On his first day in office, New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani signed an executive order that, at first glance, appeared administrative in nature. In a single paragraph, the order revoked all mayoral executive orders issued on or after September 26, 2024, unless reissued or replaced.

Among those swept away was New York City’s recognition of the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA) definition of antisemitism.

The wording of the order matters. This was not a narrow repeal following debate or review. It was a blanket revocation – automatic, immediate, and indiscriminate. No replacement framework was announced. No interim guidance was offered to city agencies. No explanation was given as to how antisemitism would now be identified, assessed, or addressed within municipal systems.

Supporters of the new mayor have described the move as bureaucratic housekeeping or a principled stand for free speech. That framing misses the point. The IHRA definition does not criminalize speech, ban criticism of Israel, or silence protest. It is a working definition, adopted by governments and institutions worldwide, designed to identify when familiar tropes cross the line from political critique into antisemitic targeting.

These include denying the Jewish people the right to self-determination, accusing Jewish citizens of dual loyalty, holding Jews collectively responsible for Israel’s actions, or invoking Nazi comparisons to delegitimize Jewish sovereignty. None of this limits debate; it provides clarity.

Zohran Mamdani looks on at Old City Hall Staion on the day he is sworn in as mayor of New York City, New York, US, Thursday, Jan 1st 2026.
Zohran Mamdani looks on at Old City Hall Staion on the day he is sworn in as mayor of New York City, New York, US, Thursday, Jan 1st 2026. (credit: Amir Hamja/Pool via REUTERS)

In government, clarity is not cosmetic. Definitions guide training, enforcement, and judgment. They shape how harassment complaints are evaluated, how schools and agencies assess hostile environments, and how officials distinguish protected expression from discriminatory conduct. Remove the definition, and every case becomes a negotiation. Every response slows. Every decision becomes discretionary.

That discretion exists in a dangerous moment.

Largest Jewish population outside Israel

New York City is home to the largest Jewish population outside Israel. Antisemitic incidents in the United States are at record highs. Jewish institutions increasingly require security. Synagogues, schools, and community centers are routinely targeted for protests tied to events thousands of miles away – often framed as “anti-Zionist,” but experienced by Jews as intimidation.

Against this backdrop, the mayor chose ambiguity.

Equally troubling is what else disappeared with the stroke of his pen. The same blanket revocation eliminated executive orders intended to prevent city resources from being used in discriminatory boycotts of Israel and to evaluate how protests near houses of worship affect access, safety, and religious freedom. These were not radical measures. They were modest guardrails – signals that the city recognized how easily protests can slide into harassment.

The mayor has said he will maintain a Mayor’s Office to Combat Antisemitism. But an office without standards is not policy; it is branding. If City Hall is serious about protecting Jewish New Yorkers, it must explain – clearly and publicly – how antisemitism will now be identified, addressed, and deterred in practice, particularly when it comes cloaked in the language of Israel demonization.

Perhaps most telling has been the international reaction. Media outlets in the Arab world and Iran have already celebrated or highlighted the revocation as a rollback of protections for Jews and a weakening of restrictions on anti-Israel activism. Whatever the mayor’s intent, that interpretation has traveled quickly beyond New York’s borders.
This is not because foreign observers misunderstand municipal procedure. It is because symbols matter. When a major Western city removes an internationally recognized antisemitism framework without replacement, it is read – fairly or not – as a retreat.

No one is asking New York to police opinions. But the same city that rightly recognizes how coded language can mask racism or bigotry against other minorities should not suddenly plead confusion when Jews are targeted through long-documented patterns.

Dropping the IHRA definition does not make antisemitism disappear. It merely signals a preference for uncertainty over accountability. History suggests that uncertainty rarely protects minorities, but instead usually emboldens those willing to test how far they can go.

New York did not just revoke a definition. It sent a signal – and the world heard it.

The writer is the president of the Religious Zionists of America. He is the father of Alisa Flatow, who was murdered in an Iranian-sponsored Palestinian terrorist attack in 1995 and is the author of A Father’s Story: My Fight for Justice Against Iranian Terror, now available in an expanded paperback edition on Amazon. Note: The RZA is not affiliated with any American or Israeli political party.