New York City’s mayoral election and Virginia’s lieutenant governor contest have become test cases of a generational shift in US politics – one in which South Asian and Muslim Americans are not just voters, but rising leaders. In New York, 34-year-old Zohran Mamdani, a Ugandan-born son of Indian-Muslim parents who grew up in Queens, leads the Democratic field by double digits in most polls. The executive in Virginia’s bid for lieutenant governor, State Sen. Ghazala Hashmi, a Muslim Indian-born American, similarly holds a narrow edge in recent surveys. In both states, community mobilisation among younger, diverse voters – including Pakistani-Americans, South Asians and Muslims – is seen as decisive. Pakistani-American leaders are urging turnout: Ghulam Mustafa of Pakistan Overseas Forum notes that “NYC has always proven that they love talented people and race does not matter to them. Across New York’s working-class neighbourhoods, there’s a quiet sense of vindication at Zohran’s rise–a calm hopefulness absent in the marble offices of bureaucrats, Wall Street’s financiers and the President’s inner sanctum.” Community activists in New York are similarly pressing Pakistani and other Muslim voters to go to the polls in force, so much so that a group of Pakistani and Bangladeshi women even composed an election jingle for him, emphasising, “You’re not relevant in Pakistani political culture until you have your own song.”
Mamdani is indeed a headline-grabber who built a grassroots campaign on housing and inequality. He campaigned on radical?style policies – rent freezes, fare-free buses, universal childcare and community-owned grocery stores – arguing that “working people [are] being pushed out of the city they built.”
A series of viral TikTok videos helped him connect those ideas to voters: for example, one ad shows Mamdani jogging the New York City Marathon while quipping that “Eric Adams has raised the rent 9%, the most since a Republican was in city hall.” Polls show Mamdani consistently winning around 40-50% support, well ahead of veteran Democrat Andrew Cuomo, who hovers in the low 30s (e.g. a Beacon poll found Mamdani 47% vs. Cuomo 31%). Another Suffolk University survey (November 1) put Mamdani at 44% to Cuomo’s 34%. Even so, analysts note the race is volatile, with recent polls showing Cuomo narrowing the gap – and that much depends on turnout.
Mamdani’s Democratic socialism and immigrant background have made him both a symbol of change and a target. He would be New York’s first Muslim and South Asian mayor and, at 34, its youngest in a century. Conservative critics and some moderates charge that his ideas and stances (particularly on Israel-Palestine) are too radical. President Trump has derided him as a “communist” and falsely hinted at noncitizenship, while even the Republican guardian of the subways, Curtis Sliwa, remains in the race as a potential spoiler. In response, Mamdani has leaned into broad appeals: addressing an October 24 rally at a Bronx mosque, he reminded listeners of the Islamophobia he’s faced. “Growing up in the shadow of 9/11, I have known what it means to live with an undercurrent of suspicion in this city,” he exclaimed, urging unity. In a speech decrying anti-Muslim rhetoric, he warned New Yorkers to say “goodbye to anti-Muslim sentiment that has grown so endemic in our city.”
At the same time, Mamdani’s campaign energises long-dormant communities. Nonwhite, immigrant and working-class groups have flocked to his camp. Organisers note that early voting in New York has shattered records (over 584,000 ballots cast by late October vs. ~109,000 at the same point in 2021). Young voters under 50 – who make up almost 70% of early ballots – overwhelmingly favour Mamdani. In an interview, New York professor Youssef Chouhoud, an expert on Muslim American politics, observed: “We are stepping into leadership roles that challenge longstanding assumptions about who can represent the city of New York and Americans more broadly.” Pakistani-Americans, in particular, have taken notice. Mamdani himself has made direct appeals. In a resurfaced campaign speech, he told Pakistani Americans that “for too long, the story of Pakistanis has been told by others it’s time Pakistanis tell their own stories.”
Across the Hudson River, Virginia’s elections are delivering a parallel narrative. State Sen Ghazala Hashmi’s candidacy as Democratic nominee for lieutenant governor marks another first: she could be the first Muslim and first South Asian American to win statewide office in Virginia. Polls show her in a tight contest with Republican John Reid. Virginia voters have also been casting ballots early in record numbers (over 1.6 million by late October), and young Democrats there seem motivated by diversity and equality issues. Hashmi emphasises her record on education and equity rather than identity. As she told supporters, her campaign is “about ensuring opportunity and equity for every Virginian where everyone, regardless of background, has a fair shot.” She downplays religious emphasis, focusing on issues. But opponents have sought to link her to Mamdani’s brand of politics – an attack her allies say is “lazy and Islamophobic” State Sen. Saddam Azlan Salim, himself Muslim, noted “you’re going to get attacked for your name and religion” if you run in 2025.”
White and South Asian-American voices alike are recognising the larger import. Virginia’s Hashmi has earned endorsements from influential local figures, including Indian-American members of Congress and community leaders, as support coalesces. It would do well to remember that under normal circumstances, Hashmi’s success would have been an exciting development in representational diversity, what the immigrants love to recall as The American Dream. But, as noted by Rutgers law professor Sahar Aziz, “these are not normal circumstances,” given the backlash Muslim candidates often face. In New York, meanwhile, Mamdani’s rise inspired broad excitement even beyond Asians: a grassroots group in Brooklyn called Drum Beats helped double turnout among Indo-Caribbean and South Asian neighbourhoods.
If Mamdani prevails, it will underscore a leftward shift among Democratic voters and a new model of city politics grounded in community organising. If Hashmi wins, it will reaffirm the growing electoral clout of Asian and Muslim voters in a swing state. Pakistani-Americans and other immigrant communities are watching closely, not just as identity groups but as kingmakers in tight races. Senior Advisor at The Atlantic Council and a celebrated author and columnist, Harlan Ullman, is not so hopeful about the overall effect. “No matter who wins in New York and Virginia, it is the 2026 elections that count. When insurance goes up and SNAP is not fully funded, Trump’s ratings will sink. By year’s end, he could be down to 30% approval or lower if we bungle into a war with Venezuela.”
Nevertheless, whether these insurgent campaigns can translate into governing coalitions remains to be seen. Mamdani’s ambitious promises and Hashmi’s progressive path must weather general election scrutiny. But for now, their stories–sons and daughters of immigrants running for the highest offices in their cities–symbolise a broader reimagining of American politics.
“We’re not divided on those lines of bigotry,” Hashmi told voters, envisioning a more inclusive Virginia. And Mamdani’s creed, echoing Mandela, resonates: “It always seems impossible until it is done,” he said, heralding his unlikely rise. In this election moment, polls and participation suggest it might just be done.