Asian Diaspora Resonates with ‘Cool’ Zohran

Thousands of miles away, New York may have elected Zohran Mamdani (34) as its next mayor, but the movement around him stretches far beyond the five boroughs. For a generation of South Asian Americans — and increasingly, South Asians watching from afar — Mamdani has come to represent something unusually intimate: a political identity shaped as much by aesthetic and narrative as by policy.

The Cool Guy Wins

From Delhi to New York, the psychological resonance of Mamdani’s rise is being felt by those who see in him a reflection of themselves. Where earlier immigrant politics in the US were often framed around assimilation or cautious pragmatism, Mamdani’s campaign presented a different kind of belonging. His rallies had DJs. His volunteers designed multilingual posters that resembled gig flyers more than political leaflets. His block parties resembled community festivals and not campaign stops. His win, buoyed by a voting base of working-class immigrants, young voters, and New Yorkers long ignored by the city’s power structures, was felt as an emotional event in diasporic pockets across the world.

Cultural Roots

The campaign’s cultural language wasn’t built solely on spectacle. It was embedded in New York’s everyday life. In videos and graphics, the star was not the candidate but the city itself: subway platforms, halal carts, gyro shops, threading salons, the constant shuffle of working people negotiating a place that is always too expensive and yet too enticing to leave.

Arun Singh, a political observer from Mumbai, points out that Mamdani faced ‘racial’ and ‘radical’ slurs from his opponents, but he did not lose his cool. “Mamdani’s win actually represents a generational fight. His progressive views and values reflect those of a majority of young voters, not just from the US but across the world.

Young, educated voters are fed up with politicians who try to win elections based on religion and race. Young voters want jobs, a good lifestyle and progressive policies. He ticks all those boxes.” Mamdani’s aesthetic choices — the midnight blue Suitsupply suits he wore almost every day, his appearances across boroughs without breaking the visual rhythm, the uncluttered clarity of “fast, free buses” allowed him to stay lithe within the city’s varied social fabrics. “It feels radical, like someone who looks like us made it here.”

People Speak

Anveer Nishad Rahman, a postgraduate student from Assam studying English in Delhi, says, “Mamdani definitely represents something new, but young people should approach him with a grain of salt, reminding themselves that politicians serve their own career goals first.”

Still, Mamdani’s cultural fluency resonates — the multilingual memes, the Ugandan-Indian narratives, the moments where he burst into celebratory Bollywood songs after a win. “Some of it feels personal,” Rahman says. “You can tell it means something to him.” And yet, it also works strategically. “He can utilise the personal to feel universal.”

The Fluidity of Diaspora

Counselling psychologist Sanskriti Seth believes that the attraction to Mamdani is not merely political. It is psychological. She describes how migrants often experience a sense of affirmation when they see someone with a similar heritage rise to power in the West. In a city like New York, where immigrant confidence can fluctuate depending on the political climate, having someone “from similar roots” take office instils a sense of possibility.”

She cautions that idealising any leader comes with risks: “The more emotionally driven you are, the less logical you become.” Movements that lean heavily on aesthetics and community energy can meet emotional needs that traditional politics ignores. They create belonging and ease loneliness. They build a community around culture rather than ideology.

Seth argues that social media has created a hyper-visible political ecosystem. Mamdani’s supporters, loud and critical, may actually be well-positioned to question him if he disappoints them. Emotional investment can be double-edged, but digital publics can sharpen the edge.

The world has changed, and everyone is everywhere all the time. Professor Surinder Jodhka, who teaches sociology at JNU argues that traditional ideas of “first” and “second” generation migrants no longer capture today’s political and cultural realities. “In the last 15 years, the world has changed a lot,” he says. “The earlier narrative doesn’t seem to be working any longer, because everyone is everywhere all the time.”

He points to Mamdani’s campaign in New York as an example of how politicians now move across multiple cultural worlds. “When he goes to a gurdwara, he presents himself as a kind of half-Sikh, his mother is from Punjab, and he’s trained himself to behave like that,” Jodhka notes. “Likewise, when he goes to Muslims, he’s obviously identifying with them in a particular manner.” Communities themselves, he added, are shifting: “They are not just being in India or being in diaspora, but being everywhere.”

Migration and social media have strengthened these networks. “When you’re talking about Muslims in New York, it is not just Muslims, there are a variety of Muslims, and each category will have thousands of members.” Gurdwaras, too, “connect with Sikhs in the USA, the Western world, India — Sikhs generally.” Because of this, he believes nativist rhetoric has limited longevity. “This Trump argument of migrants and natives will eventually have limited purchase,” he says. “It’s their hyper-reaction to the change they are not able to make sense of.”

On Mamdani’s political style, Jodhka describes it as “futuristic.” “He is not defensive about being socialist, Muslim, South Asian, young, or about his gender.” This reflects a larger truth: “The world belongs to everyone,” and while differences remain, “that doesn’t mean we don’t have any common ground.” “Bolly-wood gets attention — but what made people stay was the conversation.”

Tushnim Yuvraj, a student who moved to New York about a year and a half ago believes that Mamdani’s campaign worked because it fused style with substance. The Bollywood references and diasporic stories were “embellishment,” he says. Clever marketing that helped him stand out in a city tired of sterile political performances. But what mattered, ultimately, were his policies. The cultural elements brought people in; the political commitments kept them there.

The Common Man

Part of Mamdani’s resonance comes from how he embodies intersection. He opens like a Swiss knife, able to fit into different worlds without seeming disingenuous. That fluidity is something many diasporic people recognise in themselves. Identities shift depending on who’s asking. Politics shifts depending on who’s watching.