Gorka: The Reasons Behind Charlie’s Death

Remembering the Impact of Terrorism and the Loss of Charlie Kirk

Today marks the anniversary of one of the largest terrorist attacks in recent history. It’s a solemn occasion, but something has cast a shadow over it: the assassination of my friend, Charlie Kirk.

As I write this, I’m on my way to Shanksville, Pennsylvania, accompanied by my White House counterterrorism team. We’ll pay our respects alongside a family that gathers here every September 11th, listening to the names of loved ones—mothers, fathers, siblings, and children—who lost their lives that tragic day. But today feels different, heavier, perhaps.

What we witnessed yesterday still feels surreal, and I know I’m not the only one struggling to process it.

In the Oval Office, when the news broke—President Trump announced, “Charlie’s dead”—there was an immediate understanding that washed over the room. Fast forward six hours, and at home with my wife, we were glued to the wall-to-wall coverage of an event in Utah when one of us quietly said, “He’s gone.”

But why? What exactly did Charlie do that led to this? Was it simply that he never attended college? Yet, he had built a multi-million dollar national organization with thousands of members spanning schools and universities across the country.

Or was it his expertise? He could discuss in-depth issues, ranging from moral philosophy to economic systems, engaging with qualified experts. Perhaps it was his connections—friendships with President Trump, Vice President Pence, and other significant figures in the administration?

But the truth is, he was targeted for living honestly and openly. Charlie’s values were not just for show; he actively embodied them. He was a Christian, a devoted family man, and a patriot who loved America sincerely, which, ultimately, cost him his life.

I can’t forget our conversations, especially those at our Friday events, where we often tackled intricate topics. I once told him, “Please take the weekend off,” to which he replied, “I’ll read your messages but won’t respond until Monday.” He took the Sabbath seriously, dedicating time to his family and faith. At the time, I found it hard to believe someone could disconnect in such a hyper-connected world.

But he meant it. Charlie was a man of his word, living the very values that many of his political opponents despised. That was, in essence, his “crime”—being a patriot, a true Christian, and an extraordinary communicator. His ability to motivate and inspire was invaluable, and it was allowed to flourish until this point.

I always admired Charlie—not just for his intellect or courage, but for his humility. We had our differences; we don’t always see eye to eye on issues like the war in Ukraine, but those disagreements never stood in the way of our friendship. Instead, he would reach out, eager to hear my perspective and challenge my thoughts. He wasn’t just an ideologue—he was someone who sought truth and genuine discourse.

Twenty-four years ago, passengers on Flight 93 learned of the other hijacked planes and chose to act. Leading the charge, Todd Beamer and others decided to retake control. Their rallying cry? “Let’s roll.”

We cannot let Charlie’s leadership and example fade. We will tread the same path of truth, undeterred. Because we, too, must be right and good in the face of adversity.