Martyrdom and Momentum: How Charlie Kirk’s Death Became a Political Weapon

Inside the White House’s rush to politicize a tragedy and the threat it poses to free speech.

President Donald Trump — joined, it seemed, by half his cabinet — turned out for the memorial service for Charlie Kirk, the 31-year-old pro-Trump provocateur who was killed while speaking at a university in Utah. The rhetoric at the service was starkly divisive. Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth called Kirk a “warrior for Christ.” Deputy Chief of Staff Stephen Miller railed against “enemies” and “forces of wickedness and evil.” But it was President Trump who chose the word “hate” as he vilified those who disagree with him.

“He did not hate his opponents, he wanted the best for them,” Trump said — and then used the occasion to attack his critics. In a statement that appeared aimed at tens of millions of Americans who oppose him, he concluded, “I hate my opponents, and I don’t want the best for them. I’m sorry.”

In the wake of Kirk’s death, Trump and his enablers have launched a new phase in their authoritarian posture. They are using the power of government to suppress speech and to target a pseudo-enemy they label “the Left.” In exploiting the tragedy, they are recasting Kirk as a hard-right Christian martyr and stoking fear and outrage across the political spectrum. This cynical politicization of a death is advancing a dictatorial agenda and further dividing the country.

No one should deny that Kirk’s murder was a tragedy. Shot while speaking at a rally in Utah on September 10, he left behind a young family and a legion of followers. But within 24 hours the administration had begun promoting him as a martyr and promising official retribution.

“We have to beat the hell out of radical Left lunatics,” the President declared. Attorney General Pam Bondi signaled an assault on free-speech protections, and Secretary of State Marco Rubio announced deportation proceedings against foreigners who celebrated Kirk’s killing in social-media comments. Deputy Chief of Staff Stephen Miller promised the full force of government would be used against undefined “networks” of left-wing domestic terrorists.

Miller’s “networks” became the villain in a narrative constructed by Trump officials and their most visible allies: the murder was the inciting incident, Kirk the victim who must be avenged. They amplified the story by distorting his record and portraying him as larger than life.

Trump called Kirk a “martyr,” ordered flags lowered across the country, and dispatched Air Force Two — with Vice President J.D. Vance aboard — to transport Kirk’s casket from Utah to his hometown in Arizona. As Google searches for “civil war 2” spiked, Trump announced a federal investigation into people on “the Left,” and the national conversation was set ablaze by his powerful surrogates.

“The Left is the party of murder,” Elon Musk declared, adding, “If they won’t leave us in peace, then our choice is fight or die.” “We are at war,” said Steve Bannon. “Whether we want to accept it or not, they are at war with us,” said Jesse Watters. “They sent a trained sniper to assassinate Charlie Kirk…” tweeted Laura Loomer — and millions listened.

With pressure mounting, even the press reacted. MSNBC fired political analyst Matthew Dowd, a Republican, after an off-camera remark about Kirk’s incendiary rhetoric. The Washington Post columnist Karen Attiah lost her platform after she reminded readers on social media of Kirk’s history of inflammatory comments — while also condemning political violence. Dowd and Attiah did not speak harshly; their employers plainly felt the heat from conservatives who, in the wake of Kirk’s death, suddenly acknowledged that radical rhetoric can inspire violence — a point the Right has often denied.

Trump’s rhetoric obscures inconvenient facts. He has repeatedly encouraged violence at rallies, labeled opponents “fascists,” and called reporters the “enemy of the people.” In 2020 he reposted a message saying, “The only good Democrat is a dead Democrat.” His Justice Department once described trends showing far-right attacks outpacing other forms of domestic violent extremism — a report that later disappeared from a government website.

In a rare public statement, Chief of Staff Susie Wiles warned that the response to Kirk’s killing would include a crackdown on speech. “So in the coming days, the president will be telling the American people about what we plan to do,” she said. “It will not be easy. There’s layer upon layer upon layer, and some of this hate-filled rhetoric is multigenerational, but you’ve got to start somewhere.”

Attorney General Bondi framed the Justice Department as arbiter of permissible speech: “There’s free speech and then there’s hate speech, and there is no place, especially now, especially after what happened to Charlie, in our society.” That formulation ignores a core legal reality: in the United States, there is no statutory category of “hate speech” that the government can ban. The First Amendment protects most speech — including speech that many find ugly or offensive — with narrow exceptions for true threats and direct incitement. Landmark cases have protected even the most detested speakers in the name of preserving free expression.

Kirk himself called himself a free-speech absolutist: “There’s ugly speech. There’s gross speech. There’s evil speech. And ALL of it is protected by the First Amendment.” He warned that once officials start policing “hate,” enforcement becomes subjective — determined by whoever holds power.

Reports surfaced that the White House considered revoking tax-exempt status for nonprofits that support speech the administration dislikes — compiling lists, naming organizations, and exploring punitive measures. Vice President Vance blamed an “incredibly destructive movement of left-wing extremism,” pointing to outlets and foundations as part of an imagined network. The facts do not support that construction: Open Society has not funded The Nation, for example, and Ford’s modest grant years earlier does not justify a campaign of retribution.

Miller vowed to “identify, disrupt, dismantle and destroy these networks and make America safe again… in Charlie’s name.” Congressman Clay Higgins urged using government power to punish critics — revoking licenses, blacklisting businesses, even stripping driver’s licenses.

This is the language of intimidation. The evidence is thin; the intention is clear: to rile supporters and intimidate critics. FCC Chair Brendan Carr threatened ABC’s broadcast license after Jimmy Kimmel joked about the assassin possibly being a Trump supporter, prompting ABC to suspend Kimmel rather than face regulatory pressure.

Meanwhile, some in Trump’s orbit went too far in the other direction. At a Kennedy Center vigil, National Intelligence Director Tulsi Gabbard compared Kirk to Martin Luther King Jr. — an analogy both factually and morally problematic given Kirk’s record. Kirk had mocked King, described the Civil Rights Act as a mistake, trafficked in racist tropes, and called for violent rhetoric, even advocating the execution of President Biden on live television. Not to excuse violence, but these facts matter when public figures attempt to sanctify him.

I recount Kirk’s words not to vilify the dead, but because I am alarmed at the rush to turn him into a saint who must be avenged. We must resist both the temptation to politicize a tragedy for power and the urge to silence disagreement through intimidation. True defenders of liberty — on left and right — should oppose violence and also reject the expansion of government power to punish speech.

There were voices of reason within the conservative movement. Erick Erickson called Pam Bondi a “moron” for her suggestions; commentator Matt Walsh reminded her, “There is no law against saying hateful things, and there shouldn’t be.” They are right — and they should be listened to. The time for retribution should not be the time we abandon constitutional principles. If we allow government to be used as a cudgel against political speech, the next administration might use it against those who disagree with them. That is a future none of us should welcome.