In wake of murders, we do not want to go back in time

In his life's work, Charlie Kirk, the rising star in conservative politics, did not give me, or millions of Americans like me in the political center or left, a great deal of optimism about the direction of our nation's partisan politics. But his brutal assassination, captured in horrific video images none of us can unsee, poses a dire threat to our democracy, and it is the duty of all of us, regardless of political loyalty, to renounce and defuse any further political violence. I deplored Kirk's politics. I still do. But his politics did not merit violence of any kind. In the outpouring of rage that followed the news of his shooting, many voices on the right, from the exalted studios of Fox News to the lowest sloughs of social media, bayed that the "left" did this, and that the left would pay. I didn't wish violence on Charlie Kirk. Nobody I respect, or even know, wished for it. Quite the opposite. I actually appreciated Kirk's success at motivating young people — mostly disenchanted and disengaged young men — to engage in politics as a means to building the nation they wanted to live in. Kirk's energy, dedication and talent in that direction were truly impressive. What, I sometimes wondered, were the folks on my side of the political divide doing to reach out to the young in this way? Who was our movement builder? Kirk is gone, and I know what that must feel like to his friends and admirers on the right. But we have had more than enough wacky politically motivated violence in recent times. We have barely recovered emotionally from the June assassinations of Minnesota Rep. Melissa Hortman, her husband, Mark, as well as the attempted assassination of Minnesota State Sen. John Hoffman and his wife, Yvette, and daughter Hope. Hortman and Hoffman were Democrats, as were most of the 70 potential targets found on a list compiled by the suspected assassin, Vance Luther Boelter. Boelter was indicted in July by a federal grand jury on six counts, some of which carry the death penalty. We don't know his motive, although it seems to have been political. But I'm unaware of any Democratic politician or voice with any reach in American politics that called for reprisal for his crime with violence. Indeed, Boelter's crimes were cited by Democrats and others after Kirk's assassination to counter claims by President Trump and others that political violence was a problem produced by "radicals on the left." In stark contrast to how politicians should act at times like this — namely, calling for unity and calm and for allowing justice to take its course — Trump, certain members of Congress and an unfortunate stream of voices in right-wing media sounded more eager to throw more kerosene on the fire. Give the internet hotheads a chance and they'll come through with talk of "war" and radicalization. Trump already was in full-tilt crackdown mode, insisting that conservative extremists have been radicalized for legitimate reasons. As I write this, news is trickling out about the suspected assassin. His profile does not quite match the one imagined in the immediate aftermath of the shooting. That has cooled some of the rhetoric, and I hope this trend continues. As someone who has promoted free speech, regardless of which side is trying to speak out, I hope that Democrats and Republicans can approach this crisis with compassion, humility and self-reflection, and even learn some things from the other side. Remember that California Gov. Gavin Newsom invited Kirk to be the first guest on the Democratic governor's "This is Gavin Newsom" podcast in March. Among other interesting things that emerged from that encounter was Newsom's admission that his 13-year-old son wanted to stay home from school to meet Kirk, whom he followed on TikTok. I understand. My own adult son has become my unofficial right-wing political adviser, filling me in on who Kirk was and how he seems to have more pull with a feisty, irreverent sector of the "manosphere" than the more conventional pols (who are better known to an old geezer like me). But as an old geezer, I remember the sort of tit-for-tat violence that plagued this country in the 1960s — and I dread its possible return. A wave of anti-war and civil rights protests turned into assassinations of Martin Luther King and Malcolm X, and the shooting of George Wallace, among other casualties. I have no desire to see the return of such eruptions. Neither does Michael Fanone, the former Metropolitan Police officer who was beaten almost to death by the Jan. 6 mob at the U.S. Capitol. "I have nothing but contempt for Kirk's politics," said Fanone in a Facebook post after Kirk's death. "He poisoned young minds with grievance, conspiracy, and hate. But violence has no place in American politics. None." And "if you cheered this shooting," he declared, "you're no better than the mob that chanted for Mike Pence's hanging." "Violence is not politics," he said, urging Americans to wise up "before democracy itself is lost." Fanone learned first-hand what the threat of democracy slipping away feels like. He'd rather not feel it again. Neither would I.