Who Is Really Responsible for Charlie Kirk’s Death?
Donald Trump as the Tom Buchanan of American Politics
F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby gave us one of literature’s most enduring portraits of reckless privilege. Tom Buchanan, arrogant and insulated by wealth, smashes lives and retreats into comfort. He never pays the price — others do. A century later, Donald Trump embodies that same archetype, with catastrophic consequences for American democracy. The profitable ecosystem of outrage I wrote about in “Let’s Be Honest About What Is Causing an Increase in Political Violence“ has found its perfect avatar in Donald Trump.
Charlie Kirk: The Modern Rush Limbaugh, Gone Too Soon
On September 10, 2025, conservative activist Charlie Kirk was shot dead while speaking at Utah Valley University. Kirk was the closest thing his generation had to a Rush Limbaugh — a fiery voice of the right, a loyal Trump ally, and a central figure in the culture wars. Whatever one thought of his politics, he was a young father of two who believed deeply in his cause. But unlike Limbaugh, who died comfortably of natural causes, Kirk became the victim of the volatile environment that Trump has created and encouraged.
The gunman will bear legal responsibility, but moral responsibility lies deeper. Trump has normalized political rhetoric that blurs the line between passion and violence. He encourages vengeance, frames opponents as existential enemies, and unleashes cycles of escalation. In such an atmosphere, it is only a matter of time before blood is spilled. Kirk’s tragedy illustrates how even Trump’s friends are not safe from the chaos he cultivates.
The Boomerang Effect of Chaos
Trump believes he can weaponize grievance for his political advantage - encouraging his supporters to intimidate opponents while keeping himself safely above the fray. But chaos, once unleashed, doesn’t follow party lines or respect loyalties. The same inflammatory environment that ignites right-wing extremists can just as easily ignite left-wing radicals.
This is Donald Trump’s fatal miscalculation: the belief that chaos can be controlled, that recklessness can be directed solely at his enemies. Kirk’s death proves otherwise. The chaos Trump cultivated to threaten his enemies ultimately consumed his friend.
The Wreckage of Institutions
Trump’s carelessness doesn’t stop at individuals. Like Tom Buchanan, who leaves broken lives in his wake, Trump leaves weakened institutions:
FBI agents, DOJ attorneys, and CDC scientists doing their jobs have been vilified, investigated, or forced out.
Public agencies have been hollowed out, filled with unqualified loyalists instead of experts.
The justice system itself is pressured to pursue Trump’s enemies, risking credibility in the process.
These are the professionals who, like Gatsby’s collateral characters, were simply caught in the orbit of the powerful. They suffer not because of misconduct, but because they were in the path of Trump’s recklessness.
The Cost to Ordinary Americans
The tragedy doesn’t stop with institutions. Trump’s carelessness harms the very voters who adore him:
Farmers have seen their livelihoods threatened by tariffs, subsidies weaponized for political gain, and climate chaos ignored
Workers face economic uncertainty, with jobs destabilized by erratic trade wars and unstable governance
Families risk losing health coverage, as efforts to dismantle the Affordable Care Act and weaken Medicaid fall hardest on the rural and working-class communities that form Trump’s base
The cruel irony is that those who worship him are often the ones most vulnerable to his policies, yet remain bound to him by loyalty and grievance. It’s the classic worshiping of false idols.
The Silent Complicity of Congress
Why do Republicans in Congress do nothing? The answer is simple: fear. Trump remains adored by the Republican base. To challenge him is to risk a primary loss, donor abandonment, or worse.
Even after Kirk’s assassination, when House Speaker Mike Johnson had the perfect opportunity to call for lowering the temperature of political rhetoric, he instead blamed “radical leftist violence” and changed the subject. And so they stay silent, justifying their inaction as political necessity. They rationalize cowardice as pragmatism. Silence becomes complicity. By refusing to confront Trump’s excesses, they enable them.
The American Tragedy Redux
Gatsby’s tragedy was chasing an illusion. Tom Buchanan’s was never facing consequences. Trump is no Gatsby; there is no tragic dream, only brute entitlement. He is Tom Buchanan: careless, destructive, insulated by wealth and power.
Charlie Kirk’s death is not an isolated act of violence. It is a symptom of a culture where leaders inflame divisions, institutions are bent to personal will, and enablers excuse themselves. As Tom moved on, Trump will retreat into the world of Mar-a-Lago.