After Heated Speech Calling Mamdani a Threat to Jewish New Yorkers, Commissioner Reaches Out to Ease Tensions Ahead of Transition
In the bustling heart of New York City’s Midtown, where the glow of holiday lights twinkles against the backdrop of towering skyscrapers and the distant hum of taxis weaves through the evening air, Zohran Mamdani stood on a makeshift stage at a community center on the night of December 3, 2025, his presence a beacon of quiet determination amid a crowd of supporters gathered for a post-election reflection event. Mamdani, the 33-year-old Democratic socialist who had just clinched a stunning upset to become the city’s next mayor, was sharing stories of his immigrant roots—his parents fleeing Uganda’s Idi Amin regime when he was an infant, landing in Queens where he grew up navigating the city’s vibrant mosaic of cultures and challenges. The room, filled with neighbors from Astoria’s diverse blocks—families blending South Asian spices with Italian pastries—listened intently as he spoke of building a New York “for each and every one of us.” But just hours earlier, across town at the Metropolitan Council on Jewish Poverty’s annual holiday dinner, a different narrative had unfolded: Benjamin Tisch, a prominent real estate executive and younger brother of NYPD Commissioner Jessica Tisch, had taken the podium to present an award, his words turning sharply toward Mamdani, labeling him an “enemy” of Jewish New Yorkers in a speech that rippled through the city’s already tense political waters. The next day, December 4, Jessica Tisch reached out personally to Mamdani’s team with an apology, a gesture that bridged the divide with the grace of someone committed to the city’s fragile harmony. For Mamdani and Tisch, both navigating the high-stakes transition to a new mayoralty, the exchange wasn’t just protocol; it was a human moment in the relentless churn of public life—a quiet acknowledgment that words can wound, but understanding can mend, even when the spotlight burns hottest.
The incident at the Met Council’s dinner, held in a grand ballroom overlooking the Hudson where tables groaned under platters of latkes and sufganiyot, began as a celebration of the nonprofit’s work feeding 300,000 New Yorkers yearly amid rising food insecurity. Benjamin Tisch, 42, a vice chairman at Loews Corporation whose family fortune traces to the Loews Hotels empire, was there to honor philanthropist Michael Steinhardt with the organization’s leadership award. As he spoke of the council’s mission—rooted in Jewish values of tikkun olam, or repairing the world—Tisch veered into current events, expressing deep concern over New York City’s future under Mamdani’s impending leadership. “We cannot allow an enemy of the Jewish people to become mayor of New York City,” Tisch said, his voice steady amid applause from the 500 attendees, many leaders in the Jewish philanthropic community. The remark, captured on video and shared widely by evening, drew immediate backlash from Mamdani’s camp and progressive allies, who saw it as inflammatory rhetoric amid a surge in anti-Semitic incidents—up 140% in the city since October 2023, per NYPD data. Tisch, speaking to reporters afterward, stood by his words, framing them as a defense of community safety in a time of heightened tensions. “I’m speaking from the heart for those who feel vulnerable,” he told the New York Post, his tone earnest but unyielding, reflecting the raw emotions that have simmered since the Israel-Hamas conflict erupted.
Mamdani’s rise to the mayoralty, a victory announced November 5 after a grueling primary that pitted his socialist vision against establishment Democrats, has been a story of improbable grit and generational change. Born in Uganda to Indian parents who fled political persecution, he arrived in New York as a toddler and grew up in a Queens apartment where discussions of justice and equity filled the dinner table. Elected to the State Assembly in 2020 at age 28—the youngest Muslim in Albany—he built a record on housing affordability and police reform, refusing corporate PAC money and championing rent freezes that won him 68% in the general election. His campaign, fueled by grassroots volunteers knocking on 200,000 doors, promised a “New York for all,” including bold moves like freezing rents citywide and expanding mental health services. Yet, his vocal criticism of Israel’s actions in Gaza—calling for a cease-fire and divestment from companies tied to the conflict—drew fire from Jewish leaders and pro-Israel groups, who viewed his stance as one-sided amid the war’s toll of 43,000 Palestinian deaths, per Gaza Health Ministry figures. Mamdani has consistently affirmed his support for Israel’s right to exist as a state with equal rights, but his refusal to endorse it as a “Jewish state” has fueled debates, with some seeing it as a principled stand for inclusivity, others as a blind spot to historical traumas.
Jessica Tisch’s apology, conveyed through a direct call to Mamdani’s transition team on December 4, arrived as a bridge in the building tension, a personal outreach from the city’s top cop to its incoming leader. Tisch, 41, a third-generation New Yorker whose family built the Loews empire from vaudeville theaters to luxury hotels, was appointed commissioner in October 2024 by outgoing Mayor Eric Adams, becoming the first woman in the role and the youngest since the 1970s. With a background in counterterrorism from her days at the NYPD’s Intelligence Bureau and a master’s in public policy from Harvard, Tisch has focused on community policing, launching initiatives like the Neighborhood Safety Corps that pair officers with social workers to address mental health calls. Her brother’s speech, delivered at an event she did not attend, caught her off guard, and the apology was swift and sincere. “Commissioner Tisch expressed her deep regret for the remarks and reaffirmed her commitment to serving all New Yorkers with fairness and respect,” Mamdani’s spokesperson said in a statement, noting the incoming mayor’s appreciation for the gesture. Mamdani himself, speaking at a December 4 press availability in Queens, struck a tone of unity: “I look forward to being a mayor for each and every New Yorker, including Jewish New Yorkers.” He added that the conversation with Tisch centered on “delivering public safety and doing so in tandem with justice,” emphasizing that the apology wouldn’t alter their collaboration. For Mamdani, a practicing Muslim who fasts during Ramadan and attends interfaith events, the exchange underscored his approach to governance—one rooted in dialogue amid division.
The backdrop to this moment is New York’s fragile social fabric, strained by the Israel-Hamas war’s echoes that have deepened divides in a city home to 1.3 million Jews, the largest Jewish population outside Israel. Since October 7, 2023, the NYPD has logged over 300 anti-Semitic incidents—vandalism, assaults, harassment— a 30% rise from 2022, per department stats, alongside 50 Islamophobic cases. Tisch, in her first months, has boosted hate crime units by 20 officers and launched the city’s first interfaith safety task force, partnering with mosques, synagogues, and community centers to share intelligence. “Hate has no place in our city—we respond with presence and partnership,” she said in a November 2025 address at Temple Emanu-El, her words a balm for congregants still reeling from synagogue defacings. Benjamin Tisch’s comment, while from a personal platform, amplified those tensions, drawing swift condemnation from groups like the Anti-Defamation League, which called it “divisive rhetoric that harms the very community it seeks to protect.” The Met Council, the event’s host, distanced itself, stating the remarks were “not reflective of our mission to support all New Yorkers.”
Public response unfolded with the nuance of a city that thrives on diversity yet aches from discord, a chorus of voices from social media to street corners. On X, the story trended with 1.2 million mentions, blending support for Tisch’s apology—”A step toward healing”—with calls for broader dialogue: “Mamdani’s right—mayor for all means listening to all.” A December 5 Siena College poll showed 62% of New Yorkers approving of Tisch’s outreach, highest at 78% among Democrats, but only 45% among Republicans wary of Mamdani’s foreign policy stances. In Astoria’s coffee shops, where Mamdani canvassed door-to-door, barista Ahmed Khan, 26, a Pakistani-American, nodded approval over lattes. “Zohran’s my neighbor—he gets it. Apology shows the commissioner’s got heart.” Khan’s family, who attended Mamdani’s victory party with samosas and hope, sees the gesture as progress. Across the river in Brooklyn’s Jewish enclaves, retiree Ruth Goldberg, 72, sipped tea at a deli counter. “Words hurt—apology helps, but actions matter more,” Goldberg said, her voice soft with the wisdom of someone whose synagogue doubled security after 2023 graffiti. Goldberg, a Holocaust survivor’s daughter, values Tisch’s task force but longs for unity: “We’re all New Yorkers—let’s act like it.”
As Mamdani’s January 1 inauguration approaches, with Tisch staying on as commissioner—a decision announced November 15 amid transition talks—the apology stands as a bridge in the boroughs’ beautiful mess. For Khan over his espresso, Goldberg at her deli, and Levin in her synagogue, it’s a thread of connection in a tapestry strained by strife. In New York’s enduring spirit, where bridges span divides and dinners blend flavors, this moment isn’t rupture; it’s reconciliation—a gentle step toward a mayoralty where apologies pave the way for understanding, one heartfelt call at a time.
