Charlie Kirk’s death was tragic. Regardless of your partisan affiliation or opinion of him, I think the entirety of the nation came to a halt on Sept. 10 when a single shot rang out and hit Kirk in the neck. His assassination was a painful reminder of how deadly and frequent political violence has become in a nation empowered by guns.
Let’s not misconstrue, however, the sadness of his death with Kirk’s legacy of hate and radical right-wing extremism.
On Oct. 29, there will be a “Faith and Freedom Night” on Stanford’s campus, inspired by Charlie Kirk. I take no issue with the event: it exercises every student’s right to freedom of speech, and it’s no question that the tragic circumstances of Kirk’s deserve mourning and grief. However, I worry that this event will aggrandize Kirk as a champion of civil discourse, a hero or even a martyr for the Republican Party. On a national level, this has already started to happen.
In a recent Opinion piece, Elisha Bareh — organizer of the event — writes, “What struck me most about [Charlie Kirk] was his calmness. I thought he spoke clearly, listened carefully and never seemed threatened by disagreement … He seemed genuinely interested in hearing from others.”
This isn’t entirely true. In a Politicon panel, Charlie Kirk angrily screamed at a left-wing commentator Cenk Uygur, saying: “I live like a capitalist every day Cenk. Come on Cenk, let’s go.” Students who debated Charlie Kirk describe his attitude towards civil discourse as wanting to “verbally defeat them” rather than find commonalities and bridge divides, which is a core tenet of civil discourse. In a time where political polarization is rife and Americans are increasingly hesitant to reach across the aisle, one could argue that Kirk fostered some sort of discourse, but to call it “calm” or civil would be false.
Moreover, Faith and Freedom Night is supposed to rise above politics. Although I can respect mourning the dead, I find it hard to extricate Charlie Kirk’s life mission as a political activist from his death, which also ended as a result of his ideas. Does depoliticizing Faith and Freedom Day simultaneously oversimplify Kirk’s legacy? When we remember Charlie Kirk, I think we should also remember his ideas.
Kirk regularly attacked the rights of minorities and furthered false ideas about climate change and illegal immigration. Some noteworthy opinions he had involved opposing the Civil Rights Act of 1964, advocating for women to attend college in the pursuit of a husband and stating that “It should be legal to burn a rainbow or [Black Lives Matter] flag in public.” Not only were Kirk’s ideas hateful, they were untrue. He spread myths that climate change lacked scientific consensus and that Kamala Harris, the former Vice President, bore responsibility for all undocumented immigrants in the country.
Bareh claims, “Kirk believed that truth was worth defending and that conviction meant standing firm even when it was unpopular.” What some have failed to recognize, however, is that Kirk’s speech was not just his truth or opinion. It was name-calling, vilification of the opposite party and calling for dangerously regressive policies reminiscent of the rhetoric Trump’s administration has ushered in since 2016. Kirk’s “conviction” to “standing firm” in what he believed in isn’t necessarily something to celebrate either. Successful civil discourse requires openness to new ideas, not rigidity in thought. Charlie Kirk’s hostile rhetoric sought to divide half of the country rather than unite it.
To be clear, my goal isn’t to contribute to political polarization on campus, but to instead caution against modeling civil discourse off a confrontational extremist like Kirk. I wish for more spaces on campus where students can openly and respectfully disagree — something that has become increasingly rare in a campus policed by cancel culture. In this way, I appreciate Bareh welcoming students from all ends of the political spectrum to attend Faith and Freedom night. However, I hope that, contrary to Charlie Kirk, those who attend this event discuss politics without hate and hostility.
On Oct. 29, Faith and Freedom Night will take a moment of silence to remember Charlie Kirk. During that time, I also ask attendees to make space for political martyrs who truly furthered justice and human rights: Saint Oscar Romero for his outspoken support of the poor, Berta Cáceres for her vehement defense of indigenous land and Martin Luther King Jr. for his commitment to civil dialogue and nonviolent protest in the pursuit of civil rights.