Charlie Kirk, Political Violence, and Building a Better Future

First, let me be clear: violence is never the answer. No matter our political beliefs, no person deserves to be harmed.

The recent tragedy involving Charlie Kirk underscores this truth. He did not deserve what happened to him. At the same time, his victims—the communities and individuals targeted by his rhetoric—did not deserve the harm unleashed on them either.

If we want a more peaceful future, we must hold two truths at once: we must reject political violence in all its forms, and we must also reckon with the corrosive, divisive rhetoric that fuels it.

 

Words Have Consequences

Kirk built a career amplifying inflammatory positions, often dismissing the human cost of policies he championed. He once argued that it was “worth it” for Americans to experience gun deaths in order to preserve the Second Amendment.

His point of view treated tragedy as an acceptable trade-off, so long as he never imagined himself among the casualties.

This isn’t to say his death was deserved. It wasn’t. But it is a reminder that words carry weight. When public figures normalize cruelty, mock empathy, or legitimize conspiracy theories, they shape a culture in which violence feels more permissible.

Leaders and influencers bear responsibility for the ecosystems they create.

 

The Gospel That Was Preached

Many have rushed to frame Kirk as a defender of faith. Yet the gospel he championed was not one of compassion, grace, or love thy neighbor. His platform too often advanced Christian nationalism, racial division, and contempt for the vulnerable. He sold his audience a warped version of faith; one that replaced empathy with mockery, compassion with contempt, and community with authoritarian control.

Moments of motivational speech do not erase the harm of rhetoric that belittled the poor, mocked victims of violence, dismissed civil rights, or painted fellow Americans as enemies to be subdued.

None of that is the gospel of Christ. It’s the gospel of power.

True leadership requires more than soundbites—it requires consistency between words, values, and actions.

 

A Broader Pattern of Violence

Kirk’s tragedy cannot be separated from the broader reality of political violence in America. In recent years, we’ve seen:

•The plot to kidnap Michigan’s Democratic Governor, Gretchen Whitmer.

•The assassination attempt against Pennsylvania’s Democratic Governor, Josh Shapiro.

•The shootings in June involving Minnesota State Representative and former House Speaker Melissa Hortman (killed), and State Senator John Hoffman (wounded), and their respective families.

These attacks are part of a troubling trend of political violence, one that has disproportionately targeted Democratic leaders. Yet they also signal a more universal danger: when political rhetoric treats opponents as enemies, violence becomes acceptable.

Kirk spent years amplifying rhetoric that justified these dangers under the banner of “protecting the Second Amendment” and “defending freedom.”

Now that the right has lost one of its own, maybe—just maybe—we can finally have an honest conversation about gun control.

If there is a lesson here, it is not about one man; it is about the culture we are building together.

 

Moving Beyond Distraction

It is tempting to let this moment collapse into partisanship: red versus blue, left versus right, heroes versus villains. That is the wrong lesson. The deeper problem is not one individual, but a system that rewards outrage, division, and dehumanization.

You want to honor victims of political violence? You want to stop the cycle? Then let’s cut through the noise and demand accountability where it really matters.

Release the Epstein files—all of them.

Because until we stop letting power hide behind distraction, division, and ideology, nothing changes.

If we want change, we must resist distraction and demand accountability where it matters most.

That means renewed conversations about gun violence, especially after this past week.

It means dismantling the incentives that make hate profitable.

And it means shining light on the places where power hides behind secrecy and division.

Until we do, we will remain caught in cycles of distraction while the root causes of violence go unaddressed.

 

A Call to Leadership

Condemning political violence is only step one. Step two is cultivating a public square where empathy, accountability, and truth matter more than partisanship. That requires courage—not just from politicians, but from all of us.

The future will be written not by those who yell the loudest, but by those who insist on something better.