Adams, Trump, and the Fall of Gotham.
New York City Mayor Eric Adams’ arraignment at Moynihan United States Courthouse on September 28, 2024. Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.
The recent decline of America’s national image, accelerated by Trump’s sweeping cuts to the United States Agency for International Development (USAID), places the country well behind its international peers. In truth, I was half convinced that there was no way things could possibly get worse. The last five days proved me wrong. Yet another—perhaps more concerning—domestic political crisis is adding fuel to the dumpster fire that is Trump’s political agenda. The slew of resignations within the Department of Justice (DOJ) indicate an unfolding, widespread disaster that shows no signs of abating anytime soon. The resignations at the DOJ came as Emil Bove, the agency’s acting second-in-command, applied more pressure on federal lawyers to drop the charges against New York City Mayor Eric Adams.
It is possible to argue that this fallout in the DOJ bears a resemblance to Trump’s attacks on USAID in the third week of his administration. Yes, the DOJ reeks of the same corruption and meddlesome power politics that Trump espoused during his coup de main against USAID from earlier. But that is where the similarities end. Trump’s attacks against USAID could be reasonably grouped under his new efficiency agenda and the broadening powers of his Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), as he broadly cut federal spending and the scale of staff. Mayor Adams’ tentative “get out of jail free” card is a sign that Trump does not need DOGE or his planned “reduction of the federal bureaucracy” to force more political leaders to bow to his will––quid pro quo corruption does the trick well enough. As a result, the DOJ has fallen into a state of crisis because of Trump’s own aggressive, guerilla-style leadership psychology.
This state of peril can—in theory—be rectified by the DOJ itself. Lawyers and litigators in the department possess the skills needed to handle the resignation problem: It could simply refuse to drop charges against Mayor Adams. But as the DOJ’s calamity reaches New York City, the rapid flight of high-level personnel from the Adams administration paints a grim picture for the future of the US and its largest city. Four deputy mayors recently resigned from their posts, arguing that they were unable to carry out their duties alongside Mayor Adams in good faith. Additionally, sources close to the deputy mayors shared that Adams prohibited them from criticizing Trump’s policies. In response to all this, the most urgent question we should be asking is: “What went wrong?” I propose a two-step answer. First, our current dilemma could have been anticipated by examining the events of the last several months. And second, despite those clear warning signs, active steps to mediate this potential quandary were not taken in the first place.
To explain the first prong of this question, it is best to present a rough timeline linking key events. Readers will recall that last September, Mayor Adams was charged on a five-count indictment for “conspiracy, wire fraud, soliciting illegal foreign campaign contributions from foreign nationals, and bribery,” according to a New York Times summary. He also made history by becoming the only sitting New York City Mayor to be indicted. The September indictment came amidst a highly contentious presidential election that Trump would later win on November 5th. This win allowed Trump to fulfill sweeping ambitions that would radically alter the status quo and establish national precedents. Among these ambitions, Trump expressed in a statement on December 16th that he would be open to pardoning the New York Mayor. It took only one month for Mayor Adams to make the trip down to Mar-a-Lago to meet with President Trump on January 16th, 2025. The trip was funded by the city because Mayor Adams articulated that his meeting would be for a “city purpose.”
At this point, many people would be correct to raise their red flags and call out the nefarious undertones of the meeting despite its purported “city purpose.” This series of events—the indictment, presidential election, Trump’s remarks, and Adams’ city-funded Mar-a-Lago trip—constitutes a trajectory that clearly anticipated where we are today. But to be extra clear, Adams’ increasing legal woes and rising camaraderie with the new president allowed Trump to apply an added level of strategy to his new federal government restructuring. Adams, desperate for the legal bail-out, cozied up to Trump to ensure that the new DOJ would be open to dropping the charges against him. Trump’s appointment of Emil Bove as the DOJ’s “number two” may have been decided before the DOJ began considering a pardon for Adams, but placing Bove in an ideal position to coerce his staff into dropping the charges against Adams—whether Bove himself is in favor of the measure or not—made Trump’s restructuring opportune. The president could inject his influence into the Adams administration by purchasing the Mayor’s allyship with a potential legal bailout. This comes as no surprise when these events are examined together. It is in this respect that the first step of the answer to the “What went wrong” question is evidently clear. The events from September to mid-January anticipated and therefore predicted the local fallout of New York City politics we see today.
For skeptical readers who may be unsatisfied with just a four-event link to show how our current crisis was easily anticipated, other city events also flagged the downward spiral of the Adams administration. This time, look at Mayor Adams’ web of allies and friends and their slow trickle out of his administration. New York City police commissioner Edward Caban resigned last fall after his phone was seized during the federal investigation into Adams. The head of the city’s public school system, David Banks, resigned for the same reasons as Caban on September 24th, 2024. On October 7th, Adams’ deputy mayor for public safety, Philip Banks, resigned amidst Adams’ federal indictment. Adam’s director of Asian Affairs, Winnie Greco, also stepped down and his former aide, Rana Abbasova, was fired according to a city spokesperson. Mohammed Bahi, the Mayor’s liaison to the Muslim community, resigned one day after Philip Banks made his announcement. But the most shocking developments took place later in December. The Mayor’s former chief advisor, Ingrid Lewis-Martin, her son, Glenn D. Martin II, and two real estate investors, Raizada Vaid, and Mayank Dwivedi, were indicted and removed from their posts on the 19th of that month. Four days later, Erden Arkan, a Brooklyn real estate magnate who allegedly worked with Abbasova, pled guilty to conspiracy charges linked to illegal campaign funds he gave to Adams under a false identity. For those skeptical readers, eleven resignations—fifteen if you include the four deputy mayors who resigned recently—is an impossible number to refute. Each resignation, termination, and indictment coalesced into a domino effect that forced four other deputy mayors and a chief DOJ prosecutor out of the public service. So why did no one do anything to stop this? This is where the second step of the “What went wrong” question becomes relevant.
The cascade of events, from the indictment to Mar-a-Lago, alongside the fifteen-person exodus out of public service could have been prevented if existing municipal infrastructure had intervened. As a point of fact, the federal investigation into Mayor Adams was made public on November 2nd, 2023 when FBI agents raided the home of the Mayor’s chief fundraiser, Brianna Suggs. There was plenty of time—almost a year—for the New York Department of Investigation (DOI) or even the city’s Comptroller to intervene with a plan to immediately prevent any further backsliding. The reality shows a startling vacuum indicating otherwise. Policy and Procedure Recommendations (PPRs) are issued quarterly and used by the Mayor’s office and other city agencies to correct policy and procedural vulnerabilities after DOI investigations. According to the City’s DOI database, the earliest (non-citywide) PPR implemented after the Suggs raids at the Mayor’s Office was passed on May 3, 2024, nearly six months after the fact. At this point, the potential extent of Mayor Adam’s criminal record—and his embroilment with international campaign fraud with Turkish officials—should have been obvious after the Suggs raid publicized the FBI’s investigation. The subject matter of the PPR and its timeline of implementation poses two critical issues. Firstly, the May 2024 PPR is a recommendation for employee “separation,” a far cry from addressing the millions of dollars Mayor Adams and his allies stole. Just look at the text of the PPR to confirm its uselessness:
“Agencies should be instructed that upon separation from an agency, the reason for an employee’s departure should be accurately entered in NYCAPS. The reason for the separation entered into the system should be consistent with separation paperwork provided to the employee.”
Secondly, this PPR was the last and most recent PPR in the Mayor's Office to be issued. The only more current PPR implemented was issued by the Department of Finance clarifying the disclosure of financial information in household benefit applications on September 2, 2024. In that respect, no PPRs to combat corruption were issued after May 3, 2024. To put it more simply, nothing between 2023—when the investigation went public—and late 2024 indicated any attempts by the DOI to root out the vicious, high-level corruption in the Mayor’s Office which Adams is now at pains to deny. These PPRs are released quarterly and designed to “correct and prevent future cases of waste, corruption, or gross mismanagement.” The fundamental purpose of the DOI and its PPR system is to silo and address the type of corruption that Adams perpetuated. They should have been able to prevent the situation in the first place and could have easily passed policy corrections or procedural guidance for run by or affiliated with Adams after the investigation went public. The evidence above, indicating the contrary, is proof that the DOI did almost nothing to silo Adams’ public embarrassment. But to give a small amount of credit where credit is due, New York City Comptroller—now embarking on a mayoral campaign—Brad Lander launched an anti-corruption scheme on September 17th, 2024, and currently underwrites the issue as a key facet of his mayoral candidacy. But both measures were simply too little, too late.
Despite clear signaling about Adam’s illicit campaign activity, the DOI and city Comptroller never clocked those signals as credible. Only after the indictment would Lander act. Perhaps they hoped that Adams’ wrongdoing would blow over and the FBI would drop their investigation. That would agree with the ostensible lack of citywide PPRs in the mayor’s office and retroactive measures by the comptroller on September 17, 2024. But here’s another way to look at it: Adams’ meticulous private collusion won out over the surface-level anti-corruption tactics implemented by the city. Between February 7th, 2020, and November 2nd, 2023 citywide PPRs completely halted at the Mayor’s Office, the division where Adams’ corruption began in the first place. From November 2, 2023 (the Suggs raid) to September 16th, 2024 (the Mayor’s indictment date), the PPR vacuum at the Mayor’s office persisted. Ironically, Lander’s retroactive anti-corruption platform arrived just one day too late to be effective.
I arrive back at the start to consider the question that began this exploration: “What went wrong?” The answer combines the fact that today’s dilemma could have been easily anticipated and that chances to act after the first warning sign on November 2, 2023, were completely ignored. All the while, the mechanisms that could have prevented the ceaseless corruption or even abated its influence were nowhere to be found. Incredulous readers might push back and argue that any solutions enacted between November 2, 2023, and September 16th, 2024 would have done little to end the corruption Mayor Adams already committed in office. But from a pragmatic standpoint—especially when it comes to government corruption—half a loaf is better than no bread. This naturally shifts the conversation to the question of Mayor Adams’ political future.
At this moment, it is unclear how Mayor Adams will navigate the deep fissures in his reelection path. His current policies seem even more out of touch with the progressive urban base of New York City. For example, on February 13th, Adams met with Trump’s “border czar” and announced that immigration officers could operate at Rikers Island jail. ICE officers would investigate violent gangs and criminal organizations in the city using Rikers as a vantage point of sorts. The measure falls in line with Trump’s aggressive anti-immigrant agenda and indicates a new, more radical phase in Mayor Adams’ political tenure whereby he might very well do anything—even channel the president himself—to remain relevant. Even still, a majority of city voters are likely to support Governor Kathy Hochul’s removal of Adams as Mayor, according to a VoteCast by the Associated Press. On February 20, Governor Hochul decided not to oust Mayor Adams but affirmed measures to increase state supervision over New York City operations. Hochul cited the volatility of the Trump-Adams alliance and desire to ensure “the will of the voters” and “sanctity of democratic elections” as her main motivations for refusing to dethrone the Mayor. Similarly, she asserted that by relieving Adams of his post, the power vacuum would weaken the city and allow Trump to wield increased influence over its affairs. Meanwhile, this power vacuum seems to be taking shape already.
Adams’ federal indictment hangs in the balance even after facing Judge Dale Ho, who called in federal prosecutors to explain their decision and ultimately postponed the trial indefinitely, making it clear the trial on April 21 would not happen. The Mayor, at least for now, remains in the hot seat. But Judge Ho’s decision weighs even more heavily on the outcome of New York City politics than ever before. The indictment remains, but Adams’ day in court might never happen; meanwhile, his reelection to be the City’s top brass seems increasingly impossible. His recent decision to sue Trump for the $80 million taken back by the federal government might represent an attempt to curry favor with the public after finally swerving his court date. The mayor’s shady track record is absolutely unforgettable and begs the type of scrutiny that might reveal an underlying answer. In that respect, this piece tries to explain the current crises in city and federal politics by citing an unfolding series of worsening episodes while asking “What went wrong?” The two-pronged answer I provide offers a leverage point to turn and ask a similar question of Trump.
Though I will not re-litigate the post-mortems that already explain Trump’s path to the presidency despite signs indicating otherwise, the modified question “What more could go wrong?” is aptly unveiled. It is tempting to offer a highly pessimistic and overly general answer; it seems that everything could go wrong if Trump continues his lunacy from the past several weeks. But I offer a more specific suggestion that begins with former (and disgraced) Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich. In early February, Trump issued a pardon to Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich who was released from his imprisonment on corruption-related crimes, which included trying to sell off a senate seat in his state vacated by President Obama. While Blagojevich no longer serves as the statewide leader of Illinois, the move says something more important about Trump’s leadership psychology.
From Adams to Blagojevich—New York to Illinois—Trump is leveraging his presidential pardoning system to forge key alliances in “enemy states.” New York City and Chicago are some of the largest sanctuary cities in the US that tout sanctuary policies that go against Trump’s immigration agenda. He is collecting former and currently-serving local leaders as a show of force, demonstrating his capacity to dominate the internal mechanisms of both federal and state politics. And he’s showing that he does not require the federal influence of DOGE to do so. Trump has become the President who can create an entirely new department to enact sweeping cuts while mobilizing a keystone federal institution—the DOJ—to force people like Adams to comply with his politics, psychology, and ambitious four-year agenda.
It is that fact alone that makes this new urban, legal, and political reality so affronting. New York City, Mayor Adams, and the DOI are members of the first local municipality to fall under Trump’s pervasive authority. And we saw this coming. Unearthing exactly “What went wrong” through the detailed evidence above shows the numerous opportunities we had to intervene for the better. But to some degree, the answer to that question is perhaps simpler. Trump took advantage of one key truth that Mayor Eric Adams forgot when he started his furtive corruption campaign: some skeletons are just too big to bury.
Data Availability Statement: the DOI PPR data used for this editorial is available upon request; data from New York’s DOI PPR database was downloaded and formatted for ease of analysis but no entries were modified, edited, or altered in any way. The full raw dataset can be accessed through the link here.
Ishaan Barrett (CC ‘26) is a junior studying urban studies, political science, and Arabic language and culture. His previous writing has been featured in URBAN Magazine at Columbia GSAPP, the Harvard Urban Review, the Barnard-Columbia Urban Review, the Columbia Policy Journal, and the Columbia Daily Spectator. He can be reached at i.barrett@columbia.edu.