life—a ticking time bomb.
That bomb has now exploded in Orem, Utah.
Charlie Kirk’s assassination must mark a national inflection point. Can we recover the civic virtue—in times past such a vital part of the American ethos, without which a republic cannot endure—the belief that citizens may disagree, even passionately, without resorting to violence?
Or will we surrender to a hellscape where voices are silenced for their point of view, where the bullet replaces the ballot, where terror replaces talk?
The Founders understood this risk. They built institutions to channel conflict into speech, association, redress, ballots, and laws—not bloodshed. Lincoln, facing another bitter divide, reminded the nation that “there is no grievance that is a fit object of redress by mob law.”
The same holds true now. When assassins strike down voices because they cannot abide argument, they do more than silence individuals—they desecrate the republic itself, and if unchecked, will destroy it.
Too often, the mob now marches online—not to argue, but to ruin; not to persuade, but to intimidate. Its trade is fear. Its object is silence. Its end is violence.
Kirk’s murder is not an isolated act. It follows Butler. It follows Mar-a-Lago—both attempts to kill a former and future president. It follows an arson attempt during Passover, aimed at the Pennsylvania Governor and his family as they slept. It follows the slaying of a Minnesota legislator. It follows the Scalise baseball shooting. The near-miss at Justice Kavanaugh’s home. The cold-blooded slaughter of a health insurance executive. The assaults on ICE officers doing their jobs.
Each time, the refrain is sometimes heard: This is not who we are.
But too many know better. Worse, too many have cheered, even lionized, assassins and assailants—whether they failed or succeeded.
Some on the left have urged violence—so long as it falls on ICE officers or political foes. And online, the chorus swells: dehumanizing, scapegoating, reveling in bloodlust. From such poisonous rhetoric, can anyone feign surprise when violence follows?
As The Western Journal reported, on Wednesday afternoon, the editors at the far-left outlet Jezebel added an editor’s note to one of their stories: “This story was published on September 8. Jezebel condemns the shooting of Charlie Kirk in the strongest possible terms. We do not endorse, encourage, or excuse political violence of any kind.”
But, as The Western Journal observed, not enough, apparently, to delete—or don apologetic sackcloth for—the Monday story titled, “We Paid Some Etsy Witches to Curse Charlie Kirk” remained.
Published just two days before the assassin struck, it reveled in hexes and malice against a living man with a wife and young children.
The editors may call it satire ex post facto, but disturbed minds need little prompting—and disturbed editors offer little contrition.
We are past denial. Political violence is now a recurring fact of American life. Unless it is repudiated—decisively, unequivocally, and for more than a season—it will become normalized.
At only 31, Kirk’s impact was outsized. He proclaimed conservatism was not the domain of an aging generation but could take root in the hearts of high schoolers, college sophomores, and young professionals. His conservatism was not dour but joyful; not reactionary, but constructive and forward-looking. He insisted that our liberties were no relic of parchment but the living lifeblood of a self-governing people.
They mocked him, tried to cancel him, sought to dehumanize him. Undeterred, his reach widened, his impact deepened, his message sharpened.
In every sense, he was a rising star, his zenith still years—perhaps decades—away.
And for that, he was cut down—cruelly. Make no mistake: this was political terror, political repression, political murder.
The question now is whether Charlie Kirk’s death will prove a turning point—to borrow the name of his landmark organization—or a warning unheeded.
We must answer with more than mourning. We must respond with resolve.
We must say it plainly: America will not tolerate assassination—ever. Political violence is not debate. No grievance, no cause, no creed justifies the murder of a citizen for speaking his mind.
If we fail to speak boldly—if we permit equivocation or excuse—the republic itself is imperiled. The violence will repeat, with no end in sight. And Kirk’s warning of a rising “assassination culture” will draw nearer to fulfillment.
Thomas Paine once wrote:
The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly; it is dearness only that gives everything its value. I love the man that can smile in trouble, that can gather strength from distress and grow brave by reflection…he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles unto death.
Those words call Charlie Kirk to mind. He smiled in trouble. He gathered strength by walking onto campuses hostile to conservative ideas. He grew brave by reflection. His heart was firm, and he pursued his principles to the end.
His death is a national wound. His legacy is a summons to the living. The test before us is simple: will we rise to answer it?
We, the living, bear a duty: to defend civil discourse—the safeguard of the republic.
To honor Charlie Kirk by refusing to surrender to fear, by continuing the debates he championed, and by remembering that in America, the answer to speech is more speech—not the crack of gunfire across a college green.
For if we fail, then not only Charlie Kirk, but America itself, will be mortally wounded by the hands of unbridled evil.
Charlton Allen is an attorney and former chief executive officer and chief judicial officer of the North Carolina Industrial Commission. He is founder of the Madison Center for Law & Liberty, Inc., editor of The American Salient, and host of the Modern Federalist podcast. For media inquiries or speaking engagements, please click here. X: @CharltonAllenNC
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