Federal Funds at Risk as Mamdani Axes Jewish Safeguards in NYC

Paul Riverbank, 2/6/2026NYC faces backlash, funding risks as mayor axes Jewish safeguards, sparking national debate over antisemitism.

To get at the heart of this drama, it helps to start with a late-winter letter. Senator Bill Cassidy, who heads the Senate committee on Health, Education, Labor and Pensions, didn’t mince words: he called out Mamdani’s administration for what he described as the unsettling rollback of crucial safeguards for New York’s Jewish community. Beyond rhetoric, Cassidy’s warning shot tied city policy to something very tangible—a pending $2.2 billion in federal funding, still dangling as the public school system awaits Washington’s verdict.

What catalyzed this scrutiny? In a sweeping move that left both allies and critics scrambling to decipher the strategy, Mamdani voided every one of former Mayor Eric Adams’ executive orders issued after Adams was indicted on corruption charges last fall. Included in the purge: a fresh mandate creating the Mayor's Office to Combat Antisemitism, which had leaned on the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA) definition—a detail whose symbolic weight can’t be overstated. This definition, widely embraced by governments and institutions, is the prism through which many official bodies now understand and address antisemitism.

Cassidy’s letter, bracing in its language, challenged Mamdani on multiple fronts. Not only did he question the wisdom of forsaking a global standard, he zeroed in on the city’s obligations under federal law: “Continued eligibility for this funding is contingent on compliance with federal civil rights laws and applicable executive orders designed to protect students,” he wrote, making explicit what many had only whispered.

For a city whose identity is woven through Jewish history and tradition, the ferment was immediate. Some 53% of Jewish voters in a recent poll confessed to feeling “threatened” by comments Mamdani and his circle had made, leaving little doubt that mere policy wonkery was not at stake here. At the same time, Mamdani's position—that the IHRA definition can be used to conflate legitimate criticism of Israel with antisemitism—found support in corners of the left, where debates about BDS and the boundaries of free speech have never been more raw.

The mayor, for his part, insists his goal is to protect Jewish New Yorkers, not single them out for less. Yet he’s drawn ire with his support for the Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions movement—a stance he says is grounded in nonviolent protest, though his critics decry it as an assault on the legitimacy of the Jewish state.

It’s not just talk—the roster of city officials has shifted, too. In late January, with criticism already swirling, Mamdani appointed Phylisa Wisdom, a progressive voice from the New York Jewish Agenda, to run the city’s antisemitism office. The group describes itself as “liberal, progressive Zionists,” and notably opposes BDS—an irony lost on none of the activists who labeled the move cosmetic, if not politically calculated. Councilman Simcha Felder, rarely one to hold back, called the appointment a “disgrace,” expressing open skepticism that it would do anything to ease Orthodox Jewish concerns.

Wisdom’s public introduction offered a counterpoint of calm and resolve. She promised to keep “Jewish safety and belonging” at the heart of city policy, highlighting the “diverse array of Jewish voices” she intends to bring before City Hall. For many, her remarks offered at least the beginnings of bridge-building; for others, they only sharpened fears, crystallizing the stakes of a pluralistic democracy in a city pulled between its progressive ambitions and its obligation to do right by all its citizens.

Elsewhere inside city government, events took a more unpredictable turn. The Department of Health, far removed from the diplomatic fray, triggered a fresh uproar with this season’s launch of a “Global Oppression and Public Health Working Group.” At the group’s first meeting, discussion of “the ongoing genocide in Palestine” caused discomfort, even among veteran city officials. Should a public health agency join the fray over Middle East geopolitics—or worse, allow such debate to guide its work? Mark Botnick, once a close hand to Mayor Bloomberg, wondered aloud if this meant a coming boycott of Israeli medical suppliers, whose drugs many New Yorkers rely on for survival. “Performative politics,” he said, “has no place in a taxpayer-funded public health agency.”

All of this would matter less if it were playing out on the fringe, but the city’s response—whatever course it chooses—could ripple across the nation. Mamdani has only days to respond to Cassidy’s demands, clarifying how New York will balance the fight against antisemitism with a commitment to open debate about Israel. On paper, that’s a matter of policy briefings and interagency memos, but in reality it’s a collision of history, identity, fear, and trust.

You don’t need to squint to see the crossroads ahead: What controls are enough to keep hate in check, and at what point do those controls start to police the public square itself? New York’s answer won’t just rest on a legal definition or a soundbite; it will rest on the willingness of its leaders—and its citizens—to confront uncomfortable truths and chart a path all their own, beneath the watchful gaze of both Washington and the communities they serve.

Few political storms gather quite as quickly or as tensely as the one now focused on New York City Hall, where Mayor Zohran Mamdani's recent policy reversals have set off alarms well beyond the city’s five boroughs. What started as a wonky debate over municipal executive orders has spiraled into a test of political nerve—with federal oversight, community anxieties, and deep national divisions in play.To get at the heart of this drama, it helps to start with a late-winter letter. Senator Bill Cassidy, who heads the Senate committee on Health, Education, Labor and Pensions, didn’t mince words: he called out Mamdani’s administration for what he described as the unsettling rollback of crucial safeguards for New York’s Jewish community. Beyond rhetoric, Cassidy’s warning shot tied city policy to something very tangible—a pending $2.2 billion in federal funding, still dangling as the public school system awaits Washington’s verdict.What catalyzed this scrutiny? In a sweeping move that left both allies and critics scrambling to decipher the strategy, Mamdani voided every one of former Mayor Eric Adams’ executive orders issued after Adams was indicted on corruption charges last fall. Included in the purge: a fresh mandate creating the Mayor's Office to Combat Antisemitism, which had leaned on the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA) definition—a detail whose symbolic weight can’t be overstated. This definition, widely embraced by governments and institutions, is the prism through which many official bodies now understand and address antisemitism.Cassidy’s letter, bracing in its language, challenged Mamdani on multiple fronts. Not only did he question the wisdom of forsaking a global standard, he zeroed in on the city’s obligations under federal law: “Continued eligibility for this funding is contingent on compliance with federal civil rights laws and applicable executive orders designed to protect students,” he wrote, making explicit what many had only whispered.For a city whose identity is woven through Jewish history and tradition, the ferment was immediate. Some 53% of Jewish voters in a recent poll confessed to feeling “threatened” by comments Mamdani and his circle had made, leaving little doubt that mere policy wonkery was not at stake here. At the same time, Mamdani's position—that the IHRA definition can be used to conflate legitimate criticism of Israel with antisemitism—found support in corners of the left, where debates about BDS and the boundaries of free speech have never been more raw.The mayor, for his part, insists his goal is to protect Jewish New Yorkers, not single them out for less. Yet he’s drawn ire with his support for the Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions movement—a stance he says is grounded in nonviolent protest, though his critics decry it as an assault on the legitimacy of the Jewish state.It’s not just talk—the roster of city officials has shifted, too. In late January, with criticism already swirling, Mamdani appointed Phylisa Wisdom, a progressive voice from the New York Jewish Agenda, to run the city’s antisemitism office. The group describes itself as “liberal, progressive Zionists,” and notably opposes BDS—an irony lost on none of the activists who labeled the move cosmetic, if not politically calculated. Councilman Simcha Felder, rarely one to hold back, called the appointment a “disgrace,” expressing open skepticism that it would do anything to ease Orthodox Jewish concerns.Wisdom’s public introduction offered a counterpoint of calm and resolve. She promised to keep “Jewish safety and belonging” at the heart of city policy, highlighting the “diverse array of Jewish voices” she intends to bring before City Hall. For many, her remarks offered at least the beginnings of bridge-building; for others, they only sharpened fears, crystallizing the stakes of a pluralistic democracy in a city pulled between its progressive ambitions and its obligation to do right by all its citizens.Elsewhere inside city government, events took a more unpredictable turn. The Department of Health, far removed from the diplomatic fray, triggered a fresh uproar with this season’s launch of a “Global Oppression and Public Health Working Group.” At the group’s first meeting, discussion of “the ongoing genocide in Palestine” caused discomfort, even among veteran city officials. Should a public health agency join the fray over Middle East geopolitics—or worse, allow such debate to guide its work? Mark Botnick, once a close hand to Mayor Bloomberg, wondered aloud if this meant a coming boycott of Israeli medical suppliers, whose drugs many New Yorkers rely on for survival. “Performative politics,” he said, “has no place in a taxpayer-funded public health agency.”All of this would matter less if it were playing out on the fringe, but the city’s response—whatever course it chooses—could ripple across the nation. Mamdani has only days to respond to Cassidy’s demands, clarifying how New York will balance the fight against antisemitism with a commitment to open debate about Israel. On paper, that’s a matter of policy briefings and interagency memos, but in reality it’s a collision of history, identity, fear, and trust.You don’t need to squint to see the crossroads ahead: What controls are enough to keep hate in check, and at what point do those controls start to police the public square itself? New York’s answer won’t just rest on a legal definition or a soundbite; it will rest on the willingness of its leaders—and its citizens—to confront uncomfortable truths and chart a path all their own, beneath the watchful gaze of both Washington and the communities they serve.