The previous Wednesday, Zohran Mamdani, a candidate for the position of mayor in New York City, had a press conference in Harlem during which he relayed that Maya Wiley, a recognized civil rights advocate, had given him her endorsement. As the event came to a close, a common occurrence confronted Mamdani: a participant demanded assurance of his unequivocal opposition to antisemitism. The accusation of antisemitism deeply saddened Mamdani, a sentiment he couldn’t hide as his voice wavered during his response. The flood of anti-Muslim bigotry and threats he had been subject to provided further grounds for his emotional response.
An anonymous individual sent a chilling proclamation, ‘The only good Muslim is a dead Muslim,’ reflecting the degree of hatred he had been exposed to. As a result, Mamdani found it necessary to engage security services. Alongside this, New York citizens found fliers containing manipulated images of Mamdani in their mail, his beard artificially enhanced to appear thicker and longer.
These glossy mailers, paid for by billionaires backing former governor Andrew Cuomo’s candidacy, warned that ‘Mamdani’s extreme ideas would jeopardize New York’s safety.’ The underlying message seemed to insinuate that Mamdani spirals a threat to the city and its Jewish population due to his Muslim faith.
Upon discussing the incident with Mamdani after the press conference, it dawned on me that his emotional responses didn’t just stem from the pain of anti-Muslim hatred, but from the ongoing struggle to clear himself of false antisemitism allegations. It is a prevailing pain that can only be fully understood by those who’ve been wrongfully accused. The task of proving one’s innocence, especially from a false negative assertion, is daunting and emotionally draining.
This is not Mamdani’s first wrestling match with antisemitism accusations. His support for Palestinian rights has been a subject for these accusations in the past. However, this time around, the critics’ attention honed in on two particular incidents from the current mayoral campaign.
During the Democratic debate, candidates were asked which foreign country they would visit first if they emerged victorious in the mayoral race. Cuomo highlighted Israel as his choice, whereas Mamdani chose a different approach, declaring his intention to remain in the city after his election. He further explained, ‘As mayor, I will be advocating for Jewish New Yorkers and will be interacting with them in their day-to-day environments, be it synagogues, homes, or subway platforms.’
The moderator then pushed Mamdani to clarify his stance on the existence of Israel as a Jewish state. Mamdani responded with the assertion that he believes ‘Israel has a right to exist as a state with equal rights.’ This provoked Cuomo to highlight Mamdani’s declaration of not visiting Israel—a statement perceived to be weighted with political intentions.
For any objective observer, Mamdani’s responses could be viewed as politically correct. For a mayor, the city and its population should come first, and promoting equal rights is a universal norm. But his responses provoked renewed accusations of antisemitism.
In an encounter on a podcast the following week, Mamdani was invited to share his thoughts on the slogan ‘Globalize the intifada.’ Despite variances in interpretation, Mamdani recognized antisemitism as a pervasive problem, stating, ‘Antisemitism is a genuine issue that we face in our city.’
Mamdani asserted that the issue was evident ‘in the stats and in numerous conversations with Jewish New Yorkers across the city.’ He narrated accounts of Jewish individuals who felt fear in their communities and described drastic changes to their daily routines due to antisemitic threats.
Addressing his strategy to combat antisemitism, Mamdani proposed not regulating speech, but rather a substantial increase in funding geared towards anti-hate-crime programs—a 800 percent surge. His response demonstrated a respect for the core American principle of free speech. It also showcased his aptitude for empathizing with the underlying sentiments of the issue.
This approach is particularly important given the surge in antisemitic incidents witnessed in the U.S. in recent years. These range from swastika graffiti and marches bearing the chant ‘Jews will not replace us’ to violent attacks on synagogues.
In the wake of these attacks, it is increasingly challenging to discern between actual instances of antisemitism and allegations of the same. Some violent acts, while appearing antisemitic and effectively causing fear among Jews, could, in fact, bear different motivations.
These acts, without a doubt, fall under the category of terror. While there isn’t a universally accepted definition of terrorism, scholars concur on some fundamentals; it comprises politically-motivated violence against noncombatants aimed at instilling fear.
In conclusion, Mamdani’s case brings to light the complexities of the political landscape and the difficulty of defending one’s self against false accusations, especially when entwined with ethnicity and religion. His ongoing struggle is an illustration of the broader issue of identity politics present across the United States.