By Samuel Clench

Copyright news

How striking it was that, at Charlie Kirk’s memorial in the United States today, the final words were delivered not by his wife, Erika, but by a politician.

If ever there were a moment for Donald Trump to cede the spotlight, this was it. Instead he claimed it for himself, bumping Mrs Kirk to the warm-up spot, and then using her as an on-stage accessory to kiss, hug and hold hands with once he was done.

Sorry, that sounds harsh, but it’s what he did. As always, Mr Trump had to be the main attraction. The centre of attention. Even when he showed up, at that stadium in Arizona, with little of value to offer.

The result was a jarring contrast, and an event with a botched, muddled theme.

Mrs Kirk, and a select few of the speakers who preceded her, set up quite a beautiful theme, actually. One of grace and forgiveness. Then Mr Trump trampled all over it.

It’s curious that two people who are almost perfectly aligned, politically, delivered almost diametrically opposed messages. Perhaps even mutually exclusive messages. The crowd in front of them didn’t seem to notice, cheering both with equal enthusiasm.

First, we heard from a grief-stricken widow, who spoke movingly about her faith in the aftermath of unimaginable horror and, in an extraordinary moment of grace, said she was willing to forgive the person who murdered her husband.

Then we heard from a politician focused on grievance, and palpably hungry to farm the tragedy for his own advantage. No forgiveness from him. Just venom for his opponents, and a wish that the alleged killer receive “the full and ultimate punishment”.

You can read Mr Trump’s full speech here if you suspect I’m being unfair. Do note how bizarrely self-referential it is. How he takes time, in a speech memorialising a friend, to brag about his tariff policies, and double down on his threats to send the military into American cities, and foreshadow an imminent announcement on health policy, and insist for the gazillionth time that the 2020 election was rigged against him.

As if any of those things were remotely relevant to the occasion.

This is not how a normal person handles a speech at someone’s memorial. When a eulogy was needed, all Mr Trump could muster was one of his standard political rally monologues, with passages about Mr Kirk inserted between the usual lines.

Here’s the quote that matters, though. It’s one of those classic Trump “jokes”, which are delivered as tongue-in-cheek, thus granting plausible deniability, but so often reflect his real actions and attitudes.

“He was a missionary with a noble spirit and a great, great purpose. He did not hate his opponents. He wanted the best for them,” Mr Trump said of Mr Kirk. So far, so good.

“That’s where I disagreed with Charlie. I hate my opponent. I don’t want the best for them. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Erika.

“Maybe you can convince me that’s not right. But I can’t stand my opponents.”

It was delivered with a Cheshire cat grin, and the crowd laughed obligingly. No word of a lie in there, though. We have all seen, over the last decade, how Mr Trump feels about dissent.

Sorry, did I say the last decade? I meant last week.

By contrast Mrs Kirk, in her speech, stressed that her husband “wanted to save young men just like the one who took his life”.

“That young man, I forgive him. I forgive him because it’s what Christ did. The answer to hate is not hate,” she said.

“The answer, we know from the gospel, is love, and always love. Love for our enemies.”

That doesn’t necessarily mean Mrs Kirk would oppose the death penalty for Mr Kirk’s alleged murderer; in a New York Times interview over the weekend she said she preferred to leave that decision to prosecutors.

But her words today, delivered in such unimaginably torturous circumstances, rose to the moment. It’s not exactly hard to be a bigger person than the one who killed her husband. But to be a bigger person than the political bigwigs who surrounded her? That’s different. And Mrs Kirk stood five feet taller than all of them.

“There was no pain, there was no fear, no agony. One moment Charlie was doing what he loved, arguing and debating on campus. Fighting for the gospel. In truth. In front of a big crowd, and then he blinked. He blinked and saw his saviour in paradise. And all of the heavenly mysteries were revealed to him,” she said in one moment.

There were many like it. Moments even someone like me, with admittedly no connection to scripture, and sometimes contempt for such things, could recognise as beautiful.

She stood out as inspiringly genuine among a procession of cynical performers.

Before Mrs Kirk spoke, several members of Mr Trump’s cabinet and family got their turn. Secretary of State Marco Rubio. Health Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. Director of National Intelligence Tulsi Gabbard. Each provided small moments of insight. Each also, transparently, was seeking not to grieve or heal, but to impress.

The most egregious offenders, for me, were Defence Secretary Pete Hegseth, the President’s eldest son Donald Trump Jr, and Vice President J.D. Vance, who together could fill a complete Olympic podium for hypocrisy.

They quoted extensively from scripture and hailed Mr Kirk as a defender of family, and of Christian values – values none of them come close to embodying.

Mr Vance hailed Mr Kirk’s commitment to free speech, after a week spent telling Americans to rat each other out; to punish each other for speech he deems wrong.

He and Mr Hegseth, in particular, framed America’s political landscape as a “spiritual war”.

“He is a martyr for the Christian faith,” said Mr Vance.

The White House’s Deputy Chief of Staff, Stephen Miller, popped up with his usual charm.

“We will prevail over the forces of wickedness and evil. They cannot imagine what they have awakened. They cannot conceive of the army that they have arisen in all of us,” he said.

“Because we stand for what is good, what is virtuous, what is noble. And to those trying to incite violence against us, those trying to foment hatred against us: what do you have?

“You have nothing. You are nothing. You are wickedness, you are jealousy, you are envy, you are hatred. You are nothing.

“You have no idea the dragon you have awakened. You have no idea how determined we will be to save this civilisation, to save the West, to save this republic.

“What will you leave behind? Nothing. Nothing.”

A reminder, here, that Mr Kirk was shot dead by one person, in a nation of well over 300 million people. We don’t yet know what radicalised the alleged gunman. Yet we had folks like Mr Miller, Mr Hegseth and others, today, speaking in apocalyptic language. As though half the country is not only against them, but wants them dead. As though it’s a holy war.

It’s an attitude of us vs them, and the “us” – conservative, Christian, take your choice – is being persecuted. It is the opposite of what that broken country needs. It’s nakedly escalatory, at a time when tensions need to be doused.

How is it that, among a field of people who would consider themselves great thinkers, including the President of the United States, the person who could find the most grace within them today was the one with the most to grieve? The most cause for resentment? The most understandable reasons to wallow in hatred and anger?

According to her New York Times interview, Mrs Kirk now has, around her neck, a pendant her husband was wearing when he was murdered. It’s still stained with his blood.

“No one will ever forget my husband’s name, and I will make sure of it,” she said.

There is a cause worthy of pursuit. One others are trying to hijack.