Charlie Kirk: Against Words, Not Humanity I always rejected his ideas. But his death is a tragedy — not because it happened to him specifically, but because such acts happen at all.

First and foremost, I want to express my deepest condolences to all of Charlie Kirk’s loved ones, as well as to those who witnessed his death firsthand. Losing someone is always painful, but being present at such a moment is a trauma that leaves an indelible mark. I am absolutely horrified that his wife and two young children had to see this with their own eyes.

Charlie Kirk was a man whose views I fundamentally opposed. He often stirred anger, disagreement, and even pain in me. Yet what happened to him in Utah is a tragedy.

Not because it was him, but because we have reached a point where the murder of a political opponent is possible. When a bullet silences a voice — no matter how sharp or dangerous that voice may be — we all lose, because at that moment it becomes clear that it no longer matters what opinions someone expresses publicly; they can meet the same fate as Charlie Kirk. And that is not a society I am willing to grow into.

That is why I am horrified to see people today downplaying or even celebrating his death. You cannot celebrate the death of a human being simply because you disagreed with him — because in that moment, you are committing the very same act we spent years condemning in him: denying humanity to those we see as our opponents. Such a response does not make us better or more just; it only places us on the same level we once stood against. And that makes us staggering hypocrites.

And I don’t even need to mention that his family is likely reading and absorbing these words and mockeries. For them, it was not a ‘man with conservative views’ who died, but a beloved person — a husband and a father. To celebrate that loss is cruel not only to him, but also to those who truly loved him and who now live with an irreplaceable pain and trauma.

What happened is a tragedy. Not because it happened specifically to Charlie Kirk, but because such a thing can happen at all. I cannot understand why the immediate response must be to divide this event into Democrats and Republicans, liberals and conservatives. This very way of thinking — that everything is measured through political camps — is part of what ultimately killed him.

Equally wrong are the liberals who rejoice in his death and the conservatives who exploit this tragedy to fuel their own propaganda. Because this is not propaganda — this is a human life. And if we once stood firmly against his claims that LGBTQ+ people were ‘unfit for a child’s eyes,’ then why are we not standing just as firmly against a child having to witness their own father die so cruelly right in front of them?

Such an act does not end the debate; it opens the door to even deeper polarization. Instead of showing that we can be more humane than Kirk was, we turn ourselves into monsters who celebrate another’s death. His murder does not make him defeated — it makes him a martyr, and that is the dangerous precedent. Anyone who celebrates his death only reinforces the narrative that his words were true, that his opponents know nothing but hatred. In doing so, they grant him a legacy far stronger than anything his own speeches could have given him.

Precisely because we stand firmly against his views, we should be the first to say clearly that his death is a tragedy. If we stay silent or celebrate, we betray the very values we claim to uphold. If we condemned his disregard for humanity, we cannot afford to act in the same way ourselves. It is in this moment that we see whether our principles are truly solid, or merely a reaction to a particular opponent. Opposition to his ideology must go hand in hand with the conviction that his life had value, and that such a death can never be justified.

This murder is a warning to all of us. The motive was not his politics or the specific values he promoted, but the simple fact that someone disagreed with him. Someone decided that this disagreement was reason enough to deprive his family of a beloved person. That is the moment when the final boundary between words and violence collapses. If we accept such a form of ‘solution,’ we are declaring that no life is untouchable and that disagreement can be an excuse for death. This is not a political question — it is a question of humanity itself and its limits.

I never agreed with his words, but I will never agree that death can be the answer — because my stance will remain the same no matter who such a thing happens to. 

And that is precisely the proof of my disagreement with his claims.