The Violent Day
In a republic worth saving, power is contested at the ballot box, not through bullets.
There are moments in politics where partisanship must yield to principle, and this is one of them.
The assassination of Charlie Kirk is a moral abomination, a crime that wounds not only his family and community but the very fabric of our republic. However deep our political disagreements, however profound our disgust with the movement Kirk embodied, nothing justifies the silencing of a human being with violence. Political murder is the acid that corrodes democracy. There is not a single legitimate excuse or reason for this murder.
In a republic worth saving, power is contested at the ballot box, not through bullets. We resolve our disputes with words, not weapons. Not soft words, not whispered disputes, but big, loud, passionate arguments.
The Founders, for all their contradictions, understood this: The peaceful transfer of power, the protection of dissent, the sanctity of life in public service. We cheapen all of it when we allow blood to replace ballots.
I will not celebrate this act; those on the left cheering and mocking need a personal reset. I will not shrug it off. I will not wrap it in the tattered banner of “the other side had it coming.” Because if violence becomes the coin of our politics, America is finished. Every decent person should condemn this assassination without hesitation, without hedging, without a single “but.”
And yet, because we must speak the whole truth, we cannot allow this terrible crime to be weaponized into a lie.
Even as the body is carried away, the MAGA chorus and the Trump White House are already doing what they always do: Turning grief into grievance, mourning into manipulation. Their script is as familiar as it is cynical: all political violence comes from the left. Antifa. BLM. “Woke mobs.” “Trans assassins.” The “radical Democrats.” That’s the catechism, repeated endlessly until it becomes muscle memory.