At AmericaFest, the Right Faces a Crisis of Identity

The divides that surfaced this past weekend weren’t subtle. The conference’s Thursday night lineup, Ben Shapiro, Michael Knowles, Tucker Carlson, was handpicked by Kirk before his death, and it ignited open warfare among the right’s biggest names. Shapiro, visibly disgusted by Carlson’s decision to host white nationalist Nick Fuentes, condemned both Fuentes and those legitimizing him. Carlson retaliated with trademark mockery. Knowles tried to smooth it over from the stage but admitted privately, “the factions have risen up again.”

Even Candace Owens, who once helped put Turning Point on the map, now circulates conspiracy theories about Kirk’s death and casts suspicion on those closest to him. Her popularity is no small issue. Owens now commands one of the most listened-to political shows in America. Her influence outside the walls of Turning Point may be more potent than anything the organization can currently harness.

That tension, between media celebrity and movement fidelity, defined this year’s AmericaFest. Behind the flashy lights, red-white-and-blue gear, and bizarre New Right boutique items like monarchist literature and “miracle molecule” teas, lay a question few attendees could answer with confidence: What exactly is Turning Point USA now?

To Erika Kirk’s credit, she has publicly called for the conspiracy theories to stop and met privately with Owens in an attempt to quell the gossip. But in a movement fueled by social media and personality-driven content, leadership by quiet example may no longer be enough.

There is still a powerful sense of shared cause among the rank-and-file. Attendees voiced support for border security, Christian cultural values, and opposition to the progressive establishment. The applause lines were familiar: anti-DEI, pro-life, pro-America. But underneath that shared platform is a growing rift between those who see Turning Point as a movement of conviction and those who view it as a vehicle for personal branding.

Nicki Minaj’s surprise appearance alongside Erika Kirk underscored that cultural crossover is still part of the strategy. But it also signaled something else: the movement’s continued reliance on spectacle to compensate for its lack of internal coherence.

Charlie Kirk once held the coalition together, however imperfectly. With his death, Turning Point has become a reflection of the wider conservative moment: diverse, contentious, and deeply uncertain about its future. As one young attendee put it, “I thought we were on the same team.” That assumption, like so many others, is now up for debate.

As the lights dimmed on Sunday and thousands filtered past a timeline marking Kirk’s life and death, the questions only grew louder. Legacy can inspire, but it cannot lead. That burden now rests on others, some untested, some uninterested in unity, and the road ahead looks anything but smooth.