Doom of Democracy?

Charlie Kirk, the well-known conservative activist and founder of Turning Point USA, was shot and killed on September 10 while speaking at Utah Valley University. He was thirty-one years old, and his abrupt death stunned both supporters and opponents, forcing the nation to confront what happens when political differences no longer stay in the realm of debate and cross the line into violence. Political violence is not just an attack on one person; rather, it is an attack on democracy itself.

Kirk’s rise to fame began in his teenage years, when he founded Turning Point USA, an organization that hosted conferences and mobilized young conservatives on college campuses. Through his activism, he became a vocal ally of Donald Trump and often denounced diversity initiatives and attacked “woke culture.” His ideas, such as comparing progressive movements to authoritarian regimes and dismissing systemic racism, sparked outrage among critics and defense from his supporters, and helped him build a large following.

Following the attack, the nation’s response has exposed many deep fractures. President Trump called Kirk “a patriot who gave his life for freedom” and even announced a proposal to engrave his face on coins. He called for states to lower their flags at half-mast. Many have labeled him a martyr, but critics argue that these gestures risk glorifying the violence itself. By framing his death as a political sacrifice rather than a tragedy, they feed into a narrative that valorizes confrontation over compromise. Such reactions could deepen the political divide by turning a human loss into a weapon.

When prominent figures attempted to broach the subject, they faced censorship and backlash, similar to Jimmy Kimmel, who had his popular talk show temporarily suspended from airing after his comments on the growing political extremism surrounding Kirk’s death.

The assassination has ignited a fierce debate about what this means for democracy. Political violence, no matter the target, should never be normalized or excused. Yet, both sides are growing more and more hostile toward one another. When someone is killed for their beliefs, no matter how controversial, it signals a dangerous erosion of our shared commitment to peace. Recently, two young women were also killed by an unstable Kirk supporter who claimed he was “defending his legacy,” an unsettling example of how this cycle of radicalization extends well beyond the initial act.

As a country, politics has become increasingly polarized and radicalized, with outrage replacing dialogue and partisanship replacing empathy. Trapped in outrage, each aggressive act fuels another as empathy and acceptance fade further into the background. Whether one agrees or not with Kirk’s viewpoints, his death should not be seen as a victory. It should be a wake-up call, a moment to ask what kind of nation we are becoming when violence becomes the language of politics. It is a tragedy for his family, yes, but also a tragedy for our nation. It is a sign that the U.S. is slowly losing its ability to coexist across differences and to find common ground.

If this becomes another act to fuel violence, and people continue to exploit it for political gain—one side blaming the other and using his death to rally anger instead of reflection—we risk cementing a future defined by fear and vengeance instead of debate and democracy. The choice before us is clear: either confront the dangerous normalization of political violence, or allow outrage to consume the very principles that hold this country together.