A breach at the ballot box: Muslim representation, Gaza, and the (un)rising right

A year ago, Mamdani's victory in New York and now Abdul El-Sayed's election to the Senate are certainly remarkable developments for Muslims in America and those who support Palestine. Furthermore, in the US midterm elections held last week, Muslim candidates achieved historic success at both federal and local levels. While a record number of at least 7 Muslim representatives were elected to the US Congress (Senate and House of Representatives), a total of at least 97 Muslim candidates won elections across various levels of government throughout America. At least 38 Muslim candidates were elected to state-level local legislatures (Senate and House of Representatives).

Muslim candidates declared victory in at least 21 different states, including New York, New Jersey, Connecticut, Delaware, Pennsylvania, Georgia, Texas, North Carolina, Colorado, Illinois, Ohio, and Michigan. This is the success recorded by Muslims in these US elections. However, when we look at the specter of Gaza hanging over the ballot boxes, the presence of numerous non-Muslim Democratic politicians who took a stand against Israel due to the genocide in Gaza illustrates the depth of the change in the US much better. Salman Sayyid evaluated Mamdani’s election as Mayor of New York not merely as the victory of a single candidate, but in terms of the possibility for Muslims to become political subjects and the global meaning of Palestine.

This approach enables us to see the symbolic aspect of the election results. Being able to build a broad voter coalition without hiding one's Muslim identity, without withdrawing support for Palestine, and by addressing daily needs such as housing, transportation, healthcare services, and childcare is important. Both El-Sayed's success and that of other Muslim candidates point to the fact that this possibility is not limited to a single city. Nevertheless, symbolic success should not be confused with political power. The powers of a mayor are not the same as those of the federal government and Congress.

Nor is the influence of a representative elected to the Senate sufficient on its own to alter the country's foreign policy. The US relationship with Israel relies on strategic, military, economic, and institutional ties far more deeply rooted than the attitudes of candidates who come to the fore during election periods. A shift in the majority in Congress may affect the way these relationships are debated; however, it would be unrealistic to assume that it will quickly reverse Washington’s established preferences. In other words, these election results do not mean that the mechanisms of power in the US have been completely transformed. The ballot box can open the door to politics, but it does not automatically change the institutions, vested interests, and decision-making habits behind that door.

The warning Salman Sayyid made while writing about Zohran Mamdani’s New York victory is now valid for this new electoral picture as well: The promise of change can be adapted during the governance phase to the technocratic language and boundaries of the existing order. The decisive test for Mamdani’s mayoralty, Abdul El-Sayed’s politics in the Senate, and the Democrats’ majority in Congress will be the ability to transform the symbolic power of election night into lasting social support and concrete policies. The horizon opened by Sayyid in his article on tezkire.net with the quote "First we take Manhattan" now extends from one city to other cities, states, and federal politics.

What is at issue here is not a single identity taking power, but the claim of communities long pushed to the margins of politics to have a say in issues that determine the common life of everyone. The power of this claim stems not only from representing the unrepresented, but also from bringing the demand for representation together with shared problems such as housing, healthcare, wages, transportation, and the cost of living. However, the coalition built during the election does not automatically sustain itself in governance. The language of justice, equality, and change that brings different groups together during the campaign can narrow when confronted with budget constraints, bureaucratic resistance, capital pressure, and intra-party calculations.

This test belongs not only to Mamdani and al-Sayyid. Whether the social support formed around them can remain organized, continuous, and demanding will also be decisive. Alliances forged during election periods must be able to listen to one another even after the polls close; they must be capable of keeping the demands of different communities within a shared political program. Otherwise, representation is reduced to a few symbolic achievements, and the demand for change becomes neutralized within the language of institutions. On the other hand, I find the recent election landscape in the US crucial in terms of demonstrating the sociological limits of the 'rising right' narrative that is thought to have dominated the world in recent years.

Right-wing populism did not rise solely through the success of specific leaders. Economic insecurity, rapid social change, the fear of status loss, and distrust toward established political institutions laid the groundwork for this rise. Politics that scapegoated immigrants, minorities, and external enemies offered easy explanations for complex problems; it brought different segments of society together through promises of national pride and greatness restored. However, when these promises hit the real test of power in both the US and Europe, it seems inevitable that the gap between mobilizing anger and improving lives will be laid bare.

It is becoming clear that blaming immigrants does not lower rents, just as culture wars do not facilitate access to healthcare; nor does projecting power abroad raise wages or purchasing power at home. Moreover, war and economic tension return directly as costs to the daily lives of voters. Thus, an understanding that considers insensitivity toward the problems of others as political power becomes incapable of solving even the livelihood struggles of its own society. The sudden decline of the rising right, therefore, cannot be explained merely by voters changing their minds.

Behind this decline lies the growing distance between the promises made and the lives people actually live. However, the decline of right-wing populism does not mean its permanent disappearance. The inequalities, insecurities, and representation voids that feed it persist. In fact, an administration that fails to produce solutions to these problems might reorganize anger in a harsher manner. Therefore, the issue is not to declare the fall of the right, but rather to ask which social demands will find a lasting response in the political space opened by this decline. The issue of Gaza and Palestine lies at the very center of this new horizon.

In Sayyid’s analysis, Palestine transcended the topic of foreign policy and connected to questions of who can speak, whose suffering will be recognized, and which communities will be accepted as political subjects. The success of Mamdani and al-Sayyid lies in their ability to open a broader discussion on shared life without pushing these questions off the agenda. Support for Palestine does not replace economic justice or everyday issues; it brings people’s moral objections together with demands for livelihood and representation on the same political ground. A breach at the ballot box alone does not establish a new order.

However, it shows that society can change the political options presented to it. For these signs stretching from Manhattan to Michigan and to Congress to turn into a lasting horizon depends on supporting symbolic victories with organized social will. The main question now is not merely who gets elected, but which demands will remain at the center of politics after the election.