Mamdani wants the sacred 9/11 spotlight, but after alienating New York’s cops, families, and first responders, he may discover some stages come with consequences.
Old Honest Abe had it right when he laid down the timeless rule about fooling the public. But if Lincoln had spent any time in New York, he probably would have added one crucial geographic footnote: you especially cannot fool New Yorkers.
I know this city. I know its people. And I know the difference between genuine leadership and political theater. New Yorkers have a built-in, finely tuned, razor-sharp detector for bullshit, and right now, that alarm is screaming louder than an ambulance racing up Seventh Avenue.
If there is one political lightweight who has earned every decibel of the crowd fury coming his way for trying to play this city for fools, it is Mayor Zohran Mamdani.
New Yorkers asked for a mayor who could keep the lights on, keep the streets safe, and actually run the damn city. Instead, City Hall delivered what looks increasingly like a radical social-media production with a mayor attached to it.
And now, as New York approaches the solemn 25th anniversary of September 11, Mamdani apparently believes he deserves a prominent place at the podium to memorialize the thousands of innocent people murdered that day.
I have to ask: Seriously?
Talk about political delusion.
He has already endured two very public humiliations at events where his presence was about as welcome as another subway fare increase. So the question now being whispered all over this city is pretty simple:
Is he really foolish enough to go for a third strike at next month’s 9/11 ceremonies?
Look at what just happened.
Last week, Mamdani was booed off the stage at a National Night Out event on Staten Island. These events are supposed to be community celebrations, opportunities for law enforcement, first responders, and residents to build relationships with one another.
Then Mamdani walked onto that stage wearing the polished political smile we have all seen before.
And approximately 3,500 people answered him with something far less polished.
They booed.
And they kept booing.
The reaction was so intense that Mamdani reportedly cut his remarks down to roughly sixty seconds before getting the hell out of there.
What did he expect?
This was a pro-police crowd. And Mamdani has spent months antagonizing the NYPD and making statements that have infuriated many officers and their supporters. You cannot spend your political career throwing gasoline onto a relationship and then act shocked when the room smells like smoke.
And that embarrassment came right after another dose of political reality in Queens, at the funeral for Sergeant Angel Rampersad, who was killed in an Iranian missile and drone strike.
Mamdani arrived apparently expecting to speak.
The family said no.
Not one word.
Once again, he encountered something every politician eventually learns: the podium does not belong to you simply because you won an election.
A grieving family gets to decide who speaks at its own funeral.
That should not even be controversial.
And yet the larger political problem for Mamdani is impossible to ignore. His positions on foreign regimes, his history of controversial statements, and his approach to issues involving Israel, Iran, and American power have created enormous distrust among people who do not share his worldview.
So when he walks into a room mourning someone whose life was taken in an Iranian attack, he should understand that people are going to judge him not by whatever carefully polished remarks his communications team prepared, but by the political record he has spent years creating.
That is the brutal reality of politics.
And the fact that this happened in Queens, in a diverse community where Mamdani had performed well electorally, ought to send an even bigger warning signal.
Because the backlash he is facing is no longer confined to conservative critics or people who never supported him.
The honeymoon is over.
What Mamdani is discovering is that winning an election is one thing. Governing a city this complicated is something entirely different.
He benefited from a primary opponent in Andrew Cuomo who had become politically damaged beyond repair and then faced Curtis Sliwa in the general election. That is a pretty remarkable political runway for someone with such a narrow ideological base.
But governing New York City means dealing with millions of people who do not live on social media.
They are parents trying to get their children safely home.
They are cops walking into dangerous neighborhoods.
They are small-business owners trying to keep their doors open.
They are commuters squeezing onto filthy subway platforms.
They are immigrants, union workers, professionals, seniors, students and families who don’t give a damn about the latest online political fashion.
They simply want their city to work.
And that is where the social-media persona eventually meets reality.
You can curate an image online. You can manufacture viral moments. You can surround yourself with people who applaud everything you say.
But eventually, you have to walk into a room filled with people who disagree with you.
That is where leadership gets tested.
And now comes the ultimate test: September 11.
There is a massive political Catch-22 here.
A New York City mayor cannot casually disappear from the city’s most sacred civic commemoration, particularly on the 25th anniversary of the attacks.
But a mayor whose relationship with first responders and whose political history has generated enormous controversy also cannot pretend that everyone is going to welcome him with open arms.
More than 60,000 people have reportedly signed a petition demanding that he stay away.
Whether you agree with that demand or not, the political message behind it is impossible to miss.
And perhaps spending time with online personalities who have made grotesque statements about America and September 11 was not exactly the wisest political decision imaginable.
Fortunately, there is an important tradition at Ground Zero: politicians do not turn the ceremony into a campaign event.
The families come first.
The victims come first.
The firefighters, police officers, EMTs, office workers, passengers, rescuers and everyone else whose lives were stolen that morning come first.
Not the mayor.
Not the political party.
Not the campaign.
Not the social-media machine.
The victims.
If City Hall is smart, it will remember that.
Because September 11 is not a stage for political rehabilitation. It is not an opportunity to repair a damaged public image. It is not a backdrop for another carefully choreographed photograph.
It is a day of mourning.
And if Mamdani has learned anything from the boos on Staten Island and the rejection in Queens, it should be this:
New Yorkers are watching.
They are not stupid.
They are not impressed by political theater.
And they certainly are not going to forget what they believe a politician stood for simply because he suddenly wants to stand behind a podium on September 11.
In New York, you can fool some of the people some of the time.
But try fooling all of us?
Good luck with that.