The tragic death of Charlie Kirk, last September 10, has in recent months elicited shameful reactions of jubilation from hundreds of radical left-wing activists who, especially online, have ignored the principle of parce sepulto—the ancient precept according to which, if one cannot honor the dead, it is better to remain silent.
Over this brief period, however, thousands of people have at the same time (not only in the USA) expressed profound indignation at these reactions, and even numerous political opponents of Kirk have acknowledged the value of his witness. In the United Kingdom, it should be recalled, the Unite the Kingdom Rally also took place—an imposing demonstration in defense of conservative values and national sovereignty, organized by the controversial Tommy Robinson and punctuated by the cry Christ is King. More than 110,000 people are said to have taken part.
Pius XI reminded us that, since Christ is the Truth, He is first of all King of minds, of wills, and of hearts. We see every day how, without the true God, human intelligence loses its way and degenerates into ideologies.
For Kirk, there was no credible alternative: Christianity is the only pillar capable of holding together the moral and social fabric of a nation. Outside of Christianity, a nation can only slide into tyranny. Although he began from a Protestant perspective (he was in fact evangelical, although there are numerous testimonies that in recent months have spoken of his gradual yet unfinished approach toward Catholicism), Kirk had grasped in his own way a concept very dear to Catholic Tradition, so much so as to have been “sealed” even with a liturgical feast: the Social Kingship of Christ.
Last December 11 marked—indeed without much fanfare on the part of the Vatican authorities—the centenary of the promulgation of the encyclical Quas Primas, published in 1925 by Pope Pius XI and dedicated to deepening the necessity of recognizing Christ in society as the source of rights and of human dignity. In 2025, as is well known, the seventeenth centenary of the Council of Nicaea (325) also occurred, at which the Church solemnly proclaimed in the liturgical prayer of the Creed that Christ is eternal King, since “His Kingdom shall have no end.”
The murder of Charlie Kirk—guilty only of having fought in defense of Christian morality and common sense, and for this accused by many of his opponents of being a “hater,” to the point of justifying his death sentence—demonstrates how terribly current that magisterial document still is. Kirk’s murder reminds us that defending the social Kingship of Christ today can cost martyrdom.
In a world that seeks answers in science, in the State, or in fleeting emotions, the Church reminds us that truth, freedom, and love are manifested supremely in our striving to become conformed to Christ.
This truth emerges forcefully as soon as one recognizes, as Pius XI states at the beginning of that encyclical—echoing what he had already taught in Ubi arcano Dei consilio (1922)—that true peace among people does not arise from political treaties, international agreements, or strategies of military deterrence, but solely from the “peace of Christ in the Kingdom of Christ.” Those other worldly instruments may impose quiet, but they do not bring about true peace. Like a poorly broken horse that rebels against the reins until it unseats the rider, so a society without Christ, forced by institutions to repress its own impulses, will end up exploding and generating violence and conflict.
Pius XI reminded us that, since Christ is the Truth, He is first of all King of minds, of wills, and of hearts. We see every day how, without the true God, human intelligence loses its way and degenerates into ideologies. He is King of wills because by His grace He orients our freedom toward the good, not imposing Himself by force, but drawing us inwardly. He is King of hearts because His love, gentle and without measure, conquers without violence—indeed, it conquers all the more precisely because it proves effective without exercising force. In a world that seeks answers in science, in the State, or in fleeting emotions, the Church reminds us that truth, freedom, and love are manifested supremely in our striving to become conformed to Christ.
But what, concretely, is the Kingdom of Christ? Pius XI reminds us that it is a Kingdom that is first and foremost spiritual and founded upon a threefold authority that Christ exercises over each of us: legislative, because God has given us a Law that does not pass away; judicial, because He judges at every moment our good works and our sins; executive, because He exhorts us through graces to continue along the path of holiness and sends us chastisements when we stray from Him. And yet, this dominion is not oppressive: its laws are sweet, its yoke is gentle.
In an age marked by the dominance of state bureaucracies and ideologies that claim to regulate every aspect of life and even our most intimate thoughts, the Kingship of Christ appears more liberating than ever.
Socialism believes that society remakes man; Christianity says it is man renewed by Christ who renews society. The murder of Charlie Kirk shows us the outcome of the first false solution: when society claims to remake man without Christ, it ends up destroying him.
But the great difference between the peace of Christ and worldly peace is that the former is proper to a kingdom—as Pius XI again says—“principally spiritual,” which does not mean that it is devoid of repercussions in civil society. Attention: Pius XI does not write exclusively, but principally spiritual. This means that such a kingdom is not built with armies or parliaments, but is founded upon the converted heart and the interior life of each subject. Christ reigns when man recognizes his own misery and allows himself to be transformed by grace. For this reason, Christian peace is first of all a personal peace: it is born of forgiveness received and of conversion. Social peace, which one must certainly strive for, is an effect of interior peace in Christ Jesus alone.
Here lies the radical difference between Christianity and the great modern ideological systems of statist and socialist origin. Socialism promises peace by seeking to change structures, the economy, even language, and it believes that society remakes man; Christianity works the opposite way: it is man renewed by Christ who renews society. The murder of Charlie Kirk shows us the outcome of the first false solution: when society claims to remake man without Christ, it ends up destroying him.
The Kingdom of Christ is not a dominion that enslaves, but an order that elevates—an order that liberates.
Precisely because the Kingdom of Christ is not spiritual in an intimistic sense, it is also universal and social. Its dominion is not limited to believers, but embraces all humanity, because all things were created in Christ and for Christ. This means that the Christian message cannot be confined to the sacristy: it concerns politics, economics, culture, and the family. Recognizing the social Kingship of Christ does not mean “clericalizing the State,” but acknowledging that society endures only if it is founded upon divine and natural law.
Charlie Kirk had understood this very well and, though not Catholic, sought to make his dialectical opponents understand that the condemnation of abortion, assisted suicide, and queer ideology are not dogmas of the Christian religion—unintelligible and unacceptable without the gift of faith—but rather logical consequences of careful observation of human nature. And it is precisely in this that the Kingdom of Christ is beneficial. It is not a dominion that enslaves, but an order that elevates—an order that liberates.
The blood of Charlie Kirk cries out to us that the Kingdom of Christ is not a remote ideal, but an urgent necessity. Without Christ, the world plunges into hatred, revenge, ignorance, sin, and tyranny; with Christ, even the cruelest death becomes the seed and the promise of a new civilization. One hundred years after Quas Primas, the social Kingship of Christ is not a chapter of the past, but the only path of prosperity for all the nations of the Earth.
