Opinion: Mamdani’s campaign was built on listening

When I heard that Assembly Member Zohran Mamdani wanted to run for mayor, I thought it was a pretty insane idea, mostly because I couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to spend all that time and effort running a race they knew they were going to lose. At best, it might bring other candidates to the left, something people seemed afraid to do after the presidential election.

It was after that election that Zohran did something most politicians fail to do: diagnose people’s problems by actually talking to them and hearing what they had to say. He let the treatment be his platform. He went to neighborhoods in the Bronx and Queens that had swung to Trump and asked residents why they voted for him — or why they stayed home. He also asked what their biggest concerns were. The takeaway was that affordability was a big problem (the genocide in Gaza was also brought up). Out of those conversations came three main platform planks: fast and free buses, universal childcare, and a rent freeze for rent-stabilized units.

Pretty soon, other people in my own neighborhood started finding out about Zohran. He’d been dropping by to give speeches and launch canvasses in Sunset Park. His name started fluttering off the tongues of excited parents at the playground, at school pickup, at soccer practice. “Did you hear that Zohran guy? He sounds great!”

Hope, like a butterfly, felt too fragile to hold on to too tightly and just as fleeting. I didn’t try to chase it. Zohran running for mayor in the Democratic primary would be like Bernie Sanders running in a presidential one — likely to inspire a lot of people to work their asses off and spend their spare time phone banking and canvassing, only to have their hopes crushed. I’ve been one of those people, and it’s exhausting.

Still looming was whether a disgraced former governor would enter the race, and early this year we got our answer. Yes, he would subject us again to a suburbanite’s wrong diagnosis of a city gone to hell while missing the real affordability and quality-of-life issues that worsened during his governorship. A Cuomo mayoralty would likely bring developer giveaways and budget cuts in the name of “fiscal responsibility,” along with a continuation of the corruption that marred Eric Adams, albeit more subtle, and a return of the bullying and intimidation that marked his time as governor.

Cuomo announced his run shortly before my kid’s birthday party at Max Funland. Parents who’d allowed themselves a glimmer of hope around Zohran’s run huddled among the arcade games as we watched our kids frolic in the ball pit. We were talking about public schools and funding and then politics. One dad asked if we were ready for the inevitability that Cuomo would be the next mayor. A collective gallows laugh followed.

And while the gallows humor remained, something remarkable happened. Zohran went everywhere and spoke to everyone. Beyond his viral online videos — running the New York City Marathon, plunging into the freezing waters of Coney Island, interviewing halal cart vendors — he went on a podcast hosted by retired NYPD officers, called into Brian Lehrer, attended comedy fundraisers in Manhattan, visited a Jewish community center in Midwood, and talked to Knicks fans outside Madison Square Garden. Eventually he got invited to appear on cable news.

In doing this, Zohran set an example: go everywhere, talk to everyone. Bring your ideas, respect and a smile, but leave your biases at the door. This is the exact opposite of the isolated islands of ideology and information that mark our current political landscape. In a city of islands, no archipelago or barrier reef should be too far flung — no person too distant — for a mayor who wants to govern for all.

One of the most important things Zohran and his campaign have given us back is hope — a feeling critically endangered in recent years. After telling myself in 2020 that I’d never canvass in another primary, I found myself doing so over ten times before June. I cried before the primary multiple times, because optimism can run low even when hope is high, and I cried tears of joy and disbelief when he won.

In this way, Zohran running still feels insane, because he wasn’t supposed to win. But with his victory, we can all win when we achieve a city we can afford.