In the hours following the shooting of conservative activist Charlie Kirk at Utah Valley University, Governor Spencer Cox stood before the press and offered a prayer. But it wasn’t for the victim’s family, or for a nation reeling from yet another act of political violence. It was a prayer that the perpetrator would be someone from “another state” or “another country.” In his own words: “For 33 hours, I was praying that if this had to happen here, that it wouldn't be one of us — that somebody drove from another state, somebody came from another country… Sadly, that prayer was not answered the way I hoped for.”
Governor Cox was hoping the killer would be an outsider. Preferably a foreigner. That’s not just a rhetorical misstep—it’s a dangerous invocation of the kind of scapegoating that has long fueled xenophobic policy and public distrust.
This kind of deflection is not new. It echoes the rhetoric of President Donald Trump, who just last year claimed Vice President Kamala Harris had “imported an army of illegal alien gang members and migrant criminals from the dungeons of the third world … from prisons and jails and insane asylums and mental institutions.” These words weren’t just inflammatory—they were designed to shift blame away from domestic failures and toward imagined foreign threats.
Donald Trump and the Rise of Political Violence
U.S. President Donald walks toward reporters while departing the White House on September 11, 2025 in Washington, DC. (Photo by Win McNamee/Getty Images)
Governor Cox’s remarks, whether intentional or not, reinforce a narrative that violence is imported, not homegrown. That’s a lie. And it’s a lie that has consequences.
The suspect, Tyler Robinson, is a resident of Utah. His arrest should have prompted a sober reflection on the conditions that allow radicalization to flourish within our own communities. Instead, Cox’s remarks implied that violence is somehow more palatable—less shameful—if committed by someone who doesn’t “belong.”
This framing is not only morally hollow, it’s statistically baseless. Immigrants, both documented and undocumented, commit crimes at significantly lower rates than native-born citizens. A 2024 study from the National Institute of Justice found that undocumented immigrants in Texas were arrested at less than half the rate of U.S.-born citizens for violent and drug crimes, and at a quarter the rate for property crimes. The Migration Policy Institute reports that immigrants are 60% less likely to be incarcerated than native-born Americans. The facts are not ambiguous: immigrants are not the threat.
What is a threat, however, is the persistent political impulse to deflect blame outward—to cast suspicion on the “other” rather than confront the rot within.
Pulitzer Prize-winning historian Jon Meacham framed the moment with chilling clarity: "Political violence erupts in America when there is an existential question—who is an American? Who deserves to be included in ‘We the people,’ or ‘All men being created equal’?” he said. “When that is in tension, when we don’t have common agreement about that, then, if you look at it historically, violence erupts." These are not rhetorical flourishes. They are the fault lines of a democracy under siege.
Political violence in America is not a foreign contagion. It is domestic, it is rising, and it is often fueled by rhetoric that dehumanizes, divides, and deflects. The bullets that killed Charlie Kirk were fired by someone born and raised in Utah. That fact should not be a source of shame—it should be a call to accountability.
Governor Cox later said, “We can return violence with fire and violence. We can return hate with hate… but at some point we have to find an off-ramp.” He’s right. But that off-ramp begins with truth. And the truth is: it was one of us. It often is.
Until our leaders stop praying for convenient villains and start confronting uncomfortable realities, the road ahead will only grow darker.
Meacham: Political Violence in America Linked to Deep Questions of Identity and Inclusion
"Who is an American? Who deserves to be included in ‘We the people" - Jon Meacham AI generated illustration
Hugo Balta is the executive editor of the Fulcrum and the publisher of the Latino News Network. Balta is the only person to serve twice as president of the National Association of Hispanic Journalists (NAHJ).
Democratic U.S. Senate candidate Graham Platner speaks to voters at a town hall at the Elks Lodge 188 on June 7, 2026, in Portland, Maine.
McConnell and Platner both feel entitled
The two men could not be more different. One, a Republican, octogenarian, seven-term Southern senator, the other a progressive, millennial Maine oysterman who’s never spent a day in elected office.
But Mitch McConnell, the senior senator from Kentucky who’s been MIA for the past few weeks and Graham Platner, the Maine Senate candidate who’s facing calls to drop out of his race against Sen. Susan Collins, apparently do have something in common: an outsized sense of entitlement.
McConnell, who is 84 and not running for reelection, has been hospitalized for three weeks, and yet we still don’t fully know what he was admitted for or what his condition is. Per CNN, “his office has not disclosed a medical reason for the hospitalization or provided specifics on his health status beyond saying last week that he ‘continues to improve’ and ‘is working closely with his staff on Kentucky and Senate matters.’ ”
While several legislators have said they’ve talked to him and insist he sounds strong, others have said they are completely in the dark. One MAGA influencer, Laura Loomer, posted ”High level source close to the White House tells me ‘Mitch McConnell is officially brain dead. He’s not coming back.’ ”
Meanwhile, up in Maine, Platner has been artfully dodging calls from his own party to drop out of his race after several allegations of misconduct from women, including a sexual assault allegation from a former girlfriend, came to light. While Platner, who has managed to survive a Nazi-tattoo scandal, a sexting scandal, and several old tweets scandals, denies the allegations, he has not quit.
High-profile Democrats including Sens. Bernie Sanders and Chuck Schumer, the latter of whom had unsuccessfully hand-selected Maine Gov. Janet Mills to face Collins instead of Platner, have urged Platner to drop out, while other Dems have accused him of trying to influence the picking of his replacement.
Maine Democratic Party Executive Director Devon Murphy-Anderson released a statement Tuesday, which said in part:
“Unfortunately, Graham Platner’s team has repeatedly reached out to us in an attempt to put their thumb on the scale of what this process looks like. We have repeatedly reiterated to Graham Platner’s team that they have no role in determining our next Democratic nominee for the U.S. Senate nor in determining what this process looks like.”
Both incidents show a deep lack of accountability to voters, who in one case deserve to know whether their senator is capable of performing his duties, and in another deserve a candidate who isn’t being accused of crimes, bigotry and deception.
The offensive and odious entitlement of both McConnell and Platner stands out not because it is particularly unique among today’s political class. Tom Kean, the New Jersey GOP congressman, missed more than 100 votes, only sharing after a three-month mystery absence that he was dealing with depression.
Former President Joe Biden’s Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin failed to disclose a hospitalization for prostate cancer surgery, flouting the established rules for Cabinet members and senior U.S. officials.
From Biden’s insistence on running for reelection despite his obvious cognitive and political weaknesses to Trump’s brazen flouting of laws and norms, few politicians seem to appreciate that their public service job comes with responsibilities to constituents, including transparency and honesty.
But both parties increasingly justify the chicanery, because the stakes of winning elections and keeping power are simply too high. But that’s no excuse. If we’ve learned anything over the past decade, it’s that character and accountability do, in fact, matter. And when we, the voters, stop caring about it, well, so do they.
S.E. Cupp is the host of "S.E. Cupp Unfiltered" on CNN.