What does it mean to swear in a city’s highest office on a text outside of the Christian tradition? For Zohran Mamdani, who was sworn in as the new mayor of New York City, the answer lay in a deeply personal, historically resonant choice: On January 1, Mamdani became the city’s very first Muslim mayor. He took his oath on two Qurans-one belonging to his grandfather and the other once owned by Arturo Schomburg, the Black Puerto Rican historian whose work chronicled the global contributions of people of African descent.
The ceremony unfolded with deliberate symbolism. The Qurans were not ornate ceremonial showpieces but volumes designed for everyday use-their modest bindings and plain script speaking more to accessibility than grandeur. Dating to the late 18th or early 19th century, the Schomburg copy was the product of Ottoman Syria and had originally been placed at the New York Public Library’s Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture. In remarks, the library’s curator for Middle Eastern and Islamic Studies, Hiba Abid, called the book “a Quran close to the people, not only because of its simple craftsmanship, but also because it is part of the collections of the nation’s largest public library system”.
Mamdani’s decision to foreground his identity as a Muslim ran counter to advice he said he had gotten to play down his faith in public life. In the campaign and now in office, he has spurned that counsel. “I will not change who I am, how I eat, or the faith that I’m proud to call my own,” he said during the race. His coalition drew significant support among Muslim and South Asian communities, many of whom viewed his victory as a breakthrough for representation in the nation’s most populous city.
It was an inauguration that began with a prayer from Imam Khalid Latif, executive director of the Islamic Center of New York City, and a chaplain with the NYPD. And in Latif’s invocation, it was plain to hear a vision of governance based on compassion and equity: “Never let him forget that this office exists to serve the people, not to rise above them… Let policy be shaped by compassion and budgets reflective of our values.”
But Mamdani’s embrace of his faith has also made him a target. Prominent conservatives, including Rep. Elise Stefanik, have falsely branded him a “jihadist,” and far-right figures like Laura Loomer have warned of “sharia law” coming to New York. U.S. Sen. Tommy Tuberville posted, “The enemy is inside the gates” upon learning Mamdani had used a Quran for his oath. The attacks reflect a broader national trend: according to the Council on American-Islamic Relations, anti-Muslim and anti-Palestinian incidents rose about 70% in the first half of 2024, with hate crimes, employment discrimination and harassment spiking amid the war in Gaza.
The attack on Mamdani has alternated between criticism of the professor for his outspoken stance in defense of Palestinian rights and the use of the word “genocide” to describe Israel’s actions in Gaza. Critics have pounced on his unwillingness to condemn the activist slogan “globalize the intifada” as antisemitism despite declaring that “there is no room for antisemitism in this city, in this country.” This conjunction of political disagreement on Middle East policy with Islamophobic rhetoric has aggravated the attacks on him.
Such targeting is not without precedent. In 2006, Rep. Keith Ellison, the first Muslim elected to Congress, similarly faced condemnation for using a Quran in his ceremonial oath. Today, Mamdani’s choice has prompted renewed debate over religious freedom in public office. Most American politicians take oaths on Bibles, but there is no legal requirement to use any religious text, and the Constitution explicitly forbids religious tests for public office. For supporters, the symbolism of the Qurans—one a family heirloom, the other a manuscript tied to Black intellectual history embodies a layered narrative of New York itself: immigrant journeys, interwoven cultures, and the assertion of minority identities in civic life. Anthony W. Marx, president of the New York Public Library, referred to the selection as “a greater story of inclusion, representation, and civic-mindedness.”
The Qurans will be put on public view at the library, giving New Yorkers a chance to engage with the texts outside of the moment of inauguration. In a climate in which Islamophobia is still “baked into American society,” as CAIR’s Corey Saylor put it, the visibility of such artifacts in civic rituals challenges entrenched norms. For Mamdani, the act of swearing in on them was not only a personal declaration but a public statement-one that insists faith and public service need not be hidden from one another.
