Andrew Cuomo is not expected to be an effective mayor.
In the narrative arc of New York politics, few figures have stirred as much contention as Andrew Cuomo. The former governor’s approach to leadership, reminiscent of a classic New York tale, prompts significant debate: is it better to be loved or feared? This inquiry into the nature of political power is particularly relevant as Cuomo seeks to redefine his role in the city, often drawing from a philosophy that emphasizes the latter.
For nearly five decades, Cuomo’s tenure has been marked by an aggressive style often described as “get along or kill.” This mindset has led many to question the effectiveness of his leadership and his suitability for the role of mayor. Those within Cuomo’s past circle—including advisors and colleagues—often express frustration at the atmosphere of fear he cultivates, which stifles dissent and discourages open dialogue.
Cuomo’s claims of experience as a unique qualification to address the challenges facing New York City are met with skepticism. Public perception is laden with accounts of bullying behavior, a toxic work environment, and scandals that marred his time in office. The often-touted charisma that initially positioned him as a leading figure during the COVID-19 pandemic gradually revealed a darker side. His actions, particularly the infamous decision to direct COVID-positive individuals into nursing homes, sparked outrage and raised serious ethical questions. This decision, compounded by attempts to conceal the full impact of the virus on vulnerable populations, resulted in allegations of deliberate misinformation regarding death counts.
Furthermore, Cuomo’s governance bore the hallmarks of prioritizing personal vendettas over public health. As the pandemic escalated, his public disputes with Mayor Bill de Blasio increasingly overshadowed collaborative efforts. For instance, Cuomo initially dismissed de Blasio’s calls for stringent lockdown measures, only to later implement a similar directive, prioritizing his political image over timely action.
The former governor’s fixation on image extended beyond public health into the vaccine distribution process. Reports indicated that Cuomo sought political allegiance from locality officials as a condition for vital vaccine access, demonstrating a leveraging of power that aligns with a transactional political philosophy.
Moreover, Cuomo’s term was not devoid of scandal; operatives within his administration were embroiled in allegations of corruption and graft, which ultimately culminated in criminal charges against high-ranking aides. Despite creating an ethics commission meant to cleanse Albany’s reputation, Cuomo dismantled it when investigations began inching toward his own conduct.
The looming question as New Yorkers head to the polls is whether they desire leadership rooted in fear—a hallmark of Cuomo’s governance—or a vision anchored in community solidarity and love for the city. Upcoming electoral choices clarify this dichotomy, as candidates embodying contrasting approaches vie for the opportunity to lead. Zohran Mamdani, for instance, is positioned as a representative of a movement aiming to foster unity and hope, offering a stark contrast to Cuomo’s history of divisive politics.
As New Yorkers prepare to speak at the ballot box, the implications of Cuomo’s legacy linger heavily. Ultimately, the question remains: in a city striving for renewal and connection, is it more advantageous to be loved than feared? The pathway forward may depend on the answer New Yorkers choose to embrace in the coming election.
