Virtually every person of note in American politics has, rightfully, condemned the horrific killing of Charlie Kirk and expressed their deep concerns about the growing incidence of political violence in the United States. Wherever we stand politically, we all agree that he should still be alive.
There has been less agreement about Kirk’s life and work. Death tends to soften our tendency to judge. And sudden, violent death — especially one as gruesome and shocking as this one — can push us toward hagiography, especially in the immediate wake of the killing.
So it goes for Kirk.
“Charlie inspired millions,” President Trump said in an Oval Office speech on Wednesday. “He championed his ideas with courage, logic, humor and grace.”
“The best way to honor Charlie’s memory,” Gov. Gavin Newsom of California declared, “is to continue his work: engage with each other, across ideology, through spirited discourse.”
Kirk’s approach, wrote the editors of Politico’s Playbook, “was to persuade, to use charm and charisma and provocation and the power of argument to convince people of the righteousness of his cause.”
There is no doubt that Kirk was influential, no doubt that he had millions of devoted fans. But it is difficult to square this idealized portrait of Kirk as model citizen with the man as he was.
Kirk’s eulogists have praised him for his commitment to discourse, dialogue and good-faith discussion. Few if any of them have seen fit to mention the fact that Kirk’s first act on the national stage was to create a McCarthyite watchlist of college and university professors, lecturers and academics. Kirk urged visitors to the website to report those who “discriminate against conservative students and advance leftist propaganda in the classroom.”
The list, which still exists, is a catalog of speech acts in and outside the classroom. The surest way to find yourself on the watchlist as an academic is to disagree, publicly, with conservative ideology, or even acknowledge ideas and concepts that are verboten among the far right. And the obvious intent of the list is made clear at the end of each entry, where Kirk and his allies urge readers to contact the schools and institutions in question. Targets of the watchlist attest to harassment and threats of violence.
The Professor Watchlist is a straightforward intimidation campaign, and you can draw a line directly from Kirk’s work attacking academics to the Trump administration’s all-out war on American higher education, an assault on the right to speak freely and dissent.
To speak of Kirk as a champion of reasoned discussion is also to ignore his frequent calls for the state suppression of his political opponents.
“‘Investigate first, define the crimes later’ should be the order of the day,” Kirk declared in an editorial demanding the legal intimidation of anyone associated with the political left. “And for even the most minor of offenses, the rule should be: no charity, no goodwill, no mercy.”
Speaking last year in support of Trump’s plan for mass deportation, Kirk warned that the incoming president would not tolerate dissent or resistance. “Playtime is over. And if a Democrat gets in our way, well, then Matt Gaetz very well might go arrest you,” he said.
It is also important to mention that Kirk was a powerful voice in support of Trump’s effort to “stop the steal” after the 2020 presidential election. His organization, Turning Point USA, went as far as to bus participants to Washington for the rally that devolved into the Jan. 6 riot attack on the Capitol.
And then there is Kirk’s vision for America, which wasn’t one of peace and pluralism but white nationalism and the denigration of Americans deemed unworthy of and unfit for equal citizenship.
On his podcast, Kirk called on authorities to create a “citizen force” on the border to protect “white demographics” from “the invasion of the country.” He embraced the rhetoric of white pride and warned of “a great replacement” of rural white Americans.
“The great replacement strategy, which is well underway every single day in our southern border, is a strategy to replace white rural America with something different,” he said last year. “You believe in God, country, family, faith, and freedom, and they won’t stop until you and your children and your children’s children are eliminated.”
Kirk also targeted Black Americans for contempt. “Prowling Blacks go around for fun to go target white people — that’s a fact,” he said in 2023. Kirk was preoccupied with the idea of “Black crime,” and on the last episode of his show before he was killed, he devoted a segment to “the ever-increasing amount of Black crime,” telling his audience, falsely, that “one in 22 Black men will be a murderer in their lifetime” and that “by age of 23, half of all Black males have been arrested and not enough of them have been arrested.”
Kirk told his listeners that Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson of the Supreme Court “is what your country looks like on critical race theory,” that former Vice President Kamala Harris was “the jive speaking spokesperson of equity,” and that the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. “was awful.”
“I have a very, very radical view on this, but I can defend it, and I’ve thought about it,” Kirk said at a 2023 event. “We made a huge mistake when we passed the Civil Rights Act in the 1960s.”
This is just a snippet of Kirk’s rhetoric and his advocacy. He also believed that there was no place for transgender people in American society — “We must ban trans-affirming care — the entire country,” he said in 2024 — and has denounced L.G.B.T. identities as a “social contagion.”
It is sometimes considered gauche, in the world of American political commentary, to give words the weight of their meaning. As this thinking goes, there might be real belief, somewhere, in the provocations of our pundits, but much of it is just performance, and it doesn’t seem fair to condemn someone for the skill of putting on a good show.
But Kirk was not just putting on a show. He was a dedicated proponent of a specific political program. He was a champion for an authoritarian politics that backed the repression of opponents and made light of violence against them. And you can see Kirk’s influence everywhere in the Trump administration, from its efforts to strip legal recognition from transgender Americans to its anti-diversity purge of the federal government.
We can mourn Kirk. We can send prayers to his friends and family. We can take stock of the gravity of this event. We can — and should — do all of this and more without pretending he was something, as a public figure, that he was not.
What I Wrote
I wrote a response, of sorts, to Senator Eric Schmitt of Missouri, whose recent speech at a conference for “national conservatives” was a direct rebuke of the creedal nationalism of the Declaration of Independence and Gettysburg.
Schmitt, like Vance before him, presents this vision of the United States as a novel rebuke to liberal ideology. But truth be told, theirs is the stale orthodoxy of those blinkered devotees of human aristocracy, who reject the faith of the founders — and the work of those who made it real — to worship at the altar of hierarchy and repression.
I also joined my colleagues Michelle Cottle and David French on an episode of The Opinions, where we discussed Kirk, his influence and the potential impact of his death.
Now Reading
Osita Nwanevu on William F. Buckley for The New York Review of Books.
Samantha Hancox-Li on accountability and good governance for Liberal Currents.
Jill Lepore on how originalism has killed the Constitution for The Atlantic.
Emily Witt on the “manosphere” for The London Review of Books.
Abdullah Hany Daher on his return to Gaza, for Jewish Currents.
Photo of the Week
Two National Guard soldiers, patrolling Union Station in Washington, D.C.
Now Eating: Sticky Miso Salmon Bowl
I have nothing to add for this recipe, which comes from New York Times Cooking! It is quick, easy and flexible. I highly recommend it.
Ingredients
-
2 cups sushi rice
-
3 tablespoons white miso
-
2 tablespoons honey
-
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
-
1 tablespoon freshly grated ginger
-
2 teaspoons fresh grapefruit zest plus 1 tablespoon juice
-
4 (6- to 8-ounce) skinless salmon fillets, patted dry
-
Salt and pepper
-
4 scallions, thinly sliced
-
1 tablespoon unsalted butter, cubed
-
Any combination of kimchi, chile crisp, toasted nori sheets, and sliced cucumber, avocado or radish, for serving
Directions
Put the rice in a medium bowl and fill with cool tap water. Run your fingers through the rice, gently swooshing the grains around to loosen the starch. Dump out as much water as you can and repeat until the water runs slightly more clear, another two to three rinses.
Drain the rice and transfer to a small or medium saucepan that has a tight-fitting lid. Pour in 2¼ cups cool water and bring to a boil over medium-high. Give the rice a stir to help keep it from sticking to the bottom of the pot, then cover and decrease heat to low. Cook without lifting the lid for 18 minutes.
While the rice is cooking, place a rack about five inches from the broiler heat source and set the broiler to high. Whisk the miso, honey, oil, ginger and grapefruit zest and juice in a large bowl. Season the salmon lightly with salt and add to the bowl. Gently toss to coat. Marinate at room temperature until the timer for the rice goes off.
Remove the pot of rice from the heat and let steam, covered, for 10 minutes, while you cook the salmon.
Using tongs, arrange the salmon on a foil-lined rimmed sheet tray. Make sure to leave the marinade on and spread any excess on top of the fillets. (This step will make for better browning.) Broil the salmon until glossy and charred in most spots, about 5 minutes for medium-rare or 7 minutes for medium. Your timing will also depend on whether or not you’d like a little char on top.
Uncover the rice and add the scallions and butter. Season with salt and several grinds of pepper. Fluff the rice with a rubber spatula until each grain is coated. Serve the salmon over the rice and add any of the toppings you desire.
Thank you for being a subscriber
Read past editions of the newsletter here.
If you’re enjoying what you’re reading, please consider recommending it to others. They can sign up here. Browse all of our subscriber-only newsletters here.
Have feedback? Send me a note at [email protected].
You can also follow me on Twitter (@jbouie), Instagram and TikTok.
Jamelle Bouie became a New York Times Opinion columnist in 2019. Before that he was the chief political correspondent for Slate magazine. He is based in Charlottesville, Va.
The post Charlie Kirk Didn’t Shy Away From Who He Was. We Shouldn’t Either. appeared first on New York Times.
