
Just a few weeks prior to his election, Zohran Mamdani addressed a crowd outside a Bronx mosque. During this appearance, he delivered what appeared to be the defining speech of his campaign—a message clearly developed over a significant period.
Merely days before, a New York radio personality had suggested that Zohran would “celebrate” if another 9/11 occurred during his tenure. This remark marked the peak of escalating anti-Muslim sentiment that had been present since he announced his candidacy the previous year.
Zohran’s reply was deeply personal. He discussed his experiences and the prevalent atmosphere of fear he, like many Muslim New Yorkers, had endured throughout much of his life. He also recounted a piece of advice from an elder in his community, who had counselled him to conceal his religious identity if he wished to succeed in politics.
Delivering that speech required immense bravery. Zohran could have opted for silence, dedicating the campaign’s final two weeks to his main policy points, thereby sidestepping his detractors’ efforts to degrade the discourse and marginalize him based on his faith. However, there are moments when one must take a stand and declare that enough is enough.
Regrettably, this is a situation I am very familiar with. I have always seen myself not as a Muslim politician, but as a politician who is Muslim. My choice to run for London Mayor was driven by a singular purpose: my resolve to enhance the lives of residents in my city—a city I cherish and one that has provided me with everything. During my initial mayoral campaign, I pledged to serve all Londoners. Nonetheless, competing candidates consistently attempted to characterize me solely by my religious beliefs. Just days before my election, my primary opponent launched an attack, alleging my association with terrorists, illustrated by a picture of a double-decker bus obliterated by an explosion.
Such attacks have continued. Instead of challenging my mayoral decisions as they would any politician with whom they disagreed, a small yet prominent group has sought to dismiss them as actions stemming from a Muslim man. Only last month, the President of the United States asserted in his U.N. General Assembly speech that I was attempting to implement Sharia Law in London!
It’s difficult not to interpret these extravagant accusations as evidence of growing apprehension among President Trump and his supporters, fearing that this divisive political approach is ineffective in cities like London and New York. While it is remarkable that both cities now have Muslim Mayors, in two of the world’s most diverse urban centers, this fact is somewhat secondary. Our victories were not due to our faith; instead, we prevailed by tackling voters’ actual concerns, rather than exploiting them.
Over recent years, an increasing number of analysts and political figures across the Atlantic have been criticizing cities for their liberal principles. They portray a vision of ungoverned chaos and propose familiar authoritarian remedies—ranging from expelling hundreds of thousands of legal migrants by rescinding their residency rights, to deploying the National Guard to suppress opposition. Yet, if you consult most Londoners or New Yorkers, you’ll discover this narrative holds little sway.
The origins of your family or the deity you worship are not concerns for them. They are proud of their urban environment and do not select their leaders based on religious belief, race, or cultural background. Instead, they choose politicians who offer courageous, forward-thinking policies that match the magnitude of the challenges their cities confront. They desire cleaner cities where they can walk freely without fear of inhaling polluted air. They seek more equitable societies where income levels do not dictate their children’s opportunities. They wish for assistance in navigating the cost-of-living crisis. And they aspire to a more robust economy where prosperity benefits everyone.
While Mayor Mamdani and I may not see eye-to-eye on every issue, and many of the obstacles confronting our cities, while similar, are not identical, it is evident that beyond our policy divergences, we share a deeper, more fundamental unity: our conviction in politics’ capacity to improve people’s lives.
For many years, pessimists have foretold the downfall of London and New York. Nevertheless, every time we’ve encountered a period of uncertainty, we’ve emerged more resilient than previously. This resurgence isn’t solely attributable to financial centers like the City or Wall Street, cultural hubs like the West End or Broadway, or iconic sports venues like Wimbledon’s grass courts or Flushing Meadows’ blue acrylic. It’s because London and New York are places where the aspiration of upward social mobility remains vibrant.
Currently, a crisis of affordability jeopardizes that very dream. However, Mayor Mamdani’s success demonstrates that New Yorkers, much like Londoners, understand that the solution lies not in abandoning our defining values. Instead, we must uphold them through policies that safeguard the fundamental pledge of our cities: that regardless of one’s identity or origin, limitless achievement is possible. While some strive to reverse advancement, we remain steadfast. Within our urban centers, fear and discord will not prevail. Hope and solidarity will consistently triumph.