Mayor Mamdani Defies Senate, Risks $2.2B in Jewish School Protections

Paul Riverbank, 2/6/2026Mayor Mamdani axes antisemitism safeguards, risking $2.2B federal funds and igniting sharp citywide debate.

The impact was immediate. Senator Bill Cassidy, serving as chair of a powerful Senate committee, dispatched a strongly worded letter that landed on Mamdani’s desk like a thunderclap. Cassidy’s words pulled no punches: for millions in the city, antisemitism isn’t some problem in theory—it’s a lived experience, shadowing Jewish students and residents in classrooms and on street corners alike. And then there’s the looming threat of lost federal support—up to $2.2 billion could slip through the city’s fingers if it’s found lacking in protecting civil rights.

It all began, if you want to pinpoint a day, right when Mamdani was sworn in. Shortly after, he tossed out every Adams-era order lingering after the former mayor’s September indictment—sweeping away, among others, directives that had been designed to formally combat antisemitism and distance city agencies from the BDS movement. Particularly knotty is the city’s previous reliance on the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance definition, which remains a mainstay in government and educational policies around the globe.

Critics, not least those in Jewish advocacy circles, warn this rollback couldn’t have come at a more tense moment. Adams’ old Mayor’s Office to Combat Antisemitism—now gone—was meant to build walls against hate crimes and bias attacks. When a local survey polled Jewish voters this January, more than half said they felt genuinely on edge about statements coming from City Hall. “Decisions by your administration that weaken established safeguards for Jewish students… warrant careful scrutiny,” Cassidy pressed further in his note.

Mamdani, meanwhile, hasn’t backed away from his record. He speaks plainly about BDS and his longstanding opposition to what he describes as conflating criticism of Israel with hostility toward Jews. “I am someone who supports BDS and other lawful means of confronting Israeli state violence,” he recently told reporters. He’s held the line even as some in the city, and in Washington, worry the federal government might take a dim view of this distinction—and its practical effect on civil rights protections in school and public spaces.

In the midst of the outcry, Mamdani tapped Phylisa Wisdom as the new head for the Office to Combat Antisemitism—a choice that, if anything, fueled a fresh round of heated discussions. Wisdom’s résumé spans both progressive Zionist circles, where she’s known for rejecting BDS, and efforts at yeshiva reform. Her supporters emphasized her record as a builder of bridges; detractors feared her views and connections would only fray already thin trust among religious school advocates. Councilman Simcha Felder labelled the appointment “a shanda,” using a word that speaks volumes within the community. In his eyes, the office should offer real, concrete protections—not remain a gesture on paper.

Wisdom herself, showing the blend of diplomacy and directness she’s known for, struck a notably optimistic tone in her first public comments. The safety and sense of belonging for Jewish New Yorkers, she said, will remain “at the core” of how the administration shapes their policies. But for now, even her reassurances haven’t fully calmed wary community members or city insiders, many of whom sit tight, waiting for proof in action rather than promises.

Meanwhile, internal City Hall debate spilled over into other departments. At the Department of Health, a staff forum recently referenced “the ongoing genocide in Palestine”—going further than anything city workers were previously allowed to say under earlier, stricter guidelines about Middle East policy discussions. Mamdani’s team has indicated they’re leaning toward compliance-oriented, rather than punitive, responses—especially when it comes to religious schools missing certain benchmarks. Crucially, they’re not threatening to pull funds at this point, a notable change from prior approaches.

With federal dollars on the line, the stakes couldn’t be higher. The coming weeks will likely reveal whether the city can strike a delicate balance: meeting legal standards for civil rights while recalibrating its rhetoric and policy framework. Senator Cassidy awaits a reply. For New Yorkers—Jewish, Muslim, secular, and otherwise—the atmosphere in the city feels more finely tuned to the national debate on hate, free speech, and the ever-complicated question of where to draw civic lines. As City Hall drafts its response for Washington, eyes across the five boroughs—and perhaps well beyond—are watching to see what kind of future takes shape.

In New York's ever-turbulent political climate, sparks have started flying around City Hall—this time over a decision with big consequences for both public trust and the city’s bottom line. Mayor Zohran Mamdani, barely settled into office, wasted little time in taking a red pen to his predecessor's executive orders. The most controversial of the bunch? Those that dealt directly with antisemitism and city policy toward Israel.The impact was immediate. Senator Bill Cassidy, serving as chair of a powerful Senate committee, dispatched a strongly worded letter that landed on Mamdani’s desk like a thunderclap. Cassidy’s words pulled no punches: for millions in the city, antisemitism isn’t some problem in theory—it’s a lived experience, shadowing Jewish students and residents in classrooms and on street corners alike. And then there’s the looming threat of lost federal support—up to $2.2 billion could slip through the city’s fingers if it’s found lacking in protecting civil rights.It all began, if you want to pinpoint a day, right when Mamdani was sworn in. Shortly after, he tossed out every Adams-era order lingering after the former mayor’s September indictment—sweeping away, among others, directives that had been designed to formally combat antisemitism and distance city agencies from the BDS movement. Particularly knotty is the city’s previous reliance on the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance definition, which remains a mainstay in government and educational policies around the globe.Critics, not least those in Jewish advocacy circles, warn this rollback couldn’t have come at a more tense moment. Adams’ old Mayor’s Office to Combat Antisemitism—now gone—was meant to build walls against hate crimes and bias attacks. When a local survey polled Jewish voters this January, more than half said they felt genuinely on edge about statements coming from City Hall. “Decisions by your administration that weaken established safeguards for Jewish students… warrant careful scrutiny,” Cassidy pressed further in his note.Mamdani, meanwhile, hasn’t backed away from his record. He speaks plainly about BDS and his longstanding opposition to what he describes as conflating criticism of Israel with hostility toward Jews. “I am someone who supports BDS and other lawful means of confronting Israeli state violence,” he recently told reporters. He’s held the line even as some in the city, and in Washington, worry the federal government might take a dim view of this distinction—and its practical effect on civil rights protections in school and public spaces.In the midst of the outcry, Mamdani tapped Phylisa Wisdom as the new head for the Office to Combat Antisemitism—a choice that, if anything, fueled a fresh round of heated discussions. Wisdom’s résumé spans both progressive Zionist circles, where she’s known for rejecting BDS, and efforts at yeshiva reform. Her supporters emphasized her record as a builder of bridges; detractors feared her views and connections would only fray already thin trust among religious school advocates. Councilman Simcha Felder labelled the appointment “a shanda,” using a word that speaks volumes within the community. In his eyes, the office should offer real, concrete protections—not remain a gesture on paper.Wisdom herself, showing the blend of diplomacy and directness she’s known for, struck a notably optimistic tone in her first public comments. The safety and sense of belonging for Jewish New Yorkers, she said, will remain “at the core” of how the administration shapes their policies. But for now, even her reassurances haven’t fully calmed wary community members or city insiders, many of whom sit tight, waiting for proof in action rather than promises.Meanwhile, internal City Hall debate spilled over into other departments. At the Department of Health, a staff forum recently referenced “the ongoing genocide in Palestine”—going further than anything city workers were previously allowed to say under earlier, stricter guidelines about Middle East policy discussions. Mamdani’s team has indicated they’re leaning toward compliance-oriented, rather than punitive, responses—especially when it comes to religious schools missing certain benchmarks. Crucially, they’re not threatening to pull funds at this point, a notable change from prior approaches.With federal dollars on the line, the stakes couldn’t be higher. The coming weeks will likely reveal whether the city can strike a delicate balance: meeting legal standards for civil rights while recalibrating its rhetoric and policy framework. Senator Cassidy awaits a reply. For New Yorkers—Jewish, Muslim, secular, and otherwise—the atmosphere in the city feels more finely tuned to the national debate on hate, free speech, and the ever-complicated question of where to draw civic lines. As City Hall drafts its response for Washington, eyes across the five boroughs—and perhaps well beyond—are watching to see what kind of future takes shape.