In State Farm Stadium's shadow, under the same lights raining down upon Super Bowls and spectacles of empire, tens of thousands gathered on September 21, 2025, for Charlie Kirk's funeral. It was promoted as a funeral. It was, in fact, a resurrection ritual.
The 31-year-old Turning Point USA co-founder who had been just gunned down at a Utah campus rally a few days earlier was reborn in that instant—not as victim, but as martyr. Red, white, and blue flags waved in the air. Faces equated grief with grievance. And the choreography of the event enacted what it was actually about: a fascist liturgy, consecrating Kirk as saint and warrior in a holy war for the nation's soul.
A Rally in Disguise as a Eulogy
It wasn't jus another service. With the Department of Homeland Security numbering it alongside the Super Bowl, TSA checkpoints and federal agents ringed the arena. Inside, the mise-en-scène rivaled Nuremberg, slogans reading "NEVER SURRENDER REMEMBER CHARLIE KIRK" plastered everywhere, minute-long ovations, minute-long chanting of "We Are conservatives." uniting tens of thousands into one body politic.
Pastor Rob McCoy invoked scripture. Benny Johnson declared Kirk a martyr "in the true Christian tradition." President Trump and Vice President JD Vance granted the power of state, the latter vowing Kirk's podcast to endure in his voice.
It was liturgy as logistics: grieving became mobilization, grievance as grief, Kirk's body being transformed into relic.
Christian Nationalism at the Core
At the center of this theater pulsed Christian nationalism—the fusion of evangelical zealotry with the mythology of a white ethno-state. Kirk himself embodied the archetype: young, white, straight, railing against queer and immigrant "threats" to "traditional values." His memorial sanctified that role, turning him into warrior-saint.
"Raise your hand if Charlie Kirk brought you closer to Christ," Johnson bellowed. Erika Kirk promised to carry the cross of her husband's work, linking Christian faith with organizational expansion. This was not mourning. It was theocratic infrastructure building, comparable to Modi's Hindutva in India or Orbán's illiberal Christendom in Hungary.
Kirk's death was framed not as a random shooting but as leftist terrorism assassination. His Calvary, America's salvation.
Stephen Miller's Inferno
The most telling moment came with Stephen Miller, Trump's Deputy Chief of Staff for Policy and Homeland Security Advisor. His six-minute half-elegy, half-edict speech laid out the fascist machinery in motion.
"You thought you could kill Charlie Kirk? You've immortalized him," he shouted, portraying a lone gunman as the emblem of a huge "left-wing terror" movement. The crowd applauded. The foe had been named. The purging was at hand.
Miller's repetition, "We are the storm," deliberately echoed Nazi propaganda regarding Horst Wessel, the murdered SA officer martyred and whose blood sanctified violence. As Wessel's blood sanctified the volk, Kirk's blood sanctified the MAGA faithful now.
The intention was clear: grief became state power. Miller pledged to bring the full palette of Homeland Security and Justice upon "identifying, disrupting, dismantling and destroying" the targeted networks that had killed Kirk. Policy violence wrapped in holy vestments.
From Ritual to Repression
And this is the fascist shift: language as edict, eulogy as dictum. Already, the regime threatens to investigate "left-wing factions" that "gloated" over Kirk's death. Vance urges supporters to cause "trouble" for critics online. Miller's "righteous indignation" becomes cover for deportations, ramped-up detention, and dismemberment of programs for vulnerable communities.
Bodies most at risk—trans kids, immigrants, Palestinians, Black activists—get converted into fuel for re-empowerment of white Christianity. The memorial, then, was not closure but opening shot.
Organizing Infrastructure
For Turning Point too, it was building infrastructure. Its biggest event ever, the memorial sowed new chapters, validated the fusion of spectacle and surveillance, and made Kirk a sainted disciple of Trump's.
Sergio Gor, longtime MAGA operative, declared Kirk "all Trump, personified MAGA." Trump himself described the legacy "automatic." But this "immortality" is based upon the violence Fanon warned against—the violence of the colonizer coming full circle in fresh resistances.
What Resistance Demands
And here is the danger: silence. The left's failure to speak out against the Christian supremacism that is at the heart of MAGA lets the narrative go unchallenged. To counter, we have to give voice to those Kirk attempted to silence—migrants, queer children, Indigenous water protectors, campus activists demonized as "snowflakes."
We have to uncover the monument not as tragedy but as template. Its message: fascism born on a cross and waving a flag. Its method: martyrdom rendered as mandate.
Kirk's death is a manifestation of the polarizing he engendered. His canonization is the metastasis of the symptom. And Miller's storm is not theirs alone. History tells us that storms cut both ways—where the dispossessed rise, as well.
The decision is ours: to relinquish the narrative or to construct otherwise. To name, to disassemble, to dream a pluriverse beyond the fever fantasias of white Christian empire.