Eric Adams’ Final Power Play: Last-Minute Charter Shakeup Sparks Outrage

Paul Riverbank, 1/1/2026Eric Adams’ eleventh-hour charter commissions spark uproar as NYC's political future pivots.

But Adams never had much use for goodbyes. In what’s become something of a signature move—late-night curveballs—he capped off his City Hall reign with another surprise: a fresh Charter Revision Commission, pretty much stacked with his own confidants. Just hours before midnight, their names—virtually a who’s who from Adams’ inner circle—hit the wires. Marty Connor, best known for his years wrangling election law, would steer the ship as chair, with reliable faces like Kayla Mamelak, Adams’ former comms director, and Robert Tucker, a City Hall regular, on board. A few members, sources say, learned about their new gig the same moment everyone else did.

What’s the goal here? The headline item is opening up New York’s closed primary elections to the city’s unaffiliated million-strong voting bloc—folks who pay taxes and ride the subways, but aren’t allowed a say in the political sorting hat’s first round. Adams, never afraid of shaking up settled traditions, called the panel “trailblazing leaders.” His pitch: build inclusiveness, expand democracy.

But as with most late-game maneuvers from City Hall, controversy trailed close behind. For many in the City Council, it was déjà vu. Outgoing Speaker Adrienne Adams didn’t mince words, accusing the mayor of playing the charter process to sidestep checks and “abusing power right down to the buzzer.” To them, it smelled like another classic Adams play—blur the system’s boundaries, keep the element of surprise.

The commission’s broader scope, insiders admit quietly, might even touch the city’s fiercely guarded sanctuary laws. Yet for the moment, open primaries remain the headline act, the bit most likely to end up on your November ballot—if the commission ever gets that far.

Here’s where things get interesting. Though this panel could, in theory, draft questions for the voters—rewriting rules that have defined city politics for generations—the keys to real influence now sit with the incoming mayor. Zohran Mamdani, taking office as midnight tolls, can’t scrap the commission outright. But if he decides to starve it of funds or resources, it won’t get far. “He could make it all but irrelevant,” a senior official in City Hall confided, voice tinged with resignation and a trace of amusement.

This handover is more than ceremonial. Mamdani’s arrival, as the city’s first Muslim mayor, comes with its own milestone—his swearing-in will be on the Quran, a first for New York’s highest seat. His style is notably different from his predecessor’s. At only 34, Mamdani has made waves as a self-described socialist, championing policies that stand in open contrast to Adams’ pragmatic—sometimes theatrical—brand of governance.

The debate over letting New York’s independents into party primaries isn’t new; previous blue-ribbon panels have flirted with the idea, only to back away. Reform-minded groups like Citizens Union keep pushing for change but have criticized this particular commission as a last-minute effort lacking real legitimacy.

What remains? Adams, on his final day, seemed eager to soak up the moment, joking about a “cigar and a single malt Scotch” as his send-off. The city, meanwhile, welcomed a new chapter—familiar with high drama and sudden shifts, but uncertain whether this new commission will actually change anything or quickly become another City Hall footnote.

In politics, as in coffee mugs, you never know which quote will stick. Adams ends his term still unfiltered, a little unpredictable, and, at the very end, still writing his own punchlines.

Eric Adams didn’t see the need for a grand exit parade. Instead, he sat down in front of a camera, clutching his coffee like a well-traveled sidekick—his mug, real New York, sprouting a sprawl of offbeat catchphrases from his years in the firing line. “I wake up in the morning sometimes and look at myself and give myself the finger,” he read, grinning as though sharing a private joke with the city he’d just spent years trying to tame. If ever a piece of dishware could sum up the man—defiant, plainspoken, rarely shy about self-deprecation—this was that mug.But Adams never had much use for goodbyes. In what’s become something of a signature move—late-night curveballs—he capped off his City Hall reign with another surprise: a fresh Charter Revision Commission, pretty much stacked with his own confidants. Just hours before midnight, their names—virtually a who’s who from Adams’ inner circle—hit the wires. Marty Connor, best known for his years wrangling election law, would steer the ship as chair, with reliable faces like Kayla Mamelak, Adams’ former comms director, and Robert Tucker, a City Hall regular, on board. A few members, sources say, learned about their new gig the same moment everyone else did.What’s the goal here? The headline item is opening up New York’s closed primary elections to the city’s unaffiliated million-strong voting bloc—folks who pay taxes and ride the subways, but aren’t allowed a say in the political sorting hat’s first round. Adams, never afraid of shaking up settled traditions, called the panel “trailblazing leaders.” His pitch: build inclusiveness, expand democracy.But as with most late-game maneuvers from City Hall, controversy trailed close behind. For many in the City Council, it was déjà vu. Outgoing Speaker Adrienne Adams didn’t mince words, accusing the mayor of playing the charter process to sidestep checks and “abusing power right down to the buzzer.” To them, it smelled like another classic Adams play—blur the system’s boundaries, keep the element of surprise.The commission’s broader scope, insiders admit quietly, might even touch the city’s fiercely guarded sanctuary laws. Yet for the moment, open primaries remain the headline act, the bit most likely to end up on your November ballot—if the commission ever gets that far.Here’s where things get interesting. Though this panel could, in theory, draft questions for the voters—rewriting rules that have defined city politics for generations—the keys to real influence now sit with the incoming mayor. Zohran Mamdani, taking office as midnight tolls, can’t scrap the commission outright. But if he decides to starve it of funds or resources, it won’t get far. “He could make it all but irrelevant,” a senior official in City Hall confided, voice tinged with resignation and a trace of amusement.This handover is more than ceremonial. Mamdani’s arrival, as the city’s first Muslim mayor, comes with its own milestone—his swearing-in will be on the Quran, a first for New York’s highest seat. His style is notably different from his predecessor’s. At only 34, Mamdani has made waves as a self-described socialist, championing policies that stand in open contrast to Adams’ pragmatic—sometimes theatrical—brand of governance.The debate over letting New York’s independents into party primaries isn’t new; previous blue-ribbon panels have flirted with the idea, only to back away. Reform-minded groups like Citizens Union keep pushing for change but have criticized this particular commission as a last-minute effort lacking real legitimacy.What remains? Adams, on his final day, seemed eager to soak up the moment, joking about a “cigar and a single malt Scotch” as his send-off. The city, meanwhile, welcomed a new chapter—familiar with high drama and sudden shifts, but uncertain whether this new commission will actually change anything or quickly become another City Hall footnote.In politics, as in coffee mugs, you never know which quote will stick. Adams ends his term still unfiltered, a little unpredictable, and, at the very end, still writing his own punchlines.