Zohran Mamdani and the Rhetoric of Red Lines

By Matthias J. Becker (University of Cambridge; Senior Research Fellow, AddressHate) and Liora Sabra (New York University)

Today is Election Day in New York City, and few figures in the city’s political landscape have sparked as much media attention in recent weeks as Zohran Mamdani. Since announcing his bid for mayor in early 2025, the Assemblymember from Queens has become a lightning rod for public controversy—not because of corruption or scandal, but due to the rhetoric he uses when speaking about Israel, Zionism, and Jewish identity. What began as a refusal to disavow the slogan “globalize the intifada” has escalated into a broader debate about the limits of political expression, the boundaries between criticism, anti-Zionism, and antisemitism, and the responsibilities of public figures in shaping digital discourse.

Mainstream newspapers, Jewish organizations, and Holocaust remembrance institutions have all weighed in; Mamdani’s statements—and his deliberate silences—have become the subject of op-eds, televised debates, and public condemnations. This is no fleeting controversy: for months, the discourse surrounding Mamdani has exposed deeper tensions within progressive politics, where solidarity with Palestine increasingly intersects with antisemitic tropes—sometimes knowingly, more often implicitly.

This is a critical debate—especially given that Mamdani is not only running for mayor but, according to current polling, is likely to become the most powerful political figure in the city.

Zohran Kwame Mamdani, born in Kampala in 1991 to postcolonial theorist Mahmood Mamdani and filmmaker Mira Nair, rose to prominence as part of New York’s ascendant socialist left. A graduate of Bowdoin College—where he co-founded a chapter of Students for Justice in Palestine—he initially worked in housing justice and taxi driver advocacy before being elected to the New York State Assembly in 2020. Since then, Mamdani has become a prominent advocate for rent control, fare-free public transport, and anti-capitalist reform, helping to position democratic socialism as a growing force in urban American politics. His 2025 mayoral campaign, endorsed by Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and Bernie Sanders, represents the left-most flank of the Democratic field.

Mamdani has increasingly come under fire for the rhetoric he employs when addressing the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, Holocaust memory, and antisemitism—language that critics argue frequently slips into historical distortion, double standards, and symbolic or verbal violence. This includes his promotion of slogans such as “globalize the intifada,” widely interpreted as a euphemism for violent uprising and a call to normalize radical opposition to the Jewish state and Jews worldwide.

Another layer of controversy erupted with the resurfacing of a 2017 rap video in which Mamdani—performing under the name Mr. Cardamom—referenced the ‘Holy Land Five’ in a manner critics have described as sympathetic. The group was convicted of funneling money to Hamas under the guise of charitable work. This resurfaced endorsement further complicates Mamdani’s public image, suggesting alignment with individuals found guilty of supporting a designated terrorist organization.

Most troubling, however, is Mamdani’s implicit comparison between the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising—a desperate act of Jewish resistance against Nazi extermination—and the current situation in the West Bank and Gaza.

As a public official, Mamdani inevitably wields symbolic influence. The language and slogans he uses—and refuses to clarify—help shape how others frame, interpret, and justify their own expressions. If elected, New York would be governed by a figure whose statements already reflect discursive tendencies that, intentionally or not, risk trivializing the Holocaust through analogy and reframing incitement against Jews as expressions of legitimate political struggle. The implications could be far-reaching—not only for the city’s civic culture, but for national discourse more broadly, given New York’s outsized role in setting progressive norms across the United States.

Against this backdrop, we examine the discursive terrain shaped by Mamdani’s statements and their digital aftershocks. His public rhetoric—and the slogans he elevates—provide insight into how antisemitic discourse circulates in contemporary progressive ecosystems, not in its most overt forms, but through euphemism, distortion, and context-dependent signaling.

Our analysis centers on Mamdani’s own communications across traditional and social media, as well as the wider discursive environments they help shape. Special attention is given to statements by his followers and ideological allies, many of whom express antisemitic hostility under the guise of political activism. By tracking these dynamics, we aim to demonstrate how ambiguous slogans and rhetorical inversions contribute to the normalization—and eventual escalation—of antisemitic content within seemingly progressive digital publics.

Importantly, this study does not aim to pathologize a single political actor or community. Rather, our objective is to offer a scientifically grounded, discourse-analytic framework that enables readers to distinguish between legitimate political critique and speech acts that reproduce antisemitic narratives—whether through historical distortion, double standards, delegitimization, or incitement. By applying consistent classification criteria and highlighting both overt and borderline cases, we aim to support informed judgment, recognizing both the gray zones of rhetorical ambiguity and the more visible patterns of digital hate.

Analysis of His Statements

Zohran Mamdani’s public rhetoric—particularly surrounding slogans such as “globalize the intifada” and “from the river to the sea”—has prompted widespread debate, not only for its political implications but also for its symbolic, historical, and discursive dimensions. At the center of this controversy is Mamdani’s repeated refusal to condemn these slogans, alongside his insistence that they represent a metaphorical “desire for equality and equal rights in standing up for Palestinian human rights.” This framing deliberately seeks to strip the phrases of their violent or antisemitic associations by casting them in the language of universal justice and liberation.

Yet the historical weight of these slogans resists such neutralization. Both are deeply embedded in political contexts that cannot be easily disentangled from their exclusionary or violent implications. Their use—particularly by an elected official—raises critical questions about the rhetorical boundaries between legitimate political critique and coded incitement, and the role linguistic ambiguity plays in facilitating the mainstreaming of antisemitic narratives.

To understand why these phrases are so controversial, it is necessary to unpack their historical and political resonance. The term intifada, while literally meaning “uprising” or “shaking off” in Arabic, is inseparable from its use in the two violent uprisings against Israel known as the First and Second Intifadas. The latter, in particular, was marked by suicide bombings, targeted killings, and attacks on civilians, and has become synonymous in Israeli and Jewish collective memory with terrorism and trauma. Similarly, the phrase “from the river to the sea”—used by Palestinian nationalist movements as well as terrorist organizations—has long been interpreted as a call for the elimination of the Israeli state. While some activists attempt to recast the phrase as a call for liberation and equality, its history and usage frequently align with the erasure of Jewish self-determination in the Levant. In some Arabic versions, the phrase has been rendered not as “Palestine will be free,” but as “Palestine will be Arabic”—a formulation that implies the removal of Jewish presence and, in realistic terms, signals ethnic cleansing.

This asymmetry in moral outrage is further illustrated by the singular focus on Israel, often to the exclusion of comparable scrutiny toward other global conflicts. Geopolitics viewed primarily through the Israeli-Palestinian lens not only flattens complex realities—it obscures crucial questions: Why have so many peace initiatives since 1948 failed? And which actors—state and non-state—have worked to undermine them?

The consequences of rhetorical normalization are far from theoretical. Even slogans widely seen as moderate—like “Free Palestine”—can be blatantly misused, as illustrated by the events of May 21, 2025, when a Jewish-American and an Israeli-German citizen were murdered outside a diplomatic event in Washington, D.C. The perpetrator, Elias Rodriguez, reportedly shouted “Free, free Palestine” during the attack. While phrases such as “Free Palestine,” “intifada,” and “from the river to the sea” are not inherently antisemitic, they remain highly susceptible to ideological co-optation. Notably, Rodriguez did not reference “intifada” or “from the river to the sea”—demonstrating that even less inflammatory language can become a vehicle for ideologically motivated violence when embedded in a broader narrative of delegitimization and dehumanization. This dynamic not only endangers Jewish communities; it also undermines the credibility of the wider movement and shrinks the space for honest, constructive dialogue. The result is a discursive landscape increasingly shaped by polarization and mistrust—eroding both public safety and the possibility of mutual understanding.

In defending the phrase “globalize the intifada,” Mamdani cited institutional language—specifically, the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum’s Arabic translation of the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising, in which the term intifada was used as a technical equivalent for “uprising.” He presented this as evidence of the term’s neutrality or even nobility. However, this rhetorical move has been widely understood to imply a moral equivalence between Jewish resistance during the Holocaust and Palestinian resistance today. While Mamdani does not explicitly compare Gaza to Nazi-era ghettos, his invocation of Holocaust imagery blurs those lines. In doing so, he engages in what scholars term Holocaust inversion—a discursive form of antisemitism that recasts Jews as perpetrators of the very crimes once committed against them. Such analogies are not only historically false and morally troubling; they trivialize the Holocaust, delegitimize Jewish suffering, and portray the Jewish state as inherently genocidal. This rhetoric activates long-standing antisemitic tropes, including the reversal of victim and perpetrator roles and the projection of cruelty onto Jewish identity—often cloaked in the language of anti-colonialism or human rights.

The Holocaust Memorial Museum swiftly rejected Mamdani’s framing. In an official statement, it condemned the appropriation as “outrageous and especially offensive to survivors,” emphasizing that a technical translation decision cannot be used to sanitize slogans historically linked to incitement and violence. Mamdani’s maneuver thus appears not only misleading but suggestive of a broader rhetorical tendency to reframe historically charged language as morally defensible while deflecting substantive criticism.

Another response to Mamdani’s reframing of these terms comes from New York City Comptroller Brad Lander, fellow mayoral candidate and cross-endorser of Mamdani, expressed discomfort with his refusal to disavow the slogan, noting its common association among Jews to the threat of violence.

Despite this opposition, Mamdani’s rhetoric has also found considerable support within certain progressive circles. His outspoken advocacy for Palestinian rights and his critique of Israeli policies resonate deeply with many who see him as a voice for the marginalized. Some of his allies argue that his use of controversial slogans like “globalize the intifada” is an expression of solidarity with Palestinian struggles, not an endorsement of violence. They assert that Mamdani’s stance reflects a broader push for justice and human rights, rejecting the idea that his words should be equated with antisemitism. For them, Mamdani’s rhetoric serves as an important challenge to mainstream political discourse, questioning the power dynamics in global conflicts and offering a counter-narrative to dominant Western perspectives on the Israeli-Palestinian issue.

This ambiguity raises difficult but necessary questions. Is Mamdani being purposely ambiguous in his rhetoric? One might assume that with multiple opportunities to address the statements, he would want to clarify what he means when he uses this language. In his emotional, nearly three-minute-long speech, he does not make any direct antisemitic comments–quite the opposite–he espouses Jews, calling them a “key part” of the city (see also YT and CBS). He continues to discuss his own experiences of Islamophobia, being demonized, and facing death threats. He calls for unity among Jews and Muslims, and across all boroughs, and at face value, his message is one of positive change.

But crucially, he fails to address the specific rhetoric under scrutiny. What is gained by remaining vague? Perhaps he believes he has given enough clarification and is apprehensive to give further credence to claims of antisemitism. On the other hand, perhaps more candid remarks would alienate parts of his base. This leads to broader questions: Does antisemitism depend on intent, or on effect? If the harm is unintended, who bears responsibility—the individual, the audience, or the movement as a whole? Mamdani’s public platform places the burden of that responsibility on him.

It is essential to emphasize that neither this article nor the follow-up case study claims that Mamdani harbors antisemitic intent. Rather, the analysis demonstrates how ambiguous slogans, analogical abuse, and strategic silence can produce a climate that facilitates antisemitism—even in the absence of explicit hate speech. Political figures, especially those with a substantial digital reach, bear responsibility for how their language circulates, mutates, and is interpreted by their audiences. While Mamdani does not openly endorse violence, the consequences of his rhetoric extend far beyond intent. The language he amplifies—and refuses to clarify—contributes to a discursive environment in which antisemitism is increasingly normalized under the guise of social justice. In this way, Mamdani’s discourse reveals the porous boundary between radical critique and symbolic violence, where moral posturing, historical manipulation, and semantic reframing obscure more than they illuminate.

By analyzing these dynamics through a discourse-analytic lens, we aim to clarify how antisemitic tropes are reproduced in progressive spaces—not only through the words of public figures, but also through the ecosystems they help shape. In these spaces, antisemitism is often expressed by allies and followers under the cover of activism. Understanding these mechanisms is essential for distinguishing legitimate political critique from speech acts that perpetuate historical trauma, normalize hate, and incite real-world harm.

To explore how such dynamics unfold in practice, we turn to the digital aftermath of Mamdani’s recent statements. In the days following his public remarks and media appearances, social media platforms were inundated with reactionary antisemitic comments and threats. In our next publication, we will present findings from a study based on over 2,000 comments collected across X, Instagram, and TikTok. The analysis reveals that rhetoric like Mamdani’s can contribute to the normalization and spread of antisemitic ideas and historical revisionism. By examining comments across multiple platforms, we gained a comprehensive understanding of the current digital climate and the discursive impulses triggered by Mamdani’s language and the surrounding controversy. Our aim is to map the broader communicative landscape shaped—and, at times, inflamed—by the digital politics of ambiguity.

At a time when even prominent Western politicians fail to clearly distance themselves from coded forms of hate speech—rhetoric that entails not only projection but also implicit incitements to violence—the scholarly analysis of the interplay between real-world events, public discourse, and digital communication dynamics becomes increasingly urgent.

This article is an independent discourse analysis based solely on public statements and media content. It does not purport to evaluate Zohran Mamdani’s personal beliefs or intentions.