Terrorism is intended to send a violent message, targeting persons who symbolize or encapsulate the perpetrator’s animus. Even though the details concerning Charlie Kirk’s assassination have been the subject of ideological rancor, his death is the latest politically motivated murder that tragically distills human life into the collateral damage allegedly required to communicate an assailant’s censorious message.
For Americans, assassinations always strike a profoundly unsettling chord. These attacks are highly selective and, paradoxically, entail a deeply personal but simultaneously distant relationship between a killer and his prey. The killer “knows” his prey in an abstract and even caricatured way that then personalizes their relationship in a direct and targeted manner through violence. The deeply personal nature of Kirk’s assassination was evident in the messages attributed to the alleged gunman, Tyler Robinson. The messages do not clearly establish his ideological beliefs. A note allegedly found under his computer keyboard identified his unsuspecting victim: “I had the opportunity to take out Charlie Kirk and I’m going to take it.” A text message from Robinson to his reported transgender lover also emphasized the personal nature of his motivation: “I had enough of his hatred. Some hate can’t be negotiated out.”
A similar bloodthirsty motivation was offered by Luigi Mangione, who is charged with using a partially 3D-printed firearm, known as a “ghost gun,” to assassinate United Healthcare CEO Brian Thompson. Mangione reportedly considered detonating a bomb but decided to use a firearm instead, so he could avoid causing additional casualties. “It’s targeted, precise, and doesn’t risk innocents,” he wrote in a notebook recovered by law enforcement officials. A desire to carry out targeted violence also seemingly drove Vance L. Boelter, the murderer who systematically hunted Democratic state politicians in Minnesota, killing Speaker of the House emerita Melissa Hortman and her husband this past June. In a letter addressed to FBI Director Kash Patel and written after the shootings, Boelter stated, “You should notice how I didn’t fire one round at any police officers and boy did I have plenty of opportunity…Because I support the police and don’t want to see them hurt.”
The tragic murder of two Israeli embassy staffers outside the Capitol Jewish Museum in Washington, DC in May followed a similar dynamic, involving a gunman inspired by a mélange of far-left and pro-Palestinian causes who systematically executed his two victims in the street, simply because they had attended an event sponsored by a Jewish organization and were presumably themselves Jewish (one of the victims, in fact, was Christian). The gunman elected not to continue his attack inside the museum, even though other unarmed civilians were in attendance, perhaps feeling his point had already been made.
Unlike more conventional terrorists, the individual actors described above did not strike congregations of their perceived enemies or attempt to kill them en masse, whether they be Jews, Republicans, Democrats or somebody else. They identified individual people — in the streets or at public events or even in their homes — and then executed them.
Contrast their approach with Oklahoma City bomber Timothy McVeigh’s plotting thirty years ago. When asked whether he could not have achieved the same effect of drawing attention to his grievances by bombing a federal government building at night, without killing anyone, McVeigh replied: “That would not have gotten the point across to the government. We needed a body count to make our point.” 168 people perished, including 19 children, and hundreds more wounded when McVeigh detonated his truck bomb at the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building to make his anti-government “point.”
Although assassinations have a long history in America — including during the 1960s, when the lives of presidents and civil rights icons were cut short — the threat of such targeted murders is on the rise again. Unfortunately, concrete data is hard to come by in the United States because domestic terrorism figures are not collected and reported by any government agency. However, the National Counterterrorism Innovation, Technology, and Education Center (NCITE) at the University of Nebraska-Omaha, which tracks threats to public officials, finds that “2025 is on track to see more federal charges for threats against officials than any year they’ve tracked, dating back to 2013. Both 2023 and 2024 set new highs.” Last year, former President Donald Trump narrowly survived an assassination attempt in Butler, PA, that killed a supporter. Like Tyler Robinson, Vance Boelter, and Luigi Mangione, the would-be assassin did not neatly fit into any ideological bucket, instead having apparently been driven by profoundly personal grievances that he took to the grave.
Although assassinations may be less deadly than an indiscriminate bombing or mass shooting, they wreak profound psychological damage on civil society. Democratic lawmakers across the country were already reconsidering their home security systems, given the Minnesota assassin’s violation of his victim’s private home, as well as the firebombing last spring on Pennsylvania Governor Josh Shapiro’s official residence. Their Republican and conservative counterparts are most likely making these same types of calculations now. Congress, as well as state and local lawmakers, would be well-served to determine what steps they can take to provide additional security for politicians in both the major parties given the current climate.
In addition, recent plots appear to involve a salient stalking dynamic, where perpetrators systematically fixate on their victims. In Memphis, TN, a 25-year-old was charged in June with stalking after he was found with a Taser gun and rope, which he allegedly planned to use while kidnapping Mayor Paul Young—a Democrat. In Ohio, Republican and Jewish Rep. Max Miller, was “run off the road” by a driver waving a Palestinian flag. The driver was arrested for “aggravated menacing.” Boelter was also charged with stalking, having “deliberately lured public servants to their own doorstep.” And in late June, a lone gunman who claimed to be going “into battle” set brush fires in Coeur d’Alene Idaho in order to lure firefighters, before he opened fire in an ambush, killing two. Each of these incidents occurred within weeks of one another, underscoring a worsening threat environment.
Rather than rejecting this trend, Americans thus far appear to be growing increasingly accepting of violence. Sadly, support for political violence shifts depending on which party is in power and who is targeted. For instance, a survey taken by the Chicago Project on Security and Threats in May found that 40 percent of Democrats were willing to use force to remove Trump from office, a number that corresponds roughly with similar responses among Republicans during President Joe Biden’s administration. Violence today is often celebrated by fellow partisans as necessary and cleansing, with victims mocked and their security concerns dismissed as exaggerated. Utah Senator Mike Lee, for instance, baselessly claimed that the Minnesota shootings were the result of “what happens when Marxists don’t get their way.” And, just hours after Kirk’s murder, President Trump pinned the blame on the “radical left” and “the organizations that fund it and support it” without any evidence whatsoever about the gunman or his motive. More than two weeks later, authorities have still only charged one individual; they have not yet alleged that any “organizations,” much less a broader political movement, had a hand in the heinous murder. As political divisiveness and the devaluing of human life become more widespread, abetted by the darkest corners of social media, more violence seems inevitable.
Indeed, at a time when targeted violence exacerbates America’s growing political divide, we should not be surprised by the upward spiral of assassination threats. Mangione, for instance, became an overnight sensation and social media folk hero with his story featured in a musical now playing to sold-out audiences. The flags of foreign terrorist organizations have also become regular fixtures at demonstrations and protests throughout the United States. And, last February, a rally was held in New York City’s Washington Square Park to celebrate the life of Hassan Nasrallah, the Hezbollah leader killed in an Israeli air strike. Nasrallah was second only to Osama bin Laden with the blood of Americans on his hands. Finally, on his first day in office, President Trump pardoned more than 1,500 January 6th convicts and defendants, while commuting the sentences of 14 others. Among the defendants granted clemency were those convicted of seditious conspiracy (arguably the most serious criminal offense in the United States), as well as dozens of rioters and extremists who had assaulted law enforcement officers at the U.S. Capitol.
Americans can no longer turn to their political leadership to avert the catastrophe of political violence. Elected officials routinely post falsehoods on social media, issue sweeping accusations, and cast aspersions that cater to their constituents by playing to extremism on both sides of the ideological spectrum. Exploiting division and furthering polarization has sadly become all too common in American politics today. It will take a grass roots response from a population tired of the erosion of civility, entrenched intolerance, and zero-sum mindsets to turn back the rising tide of violence. Until America reaches its “I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take this anymore” moment — immortalized in the epic, post-Watergate film, “Network” — the fractured polity will produce more tragedies like Kirk’s murder, as well as repeated attempts to stifle civil debate and discussion.
