On September 21, 2025, tens of thousands gathered at State Farm Stadium in Glendale, Arizona, for a memorial service that was anything but ordinary. The event honored Charlie Kirk, the conservative activist and founder of Turning Point USA, who was shot and killed at a Utah university just eleven days earlier. Kirk’s assassination on September 10 sent shockwaves through the American political landscape, igniting a fierce debate over the meaning of his life, the direction of the conservative movement, and the boundaries of political discourse in a deeply divided nation.
President Donald Trump, Vice President JD Vance, Secretary of State Marco Rubio, and a host of administration officials and MAGA luminaries filled the stage, each offering their own vision for what Kirk’s legacy should mean for America. According to CNN, Trump headlined the memorial, declaring, “He’s bigger now than ever before. And he’s eternal.” Trump also announced from the podium that he would award Kirk the Presidential Medal of Freedom, an honor reserved for those seen as shaping the nation’s destiny. The crowd, described by CNN as numbering in the tens of thousands, responded with a mixture of somber reflection and raucous applause.
But the story of Charlie Kirk’s death—and the response to it—was never going to be straightforward. Kirk was a polarizing figure, even within his own party. As The Washington Post noted, some conservatives resented his willingness to take aim at fellow Republicans, notably his role in ousting Ronna McDaniel as chair of the Republican National Committee. Yet, in the wake of his assassination, those divisions seemed to melt away, replaced by a sense of unity that, as former RNC communications director Keith Schipper put it, was reminiscent of Trump’s own effect on the GOP. “For the MAGA movement, to see once again a leader get shot, and this time, the killer succeeded in their mission, I think it kind of shows at this point where we can have our disagreements, but now is a time that we just need to be united,” Schipper said to The Washington Post.
This unity was codified in Congress, with both the House and Senate passing a resolution designating October 14 as a National Day of Remembrance for Charlie Kirk. The move, rare in its bipartisan support for such a controversial figure, underscored the symbolic weight Kirk’s death had taken on within the Republican Party.
At the memorial, Trump’s speech oscillated between eulogy and campaign rally. He praised Kirk’s missionary zeal and Christian faith, calling him “a missionary with a noble spirit and a great, great purpose.” Yet, Trump also drew a sharp distinction between his own approach to political opponents and Kirk’s. “He did not hate his opponents. He wanted the best for them,” Trump said, before adding pointedly, “That’s where I disagreed with Charlie. I hate my opponent. And I don’t want the best for them.” Trump then shrugged and offered a half-apology to Kirk’s widow, Erika, admitting, “It just wasn’t in my DNA.”
Erika Kirk’s speech was arguably the most moving moment of the day. Standing before the vast crowd, she recalled the heartbreak of losing her husband, but also the comfort she found in his faith and the mission he left behind. “He left this world without regret. He did 100% of what he could every day. But I want you to know something: Charlie died with incomplete work, but not with unfinished business,” she told mourners. In an emotional crescendo, she forgave her husband’s accused assassin, quoting Jesus: “Father, forgive them, for they not know what they do.” Erika explained, “I forgive him because it is what Christ did.” She vowed to continue her husband’s work, taking up the mantle at Turning Point USA as CEO and chair of the board, promising, “every part of our work will become greater.”
The rhetoric at the service was, at times, fiery. White House deputy chief of staff Stephen Miller declared, “We stand for what is good, what is virtuous, what is notable. And to those trying to incite violence against us, those trying to foment hatred against us, what do you have? You have nothing.” Vice President JD Vance, who flew back with Kirk’s body on Air Force Two, implored supporters to honor Kirk by fighting for faith, truth, and country: “For Charlie, we will rebuild this United States of America to greatness. For Charlie, we will never shrink, we will never cower, and we will never falter, even when staring down the barrel of a gun.”
Yet, the response to Kirk’s assassination was not confined to the right. Some of his most vocal political rivals, including progressive influencers and debate opponents, publicly mourned his death and denounced the violence. Dean Withers, a 21-year-old political influencer who frequently clashed with Kirk online, broke down in tears during a live stream, insisting, “He doesn’t deserve that man. Him and his family, they don’t deserve that.” Withers later rebuffed critics who accused him of being too empathetic, saying, “This is not about party lines, so don’t f***ing make it about party lines.”
Hassan Piker, a prominent Twitch streamer and left-wing commentator, was set to debate Kirk at Dartmouth University just days after the assassination. On his stream, Piker called the killing “devastating,” and when viewers made light of the tragedy, he reminded them, “This is the most horrifying thing I have ever seen.” Tilly Middlehurst, who debated Kirk at Oxford on women’s rights, told the BBC she was “shaken and disgusted.” She posted on Instagram, “Political violence like this affects all of us, it doesn’t just affect the people that you disagree with. This isn’t a step in the right direction. This isn’t fighting fascism.” Naima Troutt, a University of Southern California student who debated Kirk in a viral video, condemned all gun violence on TikTok and urged, “Mind your karma, watch what you put online.”
The memorial also served as a rare public reunion for Trump and tech billionaire Elon Musk, who had been at odds in recent months. According to CNN, Kirk had acted as a mediator between the two, and Musk posted a photo on X of himself with Trump at the event, captioned, “For Charlie.”
As the crowd dispersed, the message was clear: Kirk’s death had become a rallying point, not just for his supporters, but for a broader conversation about the dangers of political violence and the boundaries of public discourse. While the right found new unity, the left reflected on the human cost of escalating rhetoric. As Erika Kirk promised to carry on her husband’s work, and as Congress prepared to mark a National Day of Remembrance, the legacy of Charlie Kirk was being rewritten in real time—by admirers and adversaries alike.
