Stephen King has never been one to hold his tongue — and when he saw the wave of racist backlash against New York City’s newly elected mayor, Zohran Mamdani, he didn’t hesitate to fire back. The legendary author of The Shining and It used his trademark bluntness to call out the ignorance and bigotry flooding social media in the wake of Mamdani’s historic victory.
The controversy began shortly after Mamdani, a 34-year-old Democratic Socialist and state assemblyman from Queens, made history by becoming New York City’s first Muslim mayor. Winning 50.4 percent of the vote, he defeated former governor Andrew Cuomo in a landmark election that captured national attention. To many New Yorkers, it was a breakthrough moment — the culmination of a grassroots campaign powered by working-class neighborhoods, immigrant communities, and young progressives who felt left behind by the city’s establishment politics.
But not everyone was celebrating. Within hours of the results being announced, social media was flooded with racist attacks targeting Mamdani’s faith and background. His critics fixated not on his policies or platform but on his religion — using Islamophobic rhetoric that many thought belonged to another era.
One particularly vile post on X (formerly Twitter) went viral. It showed an image of the burning Twin Towers during the 9/11 terrorist attacks, captioned with: “How the hell does the city that experienced the biggest Islamic terrorist attack in history vote for a Muslim mayor?” The implication was clear — that a Muslim leader, regardless of who he is or what he believes, could never be trusted to lead a city still haunted by that tragedy.
That’s when Stephen King stepped in. Sharing the post on his own account, the best-selling author added a single, cutting line: “Um, he didn’t do it. He was 10 at the time.”
It was the kind of succinct, surgical response King has perfected over decades — sharp enough to draw blood, but grounded in basic truth. His comment quickly went viral, with tens of thousands of users praising him for saying what needed to be said. “Sickening how people use tragedy as a weapon for hate,” one commenter wrote. Another added, “It’s like blaming every Christian for the Oklahoma City bombing — completely absurd.”
Others echoed King’s point, reminding people that bigotry disguised as “concern” is still bigotry. “People vote on his record and policies,” one person wrote, “not on racist generalizations.” Another noted, “I couldn’t care less that he’s Muslim — he’s a New Yorker, he’s qualified, and he’s earned this.”
King’s comment may have been brief, but it highlighted a deeper issue: two decades after 9/11, Islamophobia still lingers in America’s political bloodstream. The fear and suspicion directed at Mamdani aren’t isolated incidents — they’re part of a pattern of prejudice that resurfaces whenever a Muslim public figure achieves visibility or power.
Mamdani, for his part, didn’t shy away from addressing the attacks. In his victory speech, delivered before a jubilant crowd in Brooklyn, he leaned directly into the controversy. “I am Muslim. I am a Democratic Socialist. And most damning of all, I refuse to apologize for any of this,” he declared to roaring applause. “If tonight teaches us anything, it is that convention has held us back. We have bowed at the altar of caution — and we have paid a mighty price.”
The speech was unapologetically defiant — a statement not just of identity but of purpose. Mamdani made it clear that his campaign had never been about playing safe or staying silent to appease critics. “Too many working people cannot recognize themselves in our party,” he said, calling out the establishment Democrats who, in his view, have grown disconnected from the struggles of ordinary New Yorkers. “Too many among us have turned to the right for answers as to why they have been left behind. We will leave mediocrity in our past. No longer will we have to open a history book for proof that Democrats can dare to be great.”
It was the kind of speech that signaled not just a new administration but a shift in tone — one rooted in conviction, not compromise.
But while Mamdani spoke about unity and progress, the online vitriol persisted. Conservative commentators and political figures accused him of harboring “radical sympathies” and “anti-American views,” despite no evidence to support either claim. The attacks echoed the same tactics used against Muslim politicians like Ilhan Omar and Rashida Tlaib — efforts to tie faith to extremism in order to delegitimize public service.
For many observers, the fact that such rhetoric still thrives in 2025 is a stark reminder of how fragile social progress can be. King’s intervention, then, wasn’t just a celebrity soundbite — it was a small but significant act of decency in a climate poisoned by misinformation and fearmongering.
Mamdani’s supporters, meanwhile, have rallied behind him. Community organizers, local faith leaders, and fellow lawmakers have condemned the hate campaign and praised his resilience. “He’s the son of immigrants, a lifelong New Yorker, and a fighter for working people,” said one supporter at his victory rally. “If that scares people, maybe it’s time they look at what kind of city they really want to live in.”
The symbolism of Mamdani’s win cannot be overstated. The city that once bore the deepest scars of anti-Muslim sentiment has now elected a Muslim mayor — not as an act of tokenism or rebellion, but through the democratic process. For many, it’s proof that New York can still live up to its promise as a city of inclusion, even in the face of hate.
Stephen King’s tweet may have been just a few words, but it captured a truth that should be obvious: a person’s faith does not define their morality or competence. As one commenter succinctly put it under King’s post, “We’ve spent too long letting fear dictate who deserves to lead. It’s time we start letting character decide that instead.”
For Mamdani, the challenge ahead is enormous. He takes office amid a city struggling with housing costs, economic inequality, and political division. Yet, for all the hostility he’s faced, his message remains focused on the work — not the noise. “We have a city to rebuild,” he said in closing his speech. “A city that belongs to all of us — no matter our faith, our background, or our bank balance.”
As the dust settles, Stephen King’s words continue to circulate online, serving as a simple reminder of how irrational prejudice can be. “He didn’t do it,” King wrote — a sentence so obvious it’s almost absurd it needed to be said. But in today’s climate, sometimes stating the obvious is an act of courage.
In the end, King’s defense of Mamdani wasn’t just about one man or one election. It was about the broader fight against ignorance — the same kind of darkness King has spent his career writing about. And just like in his novels, the real monsters aren’t supernatural. They’re the ones that hide in plain sight, feeding on fear until someone dares to shine a light.