The mayor who didn’t march

New York is a city of parades. It does not merely tolerate them; it is partly defined by them. Fifth Avenue, Broadway, Madison Avenue, Queens, Brooklyn, Harlem, Staten Island and the Bronx all become, at different moments of the year, stages upon which communities tell the city who they are.

There is the St Patrick’s Day Parade, among the oldest and largest in the world. There is the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, watched by millions and woven into the mythology of American childhood. There is the Puerto Rican Day Parade, the West Indian American Day Carnival, the Dominican Day Parade, the Columbus Day Parade, the Lunar New Year Parade, the Pride March, the Veterans Day Parade, the Halloween Parade, the Mermaid Parade and many more. Some are vast. Some are local. Some are patriotic. Some are cultural. Some are religious. Some are political. Together, they form a moving map of New York’s astonishing diversity.

That is why the recent Israel Day Parade mattered.

Mayor Zohran Mamdani’s decision to boycott the parade was not a small scheduling choice. It was a break with tradition, and a pointed one. New York mayors have long understood that parades are not simply endorsements of every policy position held by every participant. They are civic gestures. They are moments when the city’s leader says to a community: you belong here; your story is part of our story; your safety and dignity matter.

A mayor can disagree with the Israeli government. Many Israelis do. Many Jews do. Many thoughtful people do. But the Israel Day Parade is not merely a referendum on the policies of a government in Jerusalem. For many Jewish New Yorkers, it is a public affirmation of identity, continuity and resilience. It is a day when children from Jewish schools, synagogues, youth groups, civic organisations, survivors, families, allies and friends walk proudly in a city that contains one of the largest Jewish populations in the world.