“Prove me wrong.”
That phrase from Charlie Kirk and his organization, Turning Point USA, has riled up many on the left for years. It’s a clear call to engage, yet it often just fuels the fire of frustration.
His assassination—well, it’s shocking, isn’t it? It’s unsettlingly familiar, especially in light of the recent attempted assassination of President Trump and the murders of two Minnesota politicians.
I first learned about the assassination while I was in Prague, preparing to discuss the rise of anger and the ongoing threats to free speech. Honestly, it was deeply upsetting. Charlie was someone I knew and admired for his readiness to challenge the dominant views on college campuses. We often face threats, some of them quite severe, but there’s always a glimmer of hope that these threats will remain just that—words rather than actions.
Now, Charlie’s wife, Erica, and their young kids are left to deal with the aftermath of this senseless violence aimed at anyone unwilling to remain silent.
When you really think about it, the shooter didn’t see Charlie as a father or even as a human being. That’s the insidious power of rage, isn’t it?
In my book, “The Essential Rights: Freedom of Speech in an Age of Wrath,” I delve into uncomfortable truths about people consumed by anger. It seems they not only thrive on rage but are also intolerant of differing opinions.
Charlie was audacious and unrefined. He never gave in to threats and encouraged others to voice their opinions on campus. He particularly held a mirror up to higher education, exposing the hatred and hypocrisy prevalent there. For years, conservative and libertarian viewpoints have faced sidelining in classrooms. Polls indicate that many students feel compelled to conceal their beliefs to avoid retaliation from faculty and peers.
Charlie aimed to alter this dynamic. TPUSA encourages engagement and conversation. In response, many on the left have sought to intimidate and dismantle those discussions. Just recently at UC Davis, police merely observed while a group destroyed a TPUSA tent.
Charlie’s fate, sadly, isn’t unique, and it’s likely he won’t be the last victim.
For quite a while, some of us have been cautioning about the rise in incendiary rhetoric. Some figures believe they can harness this anger; House Minority Leader Hakeem Jeffries (D, NY) even urged people to take action to “save democracy,” while sharing an image of himself wielding a baseball bat.
California Governor Gavin Newsom (D) has claimed, “I will punch these sons of b****es in my mouth.”
Groups like Antifa seem to thrive on this anger-fueled rhetoric. With a notorious history of attacking dissenters, they present a significant threat to free speech. In “Antifa: Antifascist Handbook,” Professor Mark Bray notes that many within Antifa view free speech as a mere illusion for the privileged.
The shooter, Tyler Robinson, 22, reportedly exhibited marks linked to Antifa, with bullets inscribed with phrases from anti-fascist anthems.
I’ve discussed the hazards posed by Antifa in Congress and cover it in my book, yet many political leaders have dismissed these warnings or even tacitly supported Antifa’s activities. Keith Ellison (D), a former DNC vice-chair and now Minnesota Attorney General, previously praised Antifa for instilling fear in Trump. Some merchandise even glorifies this violent group.
Political discourse has led to some admitting that their supporters are embracing violent rhetoric, and that’s concerning. There have been incidents of protests turning into violent outbursts.
Just before he was killed at Utah Valley University, Kirk rallied his group with that familiar chant, “Prove me wrong.” Tragically, someone responded with fatal violence.
Ultimately, this murder accomplished nothing except underscore the senseless hatred permeating our society. Someone chose lethal action rather than engaging in dialogue.
The absence of conversation and understanding has fueled such violence. Dissenting voices are becoming increasingly intolerable for those entrenched in rigid information bubbles.
As I prepared to process Charlie’s death in Prague, anti-free speech factions were already exploiting his murder to impose further restrictions on free expression, claiming it’s a necessary measure against hate and misinformation. It’s a profound dishonor to Charlie’s legacy, as he fought valiantly for free speech, pushing back against censorship.
Increasing censorship won’t quell the potential for political violence. It may instead facilitate the rise of future victims like Charlie. History shows us that extremists thrive when their voices are suppressed. In Europe, for instance, even neo-Nazi groups can turn themselves into victims.
Most of us face restrictions in our expressions. A poll found only 18% of Germans feel they can openly share their opinions. Even more disheartening is that 59% hesitate to express themselves privately, and merely 17% feel free to share their views online.
Charlie’s unmasking of leftist intolerance towards opposing views ruffled feathers, and by challenging others, he ignited a movement more focused on silencing adversaries than articulating its own stance.
He took a stand against cancel culture and the ostracism of dissenting voices, even at personal risk.
Conservatives who emerged from the shadows thanks to Kirk can honor his memory by refusing silence. They can continue his legacy by echoing his challenge: “Prove me wrong.”
