Earlier this week, Zohran Mamdani stunned the American political scene by winning the Democratic primary for New York mayor.
There isn't much to recount from Mamdani's résumé. Born in Uganda in 1991, he's the son of a Columbia University professor and acclaimed filmmaker Mira Nair. After an unsuccessful stint as a rapper, he dove headfirst into radical left-wing politics and gained notoriety as an outspoken anti-Israel activist during college. Five years ago, he was elected to the New York State Assembly, where he made little impression. But since announcing his mayoral candidacy, his star has been rising fast.
Why? Certainly not due to experience, especially considering his main opponent, Andrew Cuomo, is a seasoned politician and former New York governor with deep roots in the Democratic Party. Nor is it because of his platform: Mamdani advocates for full-fledged communism, including state-run stores distributing free food based on need, and a total rent freeze for New Yorkers, regardless of market dynamics.
Mamdani ran a shrewd campaign, securing just over 400,000 votes. But will that be enough come the general election in November? That's a more complex question. With 4.7 million registered voters in New York City, Mamdani's primary win reflects only about 9.1% of the electorate. Cuomo, the main rival he defeated, had been politically weakened by a slew of scandals, including numerous sexual harassment allegations and a widely criticized handling of the COVID-19 crisis, and didn't put much effort into campaigning. While Mamdani was canvassing neighborhoods flanked by influencers and photographers, Cuomo acted as if victory was a given, spending more time attacking former President Donald Trump than outlining a vision for New Yorkers.
Current Mayor Eric Adams, meanwhile, may find some hope. After losing support from his party, Adams is now running as an independent. His recent record is notable, homicides in the city dropped by 34% in the first quarter of the year. And the data shows that Mamdani's base isn't primarily Black or Hispanic voters, but rather affluent, highly educated young white people, the children of privilege who dabble in radical politics with little concern for real-world consequences. Trump himself demonstrated last November that many New Yorkers are tired of progressive extremism, gaining notable support among Hispanics for his hardline stance on illegal immigration. It's likely that by November, more residents will awaken and head to the polls. In 2021, only 23% of eligible voters cast ballots, not necessarily a favorable sign for Mamdani.
Furthermore, due to a variety of historical and political factors, New York City relies heavily on the state government, meaning the mayor has limited power without the governor's backing. That dynamic could soon shift: current Governor Kathy Hochul is a deeply unpopular figure who took office after Cuomo's disgraceful resignation. The leading Republican challenger is likely Congresswoman Elise Stefanik, who gained national attention for launching a probe into antisemitism at elite US universities, a campaign that led to several university presidents stepping down. If Stefanik wins, plausible in a state with a substantial conservative base, any future mayor would be forced to curb radical policies.
Politics of hate
Mamdani's rise is concerning, but it's not cause for panic. Still, one must ask: what explains his meteoric political ascent? The answer is as troubling as it is simple, hatred of Israel.
Mamdani's political debut came via Students for Justice in Palestine, a radical group with ties to the terrorist organization Hamas, known for orchestrating violent campus protests across the US. His popularity surged when he refused to apologize for using the slogan "Globalize the Intifada." Repeatedly asked whether he considered calls for an intifada against Jews, Israelis, and their supporters to be incitement to violence, Mamdani replied that it was merely a legitimate expression of support for Palestinian rights. In today's American political climate, such a position is a surefire way to rally the activist base. And not only on the left: in recent weeks, the far-right has also coalesced around virulent antisemitism. What began as tepid criticism of potential US involvement in an Israeli strike on Iran has morphed into a frenzy of open Jew-hatred.
To understand the moment, it's worth looking back at late 19th-century France. At the time, the republic wasn't merely split along political lines, but between entirely different worldviews. Most French citizens supported secular liberalism; the fringes leaned either toward communism or ultranationalist Catholicism. Seeking a scapegoat, right-wing agitators falsely accused Jewish officer Alfred Dreyfus, and by extension all Jews, of treason. The left joined in, and France spent nearly a decade in turmoil, not only fighting for Dreyfus's exoneration but also for the soul of the republic. In the end, the moderates triumphed, and the hatemongers ended in disgrace.
A peculiar faith
What unites Americans more than anything is a shared belief in their nation's exceptionalism, the idea that the US has a divinely inspired mission to shape the course of human history. Polls consistently show that at least 73% of Americans believe in "American exceptionalism," a concept famously captured by President Abraham Lincoln, who called Americans "the almost chosen people." If Jews are the chosen people, Americans see themselves as not far behind, destined to bring peace and prosperity to the world.
To both the far left and far right, this belief is anathema. Former President Barack Obama exemplified this view, asserting that all countries are equal and that the US should not assert dominance. That worldview led him to elevate Iran's status in the Middle East, foreign policy, to Obama, meant turning enemies into allies, even at the cost of abandoning unilateral strength.
Figures like Tucker Carlson and Mamdani are ideological heirs to Obama. Regardless of their partisan labels, they share a deep conviction that America must shed its theological delusions of grandeur. That's why Carlson produced glowing reports about Russia, extolling the Moscow subway while ignoring political repression and the brutal war in Ukraine. The goal was clear: convince Americans they are not special.
But Americans aren't buying it. Exceptionalism remains central to the national ethos. The Hebrew term for the country, "Artzot HaBrit" or "the United States", echoes the biblical covenant. If your worldview runs counter to this deep-seated belief, the fallback strategy, as in Dreyfus-era France, is to blame the Jews. But just like then, it's a doomed tactic. Axios's White House correspondent recently shared polling data showing that efforts to portray Trump as beholden to Jewish interests have failed. Among those who voted for him in 2024, 79% support sending arms to Israel, 72% back US intervention in a war against Iran to aid Israel, and 80% believe Iran is hostile to US interests.
In other words, if the recent surge in antisemitism on the right has accomplished anything, it's to galvanize a solid pro-Israel majority, one that sees US power not as original sin, but as a force for good.
That likely holds true on the left as well. By November, we may see what we didn't this past week in New York: sensible voters choosing a sensible candidate. One can only hope that Mamdani's political career ends as quickly and ignominiously as his failed rap venture. A mayor hostile to Israel would indeed be a serious issue in a city with one of the world's largest Jewish populations. But perhaps the visible, repellent nature of today's antisemitism is a sign that its champions are on the defensive.
