Zohran Mamdani: Red-Blue Republic Of New York

In 2020, Mahmood Mamdani, professor of international affairs and anthropology at Columbia University, published a book titled Neither Settler Nor Native: The Making and Unmaking of Permanent Minorities. In it, he challenged the legitimacy of ethnic nationalism and the notion of the “permanent minority”, arguing that these are not natural states but politically manufactured categories—products of political violence, exclusion and colonialism.

He called for a radical rethinking of political belonging—one that moves toward a more inclusive, civic-based citizenship. He dedicated the book to his son, Zohran, writing: “You teach us how to engage the world in difficult times. May you inspire many and blaze a trail.” That trail has come sharply into focus now. In June 2025, Zohran Mamdani made history as the first South Asian Muslim immigrant to become the Democratic nominee for Mayor of New York City. Despite trailing in polls for much of the race, Mamdani surged ahead in the final stretch. His victory was not only a political upset—it was also the realisation of his father’s theoretical vision, now brought to life in practice. Although Mamdani has not turned to his parents for political advice, it has nonetheless shaped his upbringing as well as his campaign.

Thirty-three-year-old Mamdani built a grassroots movement that challenged entrenched power, centred the needs of the historically excluded, and articulated a vision of belonging grounded not in identity politics but in solidarity. His signature proposals—fast, fare-free city buses, a rent freeze for rent-stabilised units, and no-cost childcare—spoke directly to the lived realities of working-class New Yorkers.

Mamdani’s win marks a watershed moment for the Democratic Socialists of America and the broader progressive movement. It echoes Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s 2018 upset, signalling a growing wave of left-wing grassroots organising and bold policy proposals powered by small-dollar donations and viral social media campaigns. His campaign showed that authenticity and direct voter engagement can outmaneuver establishment money. His win over a seasoned politician like Andrew Cuomo—who is backed by billionaire-funded super PACs—underscores the fragility of centrist dominance within the Democratic Party. It reveals the limits of cash and legacy endorsements when faced with genuine, community-rooted momentum.

Mamdani entered the race as a clear underdog—a “no-name,” in his own words—dismissed mainly by mainstream media and shunned by the political elites. The New York Times went so far as to urge readers not to rank Mamdani in the preferential voting system. Without institutional backing, he was framed as a long shot. His legislative track record didn’t help: just three of the 20 bills he had introduced as an Assemblyman became law. His fare-free bus pilot wasn’t renewed. His bill, known as “Not on Our Dime! Ending New York Funding of Israeli Settler Violence Act”, aimed to prohibit New York non-profits from providing financial support for Israeli settlement activity, was swiftly quashed in a public rebuke from Assembly leadership.

However, what the media overlooked was the quiet force of his campaign: a disciplined, volunteer-driven operation that tapped into the frustrations of working-class voters, tenants, immigrants and young progressives. While pundits focused on establishment contenders, Mamdani was building a multi-racial, cross-borough coalition from the ground up—one the media failed to recognise until it was too late. His win is not just a rebuke of the political establishment; it’s a warning against the conventional wisdom that continues to underestimate insurgent, people-powered campaigns.

Yet, Mamdani’s campaign was not only a political battle—it became a lightning rod for Islamophobia, xenophobia and right-wing fear-mongering. His unapologetic support for Palestinian rights sparked relentless attacks. He received death threats. Far-right provocateur Laura Loomer claimed that his election would lead to “another 9/11”. City Council member Vickie Paladino labelled him a “known jihadist terrorist” and called for his deportation—despite his US citizenship. Trump, Stephen Miller, Marjorie Taylor Greene, and others joined the pile-on, labelling Mamdani a “100% communist lunatic,” posting AI-generated images depicting the Statue of Liberty in a burqa, and painting New York City as a lost, foreign place. The campaign was forced to increase Mamdani’s security detail.

These attacks weren’t just personal—they were political. Mamdani was repeatedly grilled on Israel-Palestine. When asked which country he would visit first if elected, he responded simply: “I’ll remain in New York.” He drew sharp criticism among conservative Hindu voters for labelling Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi a “war criminal” and comparing him to Benjamin Netanyahu. As Jacobin magazine noted, Mamdani’s potential general election win would not only make him New York City’s first Muslim mayor—it would also mark a historic reversal in a city where, just 15 years ago, Muslims were subjected to intense surveillance, widespread suspicion and institutionalised discrimination.

Mamdani’s campaign also marked a historic turning point for Palestinian solidarity in American politics. His victory in the most Jewish city in America—despite a relentless smear campaign by pro-Israel groups—offers a decisive rebuke to the false conflation of criticism of Israel with antisemitism. His alignment with progressive Jewish City Comptroller Brad Lander modelled a new kind of coalition politics—one grounded not in identity silos but in shared ethical commitments. Their alliance—dubbed by some a “progressive bromance”—stood as a counter-narrative to the sectarianism fuelling much of the current political discourse.

Mamdani’s victory has reverberated far beyond New York City—not just across the US, but around the world. Many are celebrating it as a win for the people. According to The New York Times, Mamdani won Manhattan, Brooklyn and Queens. There was a high turnout in gentrifying neighbourhoods, along with strong backing from the Asian and the Hispanic communities. He also secured large margins in the affluent, brownstone-lined streets of Brooklyn, the diverse blocks of Upper Manhattan, and South Asian enclaves in Queens. However, he faced challenges in winning over wealthy older voters on Manhattan’s Upper West and East Sides, which include a sizeable Jewish electorate. He also stumbled with Black voters, who overwhelmingly supported disgraced former New York Governor Andrew Cuomo for his decades-long alliance with Black churches, which have historically served not just as spiritual centres but also as political hubs within Black communities. While Mamdani’s policies, such as fare-free transit and rent freezes addressed urgent material needs, his outsider status and lack of embeddedness in these religious networks limited his reach.

Despite these headwinds, Mamdani’s campaign redefined what it means to run on identity in American politics. He didn’t tokenise his background—he grounded his politics in it. His campaign ads were multilingual—Spanish, Urdu/Hindi and Bangla —and his rallies were intergenerational. He connected with communities through younger activists and utilised social media effectively as a tool for dialogue rather than spectacle. He asked questions, listened and centred on issues that impact ordinary New Yorkers. While his opponents invoked fear of immigrants, homelessness and crime, Mamdani spoke of care, solidarity and a vision for a city that could care for all its residents. His politics reignited belief among people who had long felt ignored, let down, or written off by traditional politicians.

At a recent screening of Monsoon Wedding, Mamdani’s mother, filmmaker Mira Nair, told me that she once offered her son the lead role in A Suitable Boy, based on Vikram Seth’s epic novel, which she adapted into a Netflix series. “He rejected it,” she recalled. Still, in a way, Nair may have given NYC its own suitable boy—just not on screen, but at the heart of its politics.

However, even with his primary win, Mamdani’s road ahead is uncertain. Past patterns have shown that winning the Democratic party’s primary typically paves the way to victory in the general election—with extended tenures of Rudy Giuliani and Michael Bloomberg being exceptions. This year, however, the race is far from settled, with Mamdani facing a crowded field that includes Republican Curtis Sliwa and at least three independents, among them Cuomo and incumbent Mayor Eric Adams. Additionally, Mamdani’s progressive policies may face resistance from business leaders and centrist Democrats concerned about their economic implications. The general election in November will be a test not just of his platform but of the broader appetite for structural change.

Mamdani’s political arc resonates with the work of Abdulrazak Gurnah, the 2021 Nobel Prize-winning Tanzanian-born British novelist and academic, whose work frequently explores the concept of the “stranger” to capture the emotional and existential dimensions of displacement, exile, and migration—especially within colonial and postcolonial contexts. For Gurnah, the “stranger” is not merely a legal or geographic outsider but a figure embodying alienation, loss, and otherness—even within one’s own country or family. Mamdani’s campaign echoed this idea. He stood as a political stranger—Muslim, socialist, immigrant, brown—within a system that often marginalises all four. His candidacy challenged a political culture that excludes the very communities it claims to represent. His platform was more than a list of policies; it was a demand for recognition—a call to transform the “stranger” into a central subject of the political story—a future where the “stranger” is no longer a category of exclusion but instead recognised as an essential asset to shaping its future.

(Views expressed are personal)

Souzeina Mushtaq is assistant Professor of Journalism at the University of Wisconsin-River Falls