FILE- In this May 22, 2018 file photo, students cross The Green in front of the Baker-Berry Library at Dartmouth College in Hanover, N.H. Dartmouth President Philip Hanlon announced Thursday, Jan. 3, 2019, a series of policies aimed at creating a learning environment that is free of sexual harassment and abuse of power at the school. The announcement comes nearly two months after seven current and former students sued the Ivy League college, accusing it of ignoring years of harassment and assault by former faculty members in the psychology department. (AP Photo/Charles Krupa, File)
FILE- In this May 22, 2018 file photo, students cross The Green in front of the Baker-Berry Library at Dartmouth College in Hanover, N.H. Credit: Charles Krupa / AP

It was a horrendous experience to watch Charlie Kirk, a prominent conservative activist and founder of Turning Point USA, being gunned down while speaking at a university forum in Utah. His murder was described by Utahโ€™s governor as a political assassination that has sent shockwaves nationwide, touching every corner of America โ€” even here in the Upper Valley and at Dartmouth College, where Kirk was scheduled to appear to a sold-out audience on Sept. 25.

The ruthless killer, a 22-year Tyler Robinson, comes from a conservative background. His motives are still being pieced together. A diffused climate of vitriol, social media radicalization, and political grievances could have poisoned his mind and drained him of any moral sense. 

For many, this heinous crime stirs deep grief. Some knew Kirk as a provocateur and fierce debater, others as a polarizing figure. Yet, all are united by shock and sorrow โ€” as are Dartmouth students and Upper Valley residents, who now grapple with the questions: How did we get here? Are our campuses safe? Can communities truly host ideas, even deeply opposed ones, without fear or hatred?

In talking with Valley Newsโ€™s Clare Shanahan, state representative and Dartmouth College government professor Russell Muirhead offered a historical and analytical view. Muirhead noted that political violence is not new in the U.S., referencing historical events like mob violence in Lincoln’s time; recent events such as the murders of Minnesota State Rep. Melissa Hortman, a Democrat, and her husband, Mark, in June; and the assassination attempt on Donald Trump.

He suggested that a key change in recent years is the role of social media, where politicians “get rewarded for stirring people’s passions and excite their fears,” leading to a climate where political opponents are seen as “enemies.” Muirhead opined that the future tone of American politics โ€” whether it becomes more violent or more respectful โ€” would depend on the example set by those in power. He also notes that the risks for public officials are much greater than in the past.

Across social media and at local vigils, mourners have called for healing. Dartmouthโ€™s planned debate was meant to foster genuine dialogue. Now it is time to ask: If debate dies with its speakers, what hope has democracy?

Political violence is an attack on all of us. Violence, whether aimed at conservative voices or progressive leaders, shuts doors, ends conversations and cracks the fragile framework of civic trust. It replaces words with weapons and turns differences into bloodshed.

We must condemn not just the act, but the culture that enables it. Leaders on all sides must reject violent rhetoric, online radicalization and the normalization of hate. Resilience, not retribution, should be our model. Our universities, our town halls, our living rooms โ€” these must be sanctuaries for speech and dissent, not arenas for intimidation or murder. Violence in the name of any cause is a betrayal of what campuses and communities are meant to represent.

Many now worry that controversial speakers will be silenced, debates canceled, and hard conversations abandoned out of fear. Policymakers, faculty and even students may self-censor, robbing communities of the chance to wrestle with the toughest issues of our time. If we remain silent, democracy will die. 

Dialogue is not always easy, nor is it comfortable. Yet it is indispensable. Dartmouth invited Charlie Kirk precisely because his views were controversial โ€” to allow a debate with progressive voices, to test ideas and to challenge assumptions. This is the essence of academic freedom and community resilience. The work of hosting uncomfortable ideas, of listening with civility and of protecting our principles is daunting, but itโ€™s the only way forward. 

What can we do? Should we give up? I believe communities like the Upper Valley must lead by example: keep hosting open forums and hold vigils for peace. But most importantly, we should ensure robust security โ€” not just physical but psychological โ€” against the threats of intimidation. Dartmouth and local institutions should recommit to principles of free speech, even amid controversy, and foster programs to inoculate students and citizens against the lure of political violence. 

We should honor the dead not by silence but by deeper engagement. Let Kirkโ€™s memory, and those of others lost to violence, kindle a renewed commitment to dialogue. Let their lives remind us to cherish disagreement โ€” not to fear it. Our democracy depends on our willingness to speak, listen and stay in the room together, even when it hurts. 

The Upper Valley and Dartmouth are not immune to divisions, but they can be models for resilience, civility and hope. The future depends on it. That said, we must not ignore state legislator Muirheadโ€™s admonishment that the โ€œrisks of being a public official now are much greater than in the past.

โ€œI think people who appear in public are thinking more about what kinds of spaces are secure and what kinds arenโ€™t.โ€ 

Narain Batra is a professor, historian, journalist and author whose work spans freedom, Artificial Intelligence, media and geopolitics. As host of the “America Unbound” podcast, he explores American power, technology and culture. He lives in the Upper Valley.