They’ve been doing it for years — branding anyone who disagrees with them as a “Nazi” or “fascist,” shouting it in headlines, on campus stages, and across social feeds until it becomes background noise. That language doesn’t merely insult; it strips the target of humanity and makes violence feel like moral hygiene. We watched where that leads last Wednesday.
Charlie Kirk was gunned down while doing what he always did: speaking to students, debating people on the other side of the aisle, pushing back on established narratives, and making people think about the issues. The alleged shooter reportedly saw himself as an “anti-fascist hunter.” Police say shell casings recovered from the scene were engraved with taunts like “Hey fascist! Catch!” and even the anti-fascist anthem phrase “Bella Ciao.” Those aren’t idle slogans — they’re battle cries. They show the mindset of someone who believed political opponents weren’t people to debate but enemies to be erased.
For years, influential voices on the left have flattened complex political opponents into one medieval caricature: evil, beyond redeeming, deserving of exile. That rhetoric seeds a dangerous logic: if they are evil, then extreme measures are justified. Words like “Nazi” and “fascist” have been hurled so casually that the threshold for calling someone “beyond the pale” is nonexistent. The result is demonization, then dehumanization, and now — apparently — violence.
This is not theoretical. Young people are radicalized online and in echo chambers where moral absolutes replace nuance. They see professors, commentators, and activists declaring that certain institutions and people are intrinsically evil. Some cheer the thought of humiliation or punishment; others move from thought to action.
If our politics is to survive, we must put an end to the poisonous habit of equating disagreement with existential evil. Debate should be fierce but humanizing. If we keep insisting our opponents are monsters, we should not be surprised when someone tries to exterminate one.
Charlie Kirk’s death is a tragedy for his family and for a movement that loses a leader. It should also be a wake-up call: stop the name-calling. Stop the dehumanizing. Stop pretending that political enemies are enemies of humanity. The cost of not doing so is measured now in the worst possible currency — lost lives.