The election of Zohran Mamdani as New York mayor has inflated the illusion that radical change is possible without changing the mechanics of power.
There is a seduction in the story of Zohran Mamdani. The insurgent from Queens. The son of an African exile and South Asian cinema royalty. A hunger striker for taxi drivers. A face of the new New York – brown, Muslim, global, young, fluent in solidarity, fluent in TikTok, fluent in that tender performance of left hope that keeps American liberalism feeling clever rather than culpable.
He entered the arena with the narrative scaffolding already built: “once-in-a-generation candidate”, as Mehdi Hasan called him. A democratic socialist for the city that invented finance capital. A rent-freeze prophet in the kingdom of landlords. A bus-fare abolitionist in a city where the train is both lifeline and class sorting mechanism. A soft-spoken radical for a metropolis that still believes moderation is modernity.
It should have been beautiful.
It felt beautiful.
And then – the economy of optics tightened its grip.
Because Mamdani’s candidacy is not only a test of charisma, or policy imagination, or diasporic pride. It is a test of whether one can force history to bend inside an institution that exists precisely to prevent bending. It is a test of whether insurgency can survive the velvet noose of the Democratic Party. It is a lesson in how radical language becomes managerial grammar the moment power peers back and says, “Enter, but only if you behave”.
This is not about Zohran Mamdani as a person. It is about the structure that swallowed him.
It is the story of: the contradiction of calling yourself a socialist inside the Democratic Party; the Bernie/AOC arc – from insurgency to apology tour; the impossibility of “redeeming” a party built to absorb dissent, not transform; the chronic mismatch between left promise and municipal bureaucracy; the symbolic betrayal on Palestine – first arrest Netanyahu, then assure Zionists you never meant it; and the most painful truth: the independent run that could have cracked open New York’s political horizon, but was traded for primary optics and party permission.
This is not betrayal in the cheap internet sense. This is betrayal in the historical sense. The kind that defines the limits of a political generation.
I. Democratic socialism with a party chaperone
Democratic socialism, in theory, is a project of redistribution, decommodification, and class power. In practice, in America, it too often becomes a branding exercise inside a party built by and for real estate capital, police unions, and hedge fund donors. Mamdani arrives as the face of the “we can govern and transform” wing of DSA. He runs – necessarily – as a Democrat. Because to do otherwise, we are told, is to lose.
But here lies the first contradiction: How do you overthrow a machine you are asking permission to operate? Every left candidate in NYC inherits the city’s power architecture: unions that are progressive until money is on the table; real estate interests that write housing law and zoning codes in the shadows; a media class that loves insurgents until they might actually redistribute power; a liberal donor ecosystem allergic to discomfort; a police state masquerading as municipal necessity, and voters moralised into confusing party loyalty with democracy.
Mamdani enters with a platform – rent freeze, fare-free buses, city-run groceries, union protection, $30 minimum wage, universal childcare – that reads like a syllabus for the city we deserve.
But running inside the party means inheriting: budget ceilings drawn by Albany [the New York state capital] moderates, policing powers insulated by state statute and federal funding, real estate lobbyists who outlive every mayor, media power brokers waiting to punish deviation and the banal violence of committee processes and legislative attrition.
The contradiction is not personal. It is architectural. You cannot promise rupture while pledging fealty to the institution you must rupture.
II. The Bernie-AOC trap: from insurgents to interpreters of power
We have seen this film before.
Bernie Sanders – the golden mouth of class politics – who ultimately endorsed the party’s neoliberal heir and told his movement to “be reasonable.”
AOC – once the bartender slayer of Crowley – now forced into quiet triangulation, forced to disclaim, soften, apologise for the very critique that birthed her.
There is a physics to American progressive collapse:
- Mobilise the young
- Terrify the centrists
- Enter negotiations
- Learn the language of “governing responsibility”
- Absorb the logic of incrementalism
- Become the new face of “realistic reform”
The tragedy is that Mamdani genuinely believed – and we believed – that municipal office could be the exception. Cities as laboratories. Cities as socialist edges. Cities as engines of redistribution rather than austerity. But American urban liberalism is a clever trap. It offers radicals administrative portfolios instead of power. In the US, you do not radicalise the state by entering. You are house-trained by the state the moment you do.
III. The lie of “redeeming” the Democratic Party
The Democratic Party is not a contested battleground. It is a containment architecture. It tolerates leftism the way a museum tolerates dissident art: displayed, framed, contextualised, neutralised.
Sanders proved it. AOC confirms it. Mamdani illustrates it.
The party’s genius is not in defeating the left. It is in inviting the left to speak – but never to govern. Progressives are allowed to be conscience, not consequence. We keep saying “this time is different”. But history keeps saying: the machine always wins by smiling.
IV. Promises meet the municipal abyss
If one was to govern New York City radically, one must control: capital flows, land use policy, police budgets, public banks or equivalents, labour councils, procurement systems, bond markets, zoning laws and the media narrative.
A mayor controls… some appointments, some contracts, and a press podium. The state legislature controls rent law. The MTA controls transit. Albany controls taxation. Preemption law controls police oversight. And Wall Street controls the fear index of municipal management.
Mamdani can win the office. He cannot win the architecture. And architecture eats ideology for breakfast.
V. Palestine, Netanyahu, and the softening of a radical tongue
There is a reason the Palestinian question always breaks American left politicians: it is where solidarity meets the teeth of empire. Mamdani said the taboo thing: arrest Netanyahu under ICC warrant. That was his high-water mark – not because it was legally feasible, but because it was morally clarifying.
Then came: the New York Times charm rebrand, the Park Slope synagogue visits, the Hasidic community lunch photo-ops, the “I will have Zionists in my administration” reassurance, the shift from “anti-Zionist” to “not anti-Zionist, just pro-Palestinian”.
The left howled. The right smirked. The centre applauded his maturity.
Optics triumphed over principle – as they always do when the party becomes home.
This is not about him alone. It is about the structure that makes Palestine the price of Democratic entry.
VI. The rupture that was possible – and the decision to become legible instead
This is the wound: Zohran Mamdani could have run independent. Not as fantasy. Not as symbolism. As plausible realignment.
New York is the only city in America where a socialist independent – with youth, unions, diaspora power, and media attention – could have shattered the myth of the two-party corral. A once-in-a-generation candidate does not ask the machine for permission. He builds a third pole and forces history to respond.
Had Mamdani run independent, three things would have happened:
- He would have broken the Democratic monopoly on dissent. Not left vs right – but left vs liberal managerialism.
- He would have forced a new political grammar in the city. Realignment is not about victory. It is about introducing another viable subject position into civic imagination.
- He would have inoculated the left from institutional humiliation. Better to lose as rupture than win as compromise. Instead, New Yorkers get the respectable primary. The polite coronation. The photo-ops. The “not anti-Zionist” assurances. The moral choreography of “responsible radicalism”. The movement traded confrontation for adjacency. And adjacency is the graveyard of insurgency.
A socialist does not enter the machine to behave. A socialist enters to terrify. If you cannot terrify power, you become its narrative ornament.
VII. This is not about Mamdani – it is about us
We must resist the liberal instinct to individualise critique. Mamdani is not villain or coward. He is a case study in structural gravity. He walked into a machine believing he could drive it. The machine taught him to adjust his stride. But if the left continues to celebrate proximity to institutions instead of breaking them, we will consign ourselves to a century of anti-poverty vibes and redistribution aesthetics.
We will become moral consultants to power instead of successors to it.
The lesson is clear: do not mistake entry for transformation. Do not mistake visibility for victory. Do not mistake representation for redistribution. A once-in-a-generation candidate is not the one who wins politely. It is the one who risks legitimacy to redraw the map.
VIII. The task ahead
For our generation – the one tired of managerial benevolence, tired of moral choreography, tired of watching Palestine be the price of respectability – the Mamdani moment is not disappointment.
It is instruction. The Democratic Party does not liberate; it launders. Municipal socialism cannot survive bureaucratic capture without parallel power. Palestine is the litmus, always. Optics are the enemy of structural clarity. “Electability” is obedience, not strategy. And the future will not be built by those who wait for permission.
New York did not need a progressive mayor. It needed a new political possibility. And possibility is not born in primaries. It is born in rupture. Mamdani gave us a glimpse. We must build the thing he could not risk. History rewards those who refuse the velvet noose.
Not those who smile as they pass beneath it.
Ali Ridha Khan is a MA student in Political Studies and was a fellow at the Centre for Humanities Research, UWC. He writes, thinks about the politics of emotion, aesthetics and happiness.
Joshua Reed is a freelance writer, director, and photographer based in New York City. He holds an MFA in Film and Television Production from NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts.
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