I write these words not as a spectator of history, but as someone who has lived at the edge of consequence—where rhetoric becomes reality and cowardice disguises itself as compassion. In 2026, the world is watching two very different crowds raise their voices. One stands in the streets of Tehran, Shiraz, and Isfahan with nothing but their bodies between tyranny and tomorrow. The other blocks intersections in Kew Garden Hills while a mayor smiles nervously and offers appeasement as if weakness were a virtue. These are not parallel movements. They are moral opposites.
In Iran, men and women are fighting an ancient evil wearing a modern mask. They are fighting clerics who stole a nation and wrapped repression in scripture. They are fighting a system that murders girls for showing hair and jails sons for speaking truth. These Iranians are not confused. They know exactly who their enemy is: the ayatollahs, the Revolutionary Guard, the ideology that worships death and calls it piety. When these people march, they do not ask for comfort. They ask for freedom. And they know the price.
Contrast that with New York City, where the mayor, Zorhan Madani, chooses appeasement over principle. In Kew Garden Hills—a Jewish neighborhood that knows the weight of history and the cost of silence—pro-Hamas protestors chant, “Say it loud, say it clear, we support Hamas here,” alongside slogans soaked in blood and ignorance. They do not risk their lives. They risk traffic delays. They do not face firing squads. They face police escorts. And instead of drawing a firm line, the mayor bends. He appeases. He indulges. He treats extremism as a misunderstood grievance.
This is where leadership either rises or collapses. In Iran, leadership is being born in the streets—by women cutting their hair, by students tearing down portraits, by workers striking despite the threat of execution. In New York, leadership is being buried under platitudes and press releases. The mayor tells us that dialogue is needed, that feelings must be respected, that tensions must be managed. What he really means is that he would rather not offend the loudest radicals in the room.
Let me be clear. There is nothing progressive about chanting for an organization that kidnaps children, rapes women, and hides behind civilians. There is nothing courageous about intimidating Jewish families in their own neighborhoods while City Hall looks the other way. And there is nothing compassionate about equating genocidal ideology with legitimate protest. That is not balance. That is surrender.
The Iranian revolutionaries of 2026 understand something our political class in America seems desperate to forget. Evil does not negotiate in good faith. Tyranny does not soften when you offer it understanding. The ayatollahs stayed in power for decades because too many Western leaders chose engagement over confrontation and nuance over truth. Now the Iranian people are paying the bill in blood. Yet they still stand. That is courage.
What do we call it when a mayor appeases pro-Hamas protestors in a city built by immigrants who fled pogroms, camps, and dictatorships? We call it moral bankruptcy. We call it a failure to distinguish between protest and intimidation. We call it leadership that has lost its spine.
I have been accused of many things in my life—some fair, some absurd—but no one can accuse me of not recognizing the moment when clarity is required. This is one of those moments. Either you stand with people who fight for freedom, or you coddle those who cheer for terror. You cannot do both. History will not allow it. The Iranian students tearing down regime banners are not asking for our permission. They are asking whether the free world still believes in itself.
In Kew Garden Hills, Jewish parents walk their children past police barricades while chants glorify violence against their relatives overseas. And the mayor tells them to remain calm. He tells them this is the price of democracy. That is a lie. Democracy does not require tolerating calls for terrorism and jihad. Democracy requires defending minorities when mobs gather.
The contrast could not be sharper. In Iran, the people chant “death to the dictator,” knowing the dictator might answer with bullets. In New York, the protestors chant slogans they barely understand, knowing City Hall will protect them. One movement risks everything to end theocracy. The other exploits freedom to excuse fanaticism.
I know the political incentives at play. I know the donor classes, the activist pressures, the fear of being labeled intolerant. But leadership is not about avoiding labels. It is about choosing sides when the choice is uncomfortable. Zorhan Mamdani chose the easy path. He chose appeasement dressed up as inclusivity. And in doing so, he betrayed the very values New York claims to represent.
Iranian women burning hijabs are not asking for safe spaces. They are creating liberated ones. Iranian men facing tanks with empty hands are not asking for mediation. They are demanding the end of a regime. These are the people who deserve our solidarity—not the protestors who turn American streets into theaters of hate while pretending it is justice.
The lesson of 2026 is brutal and simple. Freedom fighters look nothing like appeasers. Courage does not wear a mayoral sash and issue vague statements. Courage bleeds. Courage sacrifices. Courage names the enemy.
New York once understood this. After September 11, 2001, this city did not equivocate about terror. It did not host dialogues with extremists. It stood firm. Somewhere along the way, our leaders forgot. Or worse, they remembered and chose differently.
The Iranian revolution will be written in history books whether it succeeds or is crushed. The question is how America will be written alongside it—as a beacon that spoke clearly, or as a decadent society too afraid to offend radicals in its own backyard.
Zorhan Madani will say he was keeping the peace. History will say he kept his job while others lost their lives. The Iranian people will say they stood when it mattered. And they will be right.
There are moments when politics ends and morality begins. This is one of them. Stand with those who fight tyranny—or step aside and let history judge you for appeasing it.