I'm Isaac Saul, and this is Tangle: an independent, nonpartisan, subscriber-supported politics newsletter that summarizes the best arguments from across the political spectrum on the news of the day — then “my take.”

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Today’s read: 15 minutes.

Quick hits.

1. A gunman shot and wounded two students at a high school near Denver, Colorado. The suspect is believed to have been a student at the school and died of a self-inflicted gunshot. One of the victims remains in critical condition. (The shooting)
2. The Senate Banking Committee voted 13–11 to advance the nomination of Stephen Miran, a top White House economic advisor, to become a Federal Reserve governor. Miran was nominated to replace former Fed Governor Adriana Kugler, who resigned in August, and he would serve through the remainder of her term if confirmed. (The vote)
3. The Senate voted 51–49 to table an amendment to the annual National Defense Authorization Act that would have forced the release of files related to the Jeffrey Epstein case. (The vote)
4. Poland invoked Article 4 of the North Atlantic Treaty after its military shot down several Russian drones that violated its airspace. NATO member states held talks at the organization’s headquarters following the incursion. (The latest)
5. Three former Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) agents sued FBI Director Kash Patel and U.S. Attorney General Pam Bondi, claiming that they were improperly fired for political reasons. (The suit)

Today’s topic.

Charlie Kirk’s assassination. On Wednesday, Charlie Kirk, a conservative political activist and commentator, was shot and killed at an outdoor event at Utah Valley University. According to university officials, Kirk had been speaking for about 20 minutes when a single shot rang out, appearing to strike him in the neck. Officials said they believe the shot was fired from a building about 200 yards away, and the suspected shooter is still at large.

Kirk, 31, was among the most prominent conservative influencers in the United States and a staunch ally of President Donald Trump. In 2012, at the age of 18, he founded Turning Point USA (TPUSA), a conservative advocacy group that primarily operates on high school and university campuses. Kirk rose to prominence on social media and was known for engaging young students in lengthy and provocative debates. He developed a close relationship with President Trump and played a key role in his 2024 campaign, leading get-out-the-vote efforts in swing states. 

On Wednesday, Kirk was participating in the first of 15 planned events billed as “The American Comeback Tour,” where he would take part in a live debate with attendees. He was shot at approximately 12:20 PM local time, then rushed to the hospital, where he died. Utah Department of Public Safety Commissioner Beau Mason said the suspected shooter was wearing dark clothing and may have fired the shot from the roof of a campus building. Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) Director Kash Patel announced on Wednesday evening that a subject was in custody but later shared that the person had been released. The FBI says the suspected shooter is still at large and has set up a digital tipline for information about the shooting. Investigators reportedly found a .30 caliber hunting rifle near the scene with three unspent rounds in the magazine, allegedly inscribed with political statements. 

TPUSA released a statement confirming Kirk’s death, writing, “May he be received into the merciful arms of our loving savior, who suffered and died for Charlie. We ask that everyone keep his family and loved ones in your prayers.” President Trump also honored Kirk in a post on Truth Social, writing, “He was loved and admired by ALL,” and ordering American flags to be flown at half mast until Sunday.

Republican and Democratic leaders also released statements mourning Kirk and condemning political violence. In a speech on Wednesday, Utah Gov. Spencer Cox (R) called the shooting “a political assassination,” adding, “Our nation is broken. We’ve had political assassinations recently in Minnesota. We had an attempted assassination on the governor of Pennsylvania. And we had an attempted assassination on a presidential candidate and former president of the United States and now current president of the United States.”

Today, we’ll share reactions from across the political spectrum to Kirk’s death. Then, my take.

Agreed.

• Writers on the right and left express horror and sadness at the shooting.
• Commentators condemn the act and note the rising tide of political violence in the U.S.

What the right is saying.

• The right honors Kirk’s legacy, with many noting the ways he personally impacted them.
• Some say Kirk’s assassination only amplifies the power of his voice and ideas.
• Others worry about the impact of increasingly frequent political violence. 

In USA Today, Dace Potas said “Charlie Kirk gave young conservatives a voice. We'll feel his loss for years to come.”

“I mourn another instance of awful political violence, stressing the fabric of our country. A man was killed for fighting for what he thought was right, and he leaves behind a wife and two young children. That should sadden us all,” Potas wrote. “America is better off as a place where people can exchange ideas freely, without fear of being killed or otherwise persecuted. Charlie understood this ideal and fought for it. If his death leads to anything, it should reinforce that feeling in us all.”

“There are a few people who have the bravery to go in front of massive crowds on hostile turf and debate political ideas. He gave young conservatives like me a role model of someone who was not afraid of speaking his mind despite whatever accusations or threats were thrown his way. He was routinely met with threats of violence and continued to do what he did,” Potas said. “Charlie was one of the voices who sparked my interest in politics when I was a young conservative on campus, and I know I am far from the only one. He always encouraged young conservatives to be unapologetically true to themselves, and we still must be.”

In The Washington Examiner, Tiana Lowe Doescher suggested “Charlie Kirk was murdered for winning the war of public persuasion.”

“A 3-year-old girl and a 1-year-old baby boy will grow up never knowing their father. His wife, a bubbly blonde podcaster who posts about her love of Christ and her family, is now a 36-year-old widow. Hundreds of employees who work in jobs that Kirk created, and millions of fans, will mourn his loss,” Doescher wrote. “The worst irony about the appalling event that is Kirk’s murder is that he had dedicated his last months on Earth to warning us all that this societal conflagration of political violence was ratcheting up. Back in April, Kirk took to X to share a study showing that 49% of Americans identifying left-of-center said it was at least partially justified to murder Elon Musk, with the majority saying it was at least partially justified to murder Trump.”

“While some could quibble with the substance of his arguments, there’s no question that in his core mission, to win the war of public persuasion politely, Kirk won in spades. And that is why Kirk died as he lived. He was too successful for his own good. While it’s too soon to say who the shooter was, there’s no question that the killer felt Kirk would continue to win if he was allowed to keep speaking,” Doescher said. “We all pray that Kirk is now in his eternal peace with Christ. I can only speculate, but I suspect that given the choice all over again, Kirk would still choose to die standing than live his life on his knees. May we all live in his courage and refuse to let him die in vain.”

In National Review, Mark Antonio Wright wrote about “the abyss of political violence.”

“What is the point of politics? What’s the point of constitutions and elections and the rule of a law? What’s the point of free speech and debate and the right to assemble and petition the government? We have these things — our civilization has developed them — because the alternative to politics is violence. The alternative to politics is the pursuit of power at the edge of the sword — or at the point of the gun,” Wright said. “When a man shot Charlie Kirk on the campus of Utah Valley University today, what America witnessed was the assassination of a citizen who had done nothing but voice his opinions and organize an assembly to discuss matters in the public interest.”

“We cannot become numb to this. It doesn’t matter what Kirk’s politics are, what political causes he has supported, or which politicians he’s associated with,” Wright wrote. “We are staring into the abyss. The moment when Americans of goodwill abstain from entering the public arena — as politicians, as activists, as citizens — will be the moment we refuse our God-given right to govern ourselves. If we are cowed by violence and the threat of violence into staying silent and avoiding political discourse, we are no longer free.”

What the left is saying.

• Many on the left praise Kirk’s commitment to free speech.
• Some worry that the assassination could destabilize American society. 
• Others say political violence — and the response to it — poses a unique threat.

In The New York Times, Ezra Klein wrote “Charlie Kirk was practicing politics the right way.”

“The foundation of a free society is the ability to participate in politics without fear of violence. To lose that is to risk losing everything. Charlie Kirk — and his family — just lost everything. As a country, we came a step closer to losing everything, too,” Klein said. “You can dislike much of what Kirk believed and the following statement is still true: Kirk was practicing politics in exactly the right way. He was showing up to campuses and talking with anyone who would talk to him. He was one of the era’s most effective practitioners of persuasion.”

“American politics has sides. There is no use pretending it doesn’t. But both sides are meant to be on the same side of a larger project — we are all, or most of us, anyway, trying to maintain the viability of the American experiment. We can live with losing an election because we believe in the promise of the next election; we can live with losing an argument because we believe that there will be another argument. Political violence imperils that,” Klein wrote. “Kirk and I were on different sides of most political arguments. We were on the same side on the continued possibility of American politics.”

In Vox, Zack Beauchamp said “our country is not prepared for this.”

“In the past, the American democratic consensus has been strong enough to survive assassination attempts. Some, like the murder of Martin Luther King Jr., tested its bonds but didn’t break them. Others, like the assassination of John F. Kennedy Jr., may actually have strengthened them by creating a sense of shared grief and solidarity,” Beauchamp wrote. “But now the American political system is crumbling, and many of its tools for containing political violence lie shattered. This probably will not be the event to break America, but we have to consider the possibility that it may be.”

“Under conditions of extreme polarization, when the guardrails of mutual democratic toleration are blown to bits, it is all too easy to see how things could spiral out of control. Leading right-wing figures are not only already prematurely blaming the attack on ‘the Democrat party,’ but also calling for law enforcement crackdowns on liberals and leftists as a group,” Beauchamp said. “If Trump acts on these calls, it would further damage the democratic respect that stands between us and the abyss. Future rounds of political violence would become increasingly more likely. Violent breakdown of the democratic order would loom.”

In The American Prospect, David Dayen wrote about “political violence and the reality distortion field.”

“America has often been on the brink of deciding that it is intolerable to live among one another. There have been secession threats for as long as there has been a country. In recent years, it has been dealt with through a kind of whispered segregation, where we ideologically sort ourselves among ideological lines,” Dayen said. “But we cannot divorce ourselves entirely. We come together in the noisy black hole of our social media feeds, where we read the heaviest users tell lies about each other and perform what can only be described as perpetual incitement. And that definitely feels like what happens right before societies break, and turn on each other.”

“If political violence is seen as opportunity, a chance to reinforce an image of the political opposition as extremists and proper subjects for hatred and even revenge, that will change the country, irrevocably, and for the worst,” Dayen wrote. “You cannot reasonably experience this president and deny his role in this coarsening of American politics. But it’s bigger than that; it’s part of the way politics is mediating through distortion fields and lies. Feeding a culture of vengeance and normalizing it as part of politics cheapens everything this country has stood and fought for.”

My take.

Reminder: “My take” is a section where I give myself space to share my own personal opinion. If you have feedback, criticism or compliments, don't unsubscribe. Write in by replying to this email, or leave a comment.

“When people stop talking, really bad stuff starts. When marriages stop talking, divorce happens. When civilizations stop talking, civil war ensues. When you stop having a human connection with someone you disagree with, it becomes a lot easier to want to commit violence against that group. 

What we as a culture have to get back to is being able to have reasonable disagreement — where violence is not an option.”

— Charlie Kirk

31 years old. Married. Two kids under the age of five.

That’s really all you need to know about Charlie Kirk in the end. It’s most of what is important. He was a human being. 

When I first heard the news, I didn’t believe it. Then I saw the video. There was Kirk, speaking before an audience, microphone in hand, when a crack splits through the air. His body goes stiff, his neck explodes with blood, his head falls back. Pure chaos ensues. 

I didn’t think it was real. Or I thought it was real, but I couldn’t process it — of course it's real, it’s right there — but I wanted so badly for it not to be. I could only watch it once. My stomach turned.

I’m going to spend one sentence directly sharing my views about Charlie Kirk’s political positions: I vehemently disagreed with him on some things, and I thought he offered a great deal of needed clarity, often with courage, on others. 

Kirk made a living off of debating people. Most people know him through the viral, 30-second clips of him hitting someone with a closing slam dunk to “win” an argument. Yes, Kirk often framed his content as “owning” the left — but his goal was persuasion. Yes, he often went to college campuses and goaded (then ran circles around) sophomore lit majors on topics he was far more knowledgeable about — but if you watched his events in long form, you’d see something different, something far more empathetic. 

He was trying to persuade not just the person he was talking to but everyone watching, and then welcome them into his political movement. He would allow people to frame an argument, and then he’d ask follow-ups; he sought clarity on what they were saying, he made sure he understood them, and then he made his case. I remember the first time I watched a full video of one of his events. Having only been familiar with the 30-second dunking videos, I was seriously surprised by the tone — how often he said “that’s fair” or “that’s a good point” or “I understand why you think that” before he went into action — often in ways I found deeply alluring. 

Kirk was especially keen to compel young people, and young liberals, to the conservative cause. And he didn’t just operate where he had advantages; he’d debate political rivals, sitting down with people like Democratic California Gov. Gavin Newsom. He chose a righteous path of talking to people from across the aisle. In his own words, he did what he did because “when people stop talking, that’s when you get violence, that’s when civil war happens.” 

He did not use violence; he used words. He did not use pressure; he used intellect. He wasn’t a bully; he was a preacher. He wasn’t seeking enemies — he was trying to recruit allies. He was damn good at what he did, too, and smarter and better read than the vast majority of his critics. Even when he was saying things I disagreed with, I found myself raising my eyebrows and nodding at the sly and devilish way he made his points. I’d always wanted to interview him, in large part because I wanted to see how I could stack up with him on the issues where those disagreements lie. I wanted to see if I could hold my own, or maybe even inch him toward my perspective. 

Charlie Kirk used his great gift to inch others towards his perspective, moving an entire generation of voters rightward. He did this by speaking to them, directly, on terms they could relate to. By walking into the lion's den of critics and telling his story. And he was brave — he exposed himself to an unbelievable amount of criticism, he held views that people often didn’t voice before he voiced them, and he faced constant threats on his life (which he spoke about publicly). He was not a coward; he did not hide behind a rifle from hundreds of yards away. He stood up and said his truth, and he did it peacefully.

For this, someone put a bullet in his neck. 

I know it’s not wise to make presumptions about motive before we have a suspect in custody. For now, though, I am going to make a presumption — one I feel confident in — that in this era of political violence, someone killed Kirk for his political rhetoric. If that presumption turns out to be wrong, I’ll be the first to correct the record here in this newsletter. But right now, I have to say it’s the outcome I find most plausible and most obvious (initial reports that investigators found anti-fascist and transgender rights messages on bullets in the gun they believe the shooter used support this presumption). I wish, fervently, that I had faith in the current FBI leadership to find his killer and flesh out what happened with an honest investigation — but instead I’ve got a terrible pit in my stomach that they are not equipped for this moment. They are not off to a good start. 

I also know it’s unwise to sanctify the recently deceased and pretend Kirk was always the best of us. He was, at his worst, a partisan flamethrower who reveled in saying inflammatory things, who sometimes framed his political opponents as evil enemies. Perhaps that piece of the story is important — that Kirk was capable of, and sometimes enjoyed, turning the temperature up. 

But then I see a video of his daughter running into his arms backstage, and I think, “What are we even talking about?” What deranged inclination inside of me wants to analyze his methods of discourse when someone murdered him in cold blood? Why do his political views matter even one iota?

I’ve watched in horror as some people have celebrated or mocked his death. I’ve seen this reaction mostly in spaces like Bluesky, bastions of far-left discourse, and I believe (and hope) they are not the norm. Most people, including most of my liberal friends and the liberal pundits I follow, are horrified — as we all should be. But enough are celebrating, making jokes, or posting derisive comments to leave me sick to my stomach. 

So let me put it differently: This could have been me. 

I came up in the same era as Kirk. I never got to meet him personally, but I know a lot of people who have. I never had anything close to a platform as large or influential as his, but we swam in some of the same waters. I’ve spoken at events he’s spoken at. I’ve been on podcasts he’s been on. I’ve done TV hits with anchors he’s been interviewed by. He was just a few years younger than me, and I watched his stardom take off as a YouTube personality, podcast host, political organizer and public speaker at the same time I was trying to build my own, albeit very different, media brand. 

I see the things people say about someone like Charlie Kirk — that he’s enabling fascism or has blood on his hands — and then I see similar people level the same accusations against me. Not just anonymously on X or in my inbox, but in the comments sections of the very media company I built. I see people say that “being a moderate” is giving way to authoritarianism on the right, that I’m a secret Trumper, that I’m the worst kind of pundit because I pretend to be fair but I’m not, that I’m spreading blood libel, that people will die because of my views. In this business, people call you evil or send their hate mail, and you respond to some but try to ignore most of it. “It doesn’t happen here,” you’ll think. “The threats aren’t real.”

But they are. And it does. 

There are a lot of very angry, highly motivated, deeply unwell people out there, some of whom have fixated on me in the past. It’s hard to shake the feeling — the urge to flee. To shut up. To get out of Dodge. The incidents of political violence in are many — they come from all sides — and the problem does not seem to be getting better. 

Yesterday, the Tangle Instagram account posted about Kirk’s death. One of the most common responses, which an alarming number of people repeated, was copying and pasting a quote from Kirk about gun rights, in which he argues that we will never live in a society where we have gun rights and no gun deaths, and says the “cost” of some gun deaths every year is a “prudent deal” to maintain our Second Amendment rights to protect against tyranny.

I’m not sure what these commenters intend to convey by copying and pasting Kirk’s quote. I suppose the point is that this quote, this view, means Kirk should die? That his death is deserved? Or perhaps they think it is funny and quippy and clever to post a “gotcha” quote about him while his body lies dead in the hospital from a gunshot wound?

Even if you want to interpret his statement as uncharitably as possible, here is my response: Is the punishment for Charlie’s position the death penalty? Is the punishment for believing something you find abhorrent being killed? I’d like to know more about how this logic works and how I can extend it to other issues. Should every woman who believes in abortion rights be condemned to miscarriages in pregnancy? Is that rationale a just view for pro-life conservatives to hold? 

What are we doing here?

I knew from following Kirk that he had two young children. There is a very memorable clip of Kirk going on the Whatever podcast and describing what it’s like being a dad. In the wake of his death the clip is now going viral, and rightfully so. It’s a nice window into who he was. In it, Kirk says that nothing he’s experienced — not flying on Air Force One or meeting presidents or any of his professional successes — compares to the simple pleasure of coming home and having his daughter run up to him and hug his leg. And when you watch him say it, you can tell he really means it. He’s not putting on a character, he’s trying to convince the hosts in front of him — and the listeners of the show — that they will find tremendous meaning and happiness in creating a family. He’s genuinely expressing his love for the life he’s been delivered.

My son was home sick from daycare yesterday when I got the news. So my first instinct was to run upstairs and grab him from our babysitter, to smell his little head and kiss him and nibble on his toes and try to make him laugh and tell him I loved him. I just walked around the house with him for a few minutes to try to breathe.

Then a wave of utter despair and nausea came over me. 

Here, in “My take,” my North Star promise is to give you my honest view. It’s to say what I really, truly believe, and nothing more. And most days, the truth of the matter is that I am an optimist — I am hopeful about our country and the people that inhabit it and our resilience against the scourge of division and conspiracy and hate.

But today, this is my truth: I don’t know where we go from here. This country, this society — it feels irredeemable on days like this. I’m watching influential conservative voices declare civil war. MSNBC analysts are on air justifying Kirk’s murder (and justifiably getting fired for it) while guests are suggesting that maybe he was shot by a supporter “shooting their gun off in celebration.” Kirk was the one trying to do it with persuasion, the one trying to go into these bastions of liberalism and talk them to his side; he was, in simple terms, a young guy who held pretty standard Christian views that, 30 years ago, were near ubiquitous in our country (and are still incredibly popular). And now political pundits on national TV are rationalizing his assassination. 

Amid all this, a breaking news alert: At least two students have been shot in a school shooting in Denver.

Truthfully, the whole thing just makes me want to quit — to coil up and get out of the arena and do something else. I expressed this feeling to our Editor-at-large Kmele Foster, who urged me to remember that “we are on the side of the angels here” — and I know what he means. We are doing the very thing we need to pull us back from the brink: bringing together disparate political groups, creating dialogue, exposing people to viewpoint diversity in hopes of making us all a bit less extreme. Maybe Kmele is right. But how do I take the stage at our event in California in a few weeks after seeing what I’ve seen now? How do I get on the plane and leave my family? 

Charlie Kirk is dead. Assassinated. The words don’t feel real on the page, but there they are. 

Two beautiful young children will grow up without their father; vengeance will be promised, and maybe even delivered. We have now had several chances to realize where we are and do something about it — Trump’s assassination attempt, the killing of Brian Thompson, the killing of Melissa Hortman — but we moved on. We buried it or joked about it or, God forbid, celebrated it. The rational among us hoped it would get better. Then we went right back to the most extreme, divisive, incendiary rhetoric we had.

When we can see clearly the threat before us, what will we do? What are we made of, really?

I pray. I hope. I beg that we can find a new path — but my take, my truth, is that I fear we’ve stepped into the abyss. 

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Under the radar.

On Wednesday, a paper published in the journal Nature reported that a sample obtained by NASA's Perseverance rover on Mars contains signs of ancient microbial life on the planet. The sample, a reddish rock, contains ring-shaped features and dark marks that may have been produced by chemical reactions involving microbes. The discovery is considered one of the strongest pieces of evidence yet that Mars once supported life. Reuters has the story.

Numbers.

• 2012. The year Charlie Kirk founded Turning Point USA (TPUSA).
• 18. Kirk’s age when he founded TPUSA.
• 3,500. The approximate number of college campuses where TPUSA is active.
• 250,000. The approximate number of student members of TPUSA.

The extras.

• One year ago today we covered the Harris–Trump debate.
• The most clicked link in yesterday’s newsletter was the surveillance video of Iryna Zarutska’s stabbing (warning: graphic content).
• Nothing to do with politics: The lightning-struck “miracle tree” in Bolivia.
• Yesterday’s survey: 3,655 readers responded to our survey on Iryna Zarutska’s killing with 83% saying increased availability of mental health resources would have been a reasonable action that could have prevented her death. “Our entire justice system needs to be changed, it is neither justice nor a system,” one respondent said.

Have a nice day.

In 2010, the Memphis Islamic Center bought land next to the Heartsong Church in Cordova, Tennessee. With religious tensions still high after 9/11, members of both the Islamic and Christian communities felt very nervous about their new neighbors. “I felt that ignorance and that fear,” Heartsong’s then-pastor Steve Stone said. “So I prayed.” 

Dr. Bashar A. Shala of the Memphis Islamic Center expressed fear of his own. “We did not expect to be welcomed,” Dr. Shala said. “We thought we’d have to work hard.” 

Each community did work to be welcoming and kind to one another, instead of giving way to their own feelings of distrust. Now, each community has grown through bonds of interfaith friendship; together they co-sponsor coat drives, food drives, and every year — close to the anniversary of September 11 — they alternate to lead a community blood drive.

“I would have never thought that I would be friends with Muslims, and I love it,” Mark Sharpe, a Heartsong congregation member, said in 2016. “It’s kind of like my world got bigger.” Good Good Good has the story.