City Hall Uproar: Soros-Backed Lawyer and Anti-Police Fundraiser Lead Mamdani’s Team

Paul Riverbank, 12/16/2025Mamdani’s leadership picks ignite debate over radical ties, legal controversies, and police reform agendas.

If you mention Kassem in legal circles, stories tend to surface: his work on high-profile human rights cases, his steady calm during courtroom storms. Critics, though, are circling for other reasons. Kassem represented Mahmoud Khalil, a Palestinian advocate whose confrontations with police on Columbia’s campus made local news when immigration officers detained him. And several years back, it was Kassem defending Ahmed al-Darbi, convicted for the 2002 al Qaeda attack on a French oil tanker.

For some in New York, these cases aren’t just resumes—they’re red flags. Ken Frydman, a longtime Democratic strategist, didn’t mince words when asked about Kassem. “There’s a difference between believing legal representation is a right…and choosing certain clients,” Frydman pointed out to one reporter. “It makes a statement.”

Glancing back through old op-eds from Kassem’s Columbia Law days, his arguments against Israel’s policies leap off the page, along with his plain skepticism about the two-state solution ever working in the Middle East. It's worth noting: his legal clinic at CUNY has financial ties to George Soros’s Open Society Foundations, a detail some conservatives spotlight whenever Kassem’s name appears.

But Kassem is hardly alone on the list of controversial appointments. Take Jack Gross—it’s unlikely you’d know his face, but his activism put him on Mamdani’s economic development team. Social media posts show Gross at rallies chanting pointedly anti-police slogans, his online rhetoric drifting at times toward revolutionary, almost biblical condemnation of the American system: “A wicked nation that must be punished for its sins,” he wrote one late evening. Gross is also notable for his fundraising muscle—over $21,000 delivered for the campaign—not a small feat in a citywide race.

The graders of background checks have also been busy, sometimes with disappointing results. Mysonne Linen, a Bronx rapper with a criminal record that he’s spoken about on stage and off, is now part of the mayor-elect’s criminal justice circle. Transition paperwork listed yet another lightning rod, Lumumba Bandele, celebrated in some quarters for his activism but derided elsewhere for past praise of those who took up arms against police.

Between typos in official documents and the hurried pace of announcements, it’s little wonder that doubts about the administration’s vetting process have multiplied. Silence from Mamdani’s press office hasn’t helped quiet things either.

Those sounding alarm bells say this team isn’t what they had in mind when they thought of progressive policy. “These are the radicals we warned you about,” one columnist thundered on a talk show, ticking off names as if reading from a protest flyer. The implication: this is less a political shift than a full-scale rupture.

A few, though, argue for cautious appraisal. Paul Mauro, an attorney often seen on cable news, invoked a recent overseas crisis: a Muslim bystander’s quick actions during a terror attack. “Nuance matters,” Mauro noted on air. “Justice isn’t about simple categories.” It’s the kind of sentiment that comes to mind now, as labels and loyalties clash in New York’s echo chambers.

Walking through Foley Square just after sunset, you might hear echoes of the uncertainty—city workers on their phones, protesters unpacking signs, reporters chasing the next quote. The city waits to see what a Mamdani administration really means, and whether its personnel choices are a sign of bold reform or deeper divides ahead. In the meantime, New Yorkers do what they always do: wait, watch, and wonder about the next headline.

It was just another gray morning outside City Hall when news broke that Zohran Mamdani, the city’s soon-to-be mayor, had stirred up more controversy—this time with the names appearing on his leadership roster. Within hours, whispers turned to headlines focused on Ramzi Kassem, a law professor from CUNY, currently guiding the mayor-elect’s transition efforts but apparently destined for an influential legal position at City Hall.If you mention Kassem in legal circles, stories tend to surface: his work on high-profile human rights cases, his steady calm during courtroom storms. Critics, though, are circling for other reasons. Kassem represented Mahmoud Khalil, a Palestinian advocate whose confrontations with police on Columbia’s campus made local news when immigration officers detained him. And several years back, it was Kassem defending Ahmed al-Darbi, convicted for the 2002 al Qaeda attack on a French oil tanker.For some in New York, these cases aren’t just resumes—they’re red flags. Ken Frydman, a longtime Democratic strategist, didn’t mince words when asked about Kassem. “There’s a difference between believing legal representation is a right…and choosing certain clients,” Frydman pointed out to one reporter. “It makes a statement.”Glancing back through old op-eds from Kassem’s Columbia Law days, his arguments against Israel’s policies leap off the page, along with his plain skepticism about the two-state solution ever working in the Middle East. It's worth noting: his legal clinic at CUNY has financial ties to George Soros’s Open Society Foundations, a detail some conservatives spotlight whenever Kassem’s name appears.But Kassem is hardly alone on the list of controversial appointments. Take Jack Gross—it’s unlikely you’d know his face, but his activism put him on Mamdani’s economic development team. Social media posts show Gross at rallies chanting pointedly anti-police slogans, his online rhetoric drifting at times toward revolutionary, almost biblical condemnation of the American system: “A wicked nation that must be punished for its sins,” he wrote one late evening. Gross is also notable for his fundraising muscle—over $21,000 delivered for the campaign—not a small feat in a citywide race.The graders of background checks have also been busy, sometimes with disappointing results. Mysonne Linen, a Bronx rapper with a criminal record that he’s spoken about on stage and off, is now part of the mayor-elect’s criminal justice circle. Transition paperwork listed yet another lightning rod, Lumumba Bandele, celebrated in some quarters for his activism but derided elsewhere for past praise of those who took up arms against police.Between typos in official documents and the hurried pace of announcements, it’s little wonder that doubts about the administration’s vetting process have multiplied. Silence from Mamdani’s press office hasn’t helped quiet things either.Those sounding alarm bells say this team isn’t what they had in mind when they thought of progressive policy. “These are the radicals we warned you about,” one columnist thundered on a talk show, ticking off names as if reading from a protest flyer. The implication: this is less a political shift than a full-scale rupture.A few, though, argue for cautious appraisal. Paul Mauro, an attorney often seen on cable news, invoked a recent overseas crisis: a Muslim bystander’s quick actions during a terror attack. “Nuance matters,” Mauro noted on air. “Justice isn’t about simple categories.” It’s the kind of sentiment that comes to mind now, as labels and loyalties clash in New York’s echo chambers.Walking through Foley Square just after sunset, you might hear echoes of the uncertainty—city workers on their phones, protesters unpacking signs, reporters chasing the next quote. The city waits to see what a Mamdani administration really means, and whether its personnel choices are a sign of bold reform or deeper divides ahead. In the meantime, New Yorkers do what they always do: wait, watch, and wonder about the next headline.