The Making of Modern Martyrs in the Digital Age
An AI-generated image shows Charlie Kirk in an embrace with Jesus. In another, he has angel wings and a halo. A third depicts him standing beside George Floyd at the gates of heaven.
When a prominent figure dies in the United States, their memory is often transformed into a saintly tribute, a process known as hagiography. This is precisely what has unfolded since the shocking, violent death of conservative activist and Turning Point USA co-founder Charlie Kirk.
The term hagiography originates from the Christian practice of writing about the lives of saints, but its application frequently extends into secular politics. Sociologists refer to this as the “sacralization of politics.” Assassinations, in particular, often lead to the deceased being viewed as a secular martyr who made a heroic sacrifice, portrayed as morally pure and righteous.
While this is a natural component of mourning, examining why it happens and how the internet amplifies it provides crucial insights into contemporary American politics.
The Historical Pattern of Political Sainthood
The creation of a saintly public image is not a new phenomenon. Consider the post-presidential image of Ronald Reagan. Republican leaders meticulously crafted his legacy into a symbol of conservative victory, carefully omitting scandals like Iran-Contra and his initial opposition to civil rights. Today, Reagan is often revered as a patron saint of free markets and patriotism rather than remembered as a multifaceted politician.
Similarly, Martin Luther King Jr. underwent a transformation among liberals. Mainstream remembrances often minimize his sharp critiques of capitalism, militarism, and systemic racism, presenting a simplified, more palatable image of a peaceful dreamer. While a national holiday and countless memorials honor him, they also tend to tame his radical legacy into a universally accepted story of unity.
Even figures like John F. Kennedy and Abraham Lincoln follow this pattern. Their assassinations triggered immense public mourning that elevated them to near-mythical status. For decades, Kennedy's portrait was a common sight in American Catholic homes, often near religious icons. Lincoln's memorial in Washington DC is designed like a temple, solidifying his role as a civic saint.
The Purpose and Peril of Creating Martyrs
The hagiography of public figures serves multiple functions. It addresses a fundamental human need to find moral clarity amidst chaos, helping communities process loss. It also serves political movements by sanctifying their leaders, which can consolidate power and discourage internal dissent. This process reassures followers that their cause is not just right, but divinely so.
In a polarized society, elevating a figure to sainthood transforms a political disagreement into a sacred battle. When someone is seen as a martyr, opposing their movement can be framed as an act of desecration. Hagiography is not merely about honoring the dead; it is a powerful tool for mobilizing the living.
However, this practice carries significant risks. Once a figure is sanctified, any form of criticism becomes taboo, making it difficult to discuss their flaws or controversial decisions. This flattens history and stifles democratic debate. After Queen Elizabeth II’s death in 2022, for instance, public mourning quickly simplified her complex reign into a story of unwavering devotion and service.
This process also exacerbates polarization. If one side's leader is a martyr, the opposing side must be inherently evil. This simple but potent framing was applied to Kirk. His supporters described him as a martyr for truth and free speech. President Donald Trump called him a “martyr for American freedom,” and Turning Point USA’s social media reinforced this narrative. By doing so, they cast his death as a symbol in the fight against censorship and implied that their political opponents resort to violence, despite evidence to the contrary.
How Digital Media Accelerates Canonization
While treating public figures like saints is an age-old practice, the internet has drastically increased its speed and scale. Social media has compressed what was once a slow cultural evolution into a rapid-fire production cycle.
Memes, livestreams, and hashtags empower anyone to participate in the canonization process. Following the death of NBA star Kobe Bryant in 2020, social media was instantly flooded with devotional art and videos that elevated him from an athlete to a spiritual icon of perseverance. Likewise, after Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s death, the “Notorious RBG” meme culture expanded to portray her as a saintly defender of justice.
These same dynamics were evident with Charlie Kirk. Within hours of his assassination, memes of him draped in an American flag and being carried by Jesus went viral. AI-generated audio clips framed as Kirk’s “sermons” circulated online, and supporters shared Bible verses they claimed aligned with the moment of his death. These digital artifacts collectively framed his death not as a political tragedy, but as an event of spiritual significance.
This type of content spreads effortlessly across social platforms, where narratives can solidify in hours, often before all facts are known. This grassroots sacralization, driven by user-generated content, transforms what was once the slow work of monuments and textbooks into a dynamic, living folk religion of modern politics.
Navigating a World of Digital Hagiography
Hagiography is an enduring part of public life because it fulfills deep emotional and political needs. However, recognizing its patterns can help citizens and journalists resist its manipulative effects. The goal is not to dismiss grief or admiration but to maintain a space for nuance, critical thinking, and historical accountability.
