“This is a political assassination.”

On September 10,  political violence struck at Utah Valley University. Charlie Kirk, the 31-year-old founder of Turning Point USA and father of two young children, was shot dead by a sniper while speaking to students on campus. The assassin fired from a rooftop, hitting Kirk  in the neck during a speech advocating for open dialogue and debate.

Chaos erupted immediately. One student who witnessed the shooting described it: “It was chaos, people screaming, students running for cover. But what shocked me most was that, shortly after Charlie was shot, some people started applauding. I couldn’t believe it. It felt surreal, like the world had turned upside down.” The campus descended into confusion and fear, with security teams and law enforcement scrambling to secure the area and evacuate students.

Free Speech Under Fire

Leaders across the political spectrum condemned the act. The Governor of Utah emphasised the gravity of the killing, saying, “It’s a tragic day for our nation. This is a political assassination. Charlie Kirk was first and foremost a husband and a dad. He believed in the power of free speech and debate to shape ideas and persuade people. When someone takes the life of a person because of their ideas, our very constitutional foundation is threatened.” His words echoed the sentiment of a nation grappling with a violent attack on one of its youngest and most outspoken voices advocating liberty and intellectual debate.

Despite official condemnations, social media and public commentary revealed a troubling trend. Users celebrated Kirk’s death, framing it as justice for someone accused of “spreading hate speech,” even though his mission was far from hateful. He encouraged young people to think critically, debate openly, and challenge orthodoxies. His true offence was fostering independent thought in an era where ideological conformity is often demanded, and he became a target simply for promoting the free exchange of ideas.

President Donald Trump later addressed the tragedy, highlighting Kirk’s influence on a generation of young people: “Charlie was a giant of his generation, a champion of liberty, and an inspiration to millions and millions of people. We miss him greatly, yet I have no doubt that Charlie’s voice and the courage he put into the hearts of countless people, especially young people, will live on. I will be awarding Charlie Kirk posthumously the Presidential Medal of Freedom. The date of the ceremony will be announced, and I can only guarantee you one thing, that we will have a very big crowd.” Trump’s remarks underscored the far-reaching impact Kirk had beyond campuses and social media, shaping the thoughts of young Americans nationwide.

The hypocrisy is glaring. Many voices on the political left, who campaign tirelessly for gun control and decry conservative “danger” in defending firearm rights, were silent, or celebratory, when a rifle was used to assassinate a conservative figure. Violence is condemned only when convenient; excused or applauded when it serves a political agenda. The message sent is chilling: certain lives, and certain ideas, are deemed more valuable than others, depending entirely on the prevailing political narrative.

Selective Outrage in Tragedy

On May 25, 2020, the world watched the killing of George Floyd by a Minneapolis police officer. The video spread like wildfire, igniting global protests, toppling statues, and sparking urgent conversations about systemic racism. Millions of people marched across the globe. Corporations pledged billions in reform programs. Floyd’s name became a rallying cry, and his death a watershed moment, remembered as a turning point in modern American history.

Five years later, a very different killing raises troubling questions about how society measures which tragedies deserve outrage and which are largely ignored. On August 22, Iryna Zarutska, a 23-year-old Ukrainian refugee, was fatally stabbed on a Charlotte light-rail train. The attack was unprovoked. Zarutska had fled the horrors of war in Ukraine, seeking safety and a chance to rebuild her life in the United States. Her family described her as kind, hopeful, and full of dreams, a young woman who had survived immense hardship only to meet an untimely, violent death. The killer, a black man with a history of instability, was swiftly arrested and charged with first-degree murder.

Yet the response from society and media was minimal. There were no nationwide vigils, no marches demanding justice. No slogans proclaimed “White Lives Matter,” no murals were painted in her memory. Mainstream outlets covered the story as a local crime rather than a national tragedy, and social media engagement was low. Zarutska’s death should have provoked reflection on public safety, the refugee experience, and society’s moral obligations, but it barely rippled beyond the local news cycle.

Consider the contrast with George Floyd. His death was tragic, but it also fit a narrative the media and activists were ready to amplify: systemic racism, state oppression, and police brutality. Global outrage followed. Millions marched. Corporate pledges were made. Reform programs were proposed. Social media exploded. The murder of Zarutska did not fit a narrative that the media and activists were ready to tell, so it was largely ignored. Kirk’s assassination threatened the left’s narrative of who is “dangerous,” so it has been minimised or even mocked.

The pattern is clear. Outrage has become partisan. Empathy is conditional. Justice is selective. Some lives are elevated, others erased, depending not on the magnitude of the tragedy, but whether it suits political convenience. Kirk’s assassination, Zarutska’s murder, Floyd’s murder, the implications are dangerous. Political violence silences ideas and lives alike. If society can celebrate a man’s death for expressing ideas, ignore a refugee’s murder, and selectively protest based on ideology, the foundations of free speech, civil discourse, and the moral obligations of citizenship are threatened. Kirk’s assassination is a reminder: political violence silences ideas, not just individuals. As the Governor of Utah warned, “This is a political assassination.” These words apply not only to Kirk’s death but also to the broader culture of selective outrage. When media attention, street protests, and social condemnation are unevenly applied, society risks normalising political violence and eroding the very principles upon which the nation was founded, life, liberty, and the right to free expression.

If all lives do not matter equally, then the phrase “justice” has no meaning.