Trump and Socialist Mayor’s Secret Texts Shock City Hall and Nation

If you’d told a roomful of hardbitten New York political insiders, even a year ago, that the city’s Democratic Socialist mayor and Donald Trump would be exchanging chirpy text messages, you might have been laughed out of town. But these days, that’s reality. According to sources closely watching City Hall, Mayor Zohran Mamdani and President Trump text each other as regularly as colleagues—not a monthly formality, but several times a week. No aides, no PR choreography. Just two political heavyweights exchanging notes. “Friendly” is the word that keeps coming up, but the surprise hasn’t quite faded for those in the know.

Why the unlikely chemistry? For starters, it’s a sharp departure from what New Yorkers grew used to under the last few mayors. Press conferences with veiled (and not-so-veiled) swipes. Back-channel negotiations scuttled by mutual mistrust. Even Eric Adams, who almost seemed to bend over backwards to cooperate with Trump, could barely get a message past the Secret Service. Yet here we are: with Mamdani, the phone buzzes; the screen lights up.

“Let’s be honest—these aren’t love letters,” one seasoned strategist shrugged, waving off suggestions that ideology might play much of a role. “Any mayor needs to hedge when federal funding hangs in the balance. If smoothing things over means being cordial with the president, you make it happen, even if you risk ruffling some feathers back home.”

One imagines the conversations themselves are far from bland. Take Venezuela, for one: when Trump moved to topple Nicolás Maduro, Mamdani came out swinging—“an act of war,” he declared on social media, while Trump stuck to his script about defending democracy. What’s striking is that, even on issues where sparks fly (as they inevitably do), the texts don’t grind to a halt.

Andrew Kirtzman, who heads KSX Communications and has seen more mayors than most, calls the rapport “remarkable.” In his words: “Trump had no time for de Blasio. Maybe it left him feeling adrift, personally. Mamdani is a world apart in politics, but Trump seems to genuinely like the guy. If you’re Mamdani, that’s got to feel surreal, but you never turn down a hotline to the White House."

For Mamdani’s base, though, the arrangement is a minefield. The Democratic Socialists of America count him as one of their own—a source of pride and, now, occasional anxiety. Some younger organizers say, only half-jokingly, that hearing the mayor gets on with the president is “like watching your favorite punk band take a selfie with Walmart’s CEO.” Still, pragmatism tends to win out. City politicos speculate the mayor’s embrace of realpolitik hasn’t diluted his platform: universal free bus rides, a city-funded childcare web, ambitious rent control, and—most provocatively—taxes on both the ultra-wealthy and major corporations.

Critics are quick with counterpoints: “Go ahead and make the buses free, but don’t expect them to arrive on time.” The concern is always that swelling demand will turn subways and buses into slow-moving, overcrowded corridors. Proposals for universal childcare and bold rent freezes raise similar alarms: ideal on a flyer, but, in practice, prone to fiscal headaches that dog even the Nordic countries Mamdani cites as inspiration. Denmark and Sweden, by the way, have spent recent years untangling themselves from the very wealth taxes held up as a model.

Mamdani, for his part, rarely shies away from putting his skepticism of big money on the record. “I don’t think we should have billionaires,” he said—an oddly refreshing (and jarring, depending who you ask) note in a city that’s long thrived on ambition and enterprise. Property developers exchange anxious glances these days, and the city’s much-maligned tax rates seem poised to rise again. Any shortfall on the wish list? Experts say the middle class—never shy of shouldering the tab—best brace itself.

So the texts keep flying. If you listen in on city gossip, you sense a new era: less of the elaborate handshake diplomacy, more candid deal-brokering. The change is jarring, but whether it’s lasting or simply a passing oddity is anyone’s guess. Those inclined toward skepticism dismiss it as window dressing. Even within City Hall, aides wonder aloud: Will this digital détente outlast the next news cycle, or erupt at the first disagreement over funding?

No matter how the story shakes out, the traditional choreography of mayoral-presidential relations has been unceremoniously tossed aside. What’s left is more improvisational—a steady, unfiltered back-and-forth, carried out with the city’s interests (or at least its budget) visibly at stake. For New Yorkers, that means one thing: a front-row seat as old alliances dissolve, locker-room texts replace stage-managed hearings, and city and federal interests—the odd couple of American politics—navigate the rocky road ahead, one message at a time.