Every so often, a political stunt comes along that’s so tone-deaf, so wildly disconnected from both fact and principle, that it all but begs to be called out.
Enter Texas Democratic congressional candidate Isaiah Martin, who has pledged to introduce sweeping gun control legislation — in the name of Charlie Kirk, a man whose very public life and legacy were defined by his defense of the Second Amendment.
Martin’s proposal, if elected, would create yet another federal red flag law and “mandate” background checks for firearm purchases. The irony is hard to miss. Background checks have already been required by federal law since 1993 under the Brady Act.
And red flag laws? They’ve been in place in multiple states for years, including Minnesota — where Rep. Melissa Hortman was recently murdered despite both the suspect’s legal access to firearms and the existence of a state-level red flag statute. In short, neither measure would have prevented her death.
I WILL BE INTRODUCING THE MELISSA HORTMAN/CHARLIE KIRK GUN
SAFETY ACT TO MANDATE FEDERAL BACKGROUND CHECKS TO PURCHASE A FIREARM! WE ALSO NEED RED FLAG LAWS, MORE PENALTIES FOR POLITICAL VIOLENCE, AND MORE FUNDING FOR MENTAL HEALTH PROGRAMS! TOO MANY LIVES HAVE BEEN LOST!— Isaiah Martin (@isaiahrmartin) September 12, 2025
Gun Owners of America wasted no time in blasting Martin’s plan: “This is an insult to Charlie’s legacy as a 2A activist.” And they’re right. To invoke Kirk’s name — a man who unapologetically argued that the Second Amendment was worth defending even at societal cost — as a banner for gun restrictions is more than political opportunism. It is an attempt to rewrite a man’s life mission in service of policies he opposed until his final breath.
Martin even plans to name his proposal the “Melissa Hortman/Charlie Kirk Gun Safety Act.” But Hortman’s murder, according to the ATF, was committed by a man who was legally allowed to purchase a firearm. No background check loophole. No easy legislative fix. And Minnesota’s red flag law, already on the books, clearly did not intervene.
This is the great sleight of hand in modern gun control politics: every tragedy becomes a platform for policies that have already failed elsewhere, dressed up as “new” solutions. The facts don’t matter. The Constitution doesn’t matter. What matters is the headline, the emotional surge, the illusion of action.
But for Martin, the choice to use Charlie Kirk’s name takes the cynical calculus to a new low. It doesn’t honor Kirk. It erases him. It hijacks his identity to promote the very policies he warned against, the very restrictions he spent his career fighting to resist.
