Reflections on Leadership and Recent Political Campaigns

When the second plane struck the South Tower, it was hard to absorb what was happening. There was fear and confusion everywhere. Following that moment, the fires raged at Ground Zero.

Through the chaos, then-Mayor Rudy Giuliani appeared composed and resolute, despite being covered in dust. He wasn’t hiding behind a podium; he was out on the street, making eye contact with people. He had just been sworn in as mayor on September 10, but on September 11, he truly became a leader for everyone.

That’s what I call real leadership. A month after the attack, Giuliani stated, “This is not a clash of civilizations. This is a clash between murderers and humanity… The only acceptable outcome is the complete and total eradication of terrorism.”

Fast forward more than two decades, and we have politicians like Zoran Mamdani, who seem to mistake performance for principle and view weakness as wisdom. A man who, I think, couldn’t lift 135 pounds now aims to uplift an entire city by undermining the very foundations that keep it strong.

Let’s be clear: Mamdani’s campaign isn’t really about free buses. It’s more about creating division. He made conscious choices—twice—to downplay the darkest moments in the city’s history to show off to his progressive peers.

Earlier this month, he shared a photo from Brooklyn’s Masjid-at-Taqwa, beaming while celebrating “the joy of meeting Imam Siraj Wahaj.” Wahaj has a questionable history, being an unindicted co-conspirator in the 1993 World Trade Center bombing, despite later testifying against the “blind sheikh” Omar Abdel-Rahman.

Just take a look at that photo, and you might question his moral judgment. But he didn’t stop there.

Then comes the “Invisible Lady” on the left side of the stage. With dramatic flair, Mamdani tearfully expressed, “I want to speak to the memory of my aunt, who stopped using the subway after September 11th because she felt unsafe in a hijab.”

This moment should’ve derailed his campaign—it fell flat across the city. What was that about?

The tears were meant to humanize his stance, but they ended up mocking one of America’s worst days. He compared a woman’s subway anxiety to those who had to jump from the Twin Towers to escape flames. Watching his speech felt like a stab in the back to many. He paused as if to gather himself, telling his story through tears. And was that really sincere? I can’t help but wonder.

Vice President Vance captured the outrage perfectly: “According to Zoran, the real victim of 9/11 was, supposedly, his aunt who had a bad look.” Headlines soon followed, calling him out for “fake tears” and inaccuracies. A little digging revealed that his so-called “aunt” doesn’t even live in New York anymore, making her subway fears questionable. daily mail One woman connected to him remarked that these people are simply “distant cousins.” (Related: Mamdani admits ‘aunt’ in hijab sob story is not actually an aunt)

Regardless of whether this woman even exists, bringing her into a conversation about a day when people desperately fought for their lives is appalling.

I feel a mix of outrage and sadness for those who truly grasped what happened on September 11, 2001. It was no trivial matter. It represented bravery in the face of horror, and countless burials followed. Months after, I learned that more firefighters from New York are succumbing to 9/11-related illnesses than during the immediate aftermath.

No one who remembers that day should even consider voting for this man. Honestly, I’m shocked he hasn’t been confronted by first responders who still vividly recall that morning. Many of them are too sick or incapacitated to participate, which has its own implications. His words are delivered fearlessly, maybe honestly, but devoid of any empathy. (Related: Socialist Zoran Mamdani’s once-huge lead disappears in just one week, poll shows)

I resent the thought of this man becoming New York’s mayor, and I don’t even live there. He has never held a genuine job, failed to get into Columbia University—where his father teaches—and is a proven liar who has muddled the truth about his identity on his citizenship application. These aren’t just mistakes; they seem like calculated moves from someone desperately seeking power they neither deserve nor can manage.

On September 11, 2001, I was a 22-year-old reporter in Pittsburgh, watching the horror unfold from afar. I can’t vote in this election, but as a human being, I feel a palpable concern for New Yorkers, the police, and first responders. That’s what perspective and empathy should look like. I still remember my first visit to New York, where I bought an NYPD sweatshirt for $10 from a street vendor and wore it until it fell apart. At that time, I felt a connection to the city, and I still do.