I was in class when one of those pink and white Apple News notifications popped up on my phone. One of those notifications that should’ve been turned off in my Settings—they’re always disappointing. They inform you well after the Wall Street Journal or The New York Times, about headline news (I got notice of the United Healthcare CEO’s death a solid two days after it happened), tell an awful lot about keto diets, and always miss the mark on feel-good pieces as well. Just when I thought that a friend hearted my Instagram story or someone important texted me back, I am disappointed by seeing Apple News’ joke of a logo on my notification screen.
“President Trump Announces the Assassination of Conservative Commentator Charlie Kirk.”
I thought it was fake. Just last night, I had watched edits from his embarrassing visit to the Cambridge Union. Interruption after interruption, beatdown after beatdown, his competitors were lauded online for their humiliation of him. Now, he was gone.
The next few days were weird. Everyone wanted to talk about it. But not really. A lot of in-person RIPs and Instagram reposts. A quick, “I can’t believe that happened.” Then conversation resumed as normal. Maybe a brief appearance from the political violence discussion. Emphasis on brief. I’ve found myself wondering why interactions regarding his assassination seem so uniquely cagey and ambiguous.
Last week, Congress passed a “National Day of Remembrance” for Kirk. October 14th. His birthday. We’re Libras together. Let’s get something straight: political violence is absolutely unacceptable and an anti-American act from the beginning. As a nation that has historically prided itself on freedom of speech and assembly, the murder of individuals lawfully voicing their opinions violates the very morals that America was built upon. It is devastating. Brutal. Cruel. Do victims of political violence deserve to be honored? Yes. But a holiday commemorating an advocate for religious fundamentalism and baseless conspiracy theories? What the hell are we doing?
Our national dedications should be towards patriotic Americans who have made significant contributions to this great nation. An advocate for patriarchal systems, the demonization of transgender individuals, the forceful removal of immigrants, and a militarized, highly racialized America is inherently un-American. Kirk’s work is divisive and hardly patriotic. From the most basic functions of society to the technological frontier, America relies on the interactions of diverse groups to produce extraordinary results. Beyond this, Kirk’s communicated discourse allows the Christian, White, heterosexual man to experience America, without a regard for the equal protection of all Americans to their Constitutional rights. Kirk’s main mission actively lied in weaponizing the Christian, White, heterosexual man against women, immigrants, the LGBTQ+ community, and people of color amidst increased social awareness towards inequality and success of minority groups.
For those suggesting he should be commemorated, I present to you some questions. What about JFK? Melissa Hortman? While victims require the utmost attention, does it truly demand an entire commemoration day? In the logic of Kirk’s sacrifice, where is JFK commemoration day? What type of narrative does this serve? By commemorating Kirk, an individual who has long demonized black Americans, one lays him next to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., trailblazing civil rights activist who fought for racial equality.
Kirk may have scripted his own legacy, but the right’s romanticization of his death borders on fantasy, especially when the wider internet treats it as a joke. An unignorable aspect of Kirk’s legacy was his reputation on social media; before Trump’s presidency and the mainstream prevalence of far-right ideologies, Charlie Kirk’s reputation was that of a conspiracy theorist that doubled as an Internet meme. A somewhat notable “podcast bro” (notably still far behind the notoriety of Joe Rogan or other conservative social media figures), Charlie Kirk was on the Internet fringe of “red-pill content,” being far from the face of any notable political movement. His content was formulaic: travel to a small university, debate some kids, spread the clip through which he wins the moral argument by the highest margin, edit with fun lettering, and post online.
The Right’s marketing of Kirk as a “martyr” (notably, something that Kirk deliberately curated to draw the attention of his desired white male audience) or Jesus Christ is concerning to watch when seeing its surging impact on White Christian fundamentalism. Such theories greatly distort more concerning issues of equality and access while reinforcing polarization while unifying conservatives around unverifiable facts. These recent events glamorize Kirk’s career as an individual who went to college campuses to scream at young adults and argue about how the Christian White man is the newest victim of American society. His “Prove Me Wrong” clickbait videos show a caricature that is pining for views by appealing to vulnerable young men. The commemoration day, the politicized funeral, and the conspiracy theories around his death involving a cover-up of the Epstein files or a “Trans terror cell”––these all deter political cooperation. An individual whose entire platform was dedicated towards sowing divisions in every dimension possible for views and publicity is not a martyr, but the true plague of American society.
Viewing the commemoration ceremony, the occasion seemed eerily disconnected as each prominent figure took the stage. President Trump and RFK Jr.’s speeches permeated my page, while only one video of Erika Kirk’s disheartening speech would make it through the algorithm. It seemed distasteful by the algorithm, but yet again, it reflects our preferences as a society. What was this commemoration really about? One of the most prominent Internet memes of my college experience had passed as a revolutionary Christian patriot. The disconnection between those identities in my head still struggle to find understanding. Kirk’s murder is not to be repeated, but to be a turning point for us as a society, regardless of his legacy.
