I’m not even American. I’m just someone who has been nervously watching the US be on fire, and hoping that my own country (the UK) would recognise that this is our future if we continue on this path.

I remember how I felt after the 2017 UK general election, when the Conservatives lost their majority and Corbyn’s Labour party made significant gains. I was still in university at the time, and I remember that we all gathered in the common room to watch the live countdown until the polls closed. It was so unbelievably loud; I had never seen the common room so full, and I couldn’t fathom how anyone was even able to make conversation when the noise was painful to me, despite wearing earplugs. I began to regret coming along to this — how would any of us even be able to hear the TV?

However, when we reached the final minute of waiting, a hush fell over the room so suddenly that the quiet felt more oppressive than the noise. It was a bizarre experience to be in such a packed space with such silence. I wondered whether the uncanny feeling was perhaps because I could subconsciously hear people’s breathing, and my brain couldn’t reconcile the crowd density with the absolute quiet. Or maybe the conflict was between my conscious awareness of how many people were here, and not hearing people breathing. No doubt I wasn’t the only person holding my breath in that final stretch.

Then timer hit zero, and the exit poll results were revealed: “Conservatives are the largest party, but they don’t have an overall majority”. The room erupted in cheers. People were jumping in excitement, hugging their friends — a couple people were even crying. There were almost certainly some conservatives in there who were disappointed, but they could not be seen through the sheer, vibrating jubilance of the room. I don’t think I reacted much, at first. It was so loud that I could scarcely string a coherent thought together, but this time, I didn’t mind the noise.

Such raucous celebration might have seemed a bit silly, to an outside observer. After all, Labour hadn’t gained a majority; the Conservatives were still the biggest party, and a hung parliament isn’t great for anyone. No-one cared about that though, because this was a moment that transcended the nitty gritty of governance — this was about hope. I had an exam early the next morning, so I couldn’t stick around to party, but it was enough to just sit there for a while and let the people’s joy nourish my tired soul.

One of the most interesting things about Jeremy Corbyn, as a politician, is that he’s not an especially good speaker. I went to one of his rallies when he was running to be the leader of Labour, and his speech was decent, but seeing him in person drove home that he didn’t have the charisma that most successful politicians do. However, despite this, the crowd was absolutely buzzing. This was in an area that’s so socioeconomically depressed that many people disengage from politics, so it was striking to see how Corbyn’s message had electrified them. The thing that was so powerful about him was that he was suggesting an alternative to the austerity policies that had been ravaging the country. He was laying out a plan for Labour to be something more than just “Tory-lite”. You don’t need much charisma when people are so excited by your message that their hope fills in all the gaps. It felt so laughably simple, like something had fallen into place. We were all so desperate for something different in politics, and here it was. We had hope.

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My memory of the 2019 General Election is just as vivid as the 2017 one, but for much different reasons. The Conservatives regained their majority in a landslide in what would be the death of Jeremy Corbyn’s Labour. I remember sitting on the sofa beside a couple of friends, stewing in a suffocating and enduring silence. We stayed up late into the night, watching as the projected results slowly morphed into being a concrete reality, and the last of our hope trickled away into abjection. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so despondent. I have a long history of mental health issues, so I’m no stranger to the kind of despair that eats at you until only apathy remains. I’ve never felt quite so hollow though. I remember thinking that this election result made my frequent struggles against suicidal ideation feel pointless, because it felt UK electorate had indicated that a cripple like me was an acceptable sacrifice on the macroeconomic altar.

In the aftermath of that election, I would come to consider Corbyn’s defeat as being inevitable. They never expected him to win the leadership election back in 2015, and they certainly didn’t expect him to make the gains he did in 2017. This scared the establishment on both sides of the aisle, but especially his own party. A significant part of why Corbyn lost in 2019 is because establishment politicians in the Labour party spent two years actively striving to undermine him — an effort that was augmented by the media lambasting him at every opportunity. Local Labour party campaign groups, which had constantly been complaining about the lack of young people willing to get involved in helping do the ground work necessary to make politics work, were suddenly putting obstacles in the way of people who Corbyn had inspired to become engaged in politics. Corbyn was by no means perfect, but I believe we might have had a chance if he hadn’t been sabotaged by his own party. The magic that propelled him to power was lost and the grassroots enthusiasm for change faded away into political apathy. People felt like they had been foolish for ever hoping that things could be different. This was emphasised when we saw how things played out over the pond for Bernie Sanders. Of course they lost. The system isn’t broken, after all — it’s working exactly as intended. They would never let people like Sanders or Corbyn have any real power, because even politicians who superficially opposed the harms of capitalism are committed to preserving it.

And that how the UK got a prime minister who is less compelling than a wet fart.

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This brings us to Mamdani, the person who catalysed this post. It was 2am in the UK when the polls closed, and we stayed up late until the results came in. It’s 9:20am now as I’m writing this, because I’ve been too emotional to sleep. At first it was the adrenaline of anticipation that was keeping me awake, but as that abated, I found that I was overwhelmed by other emotions. Mamdani’s victory gave me a sense of catharsis, and writing all of this has made me realise how much grief I’ve been holding into.

I know that things aren’t over. The establishment is going to resist Mamdani with all it’s might, and I am legitimately fearful of the punitive hammer of fascism that now hangs over New Yorkers. These concerns feel almost trivial compared to the relief I’m feeling right now though. Even if everything goes to shit now and Mamdani struggles to implement his policies, this is still a powerful victory for what it symbolises. I was so scared in the run up to this election because I thought that if anyone would have a chance to be a force for change within our existing political system, it would be someone like Mamdani. I tried to tune out a lot of NY election coverage of recent months because I dreaded letting myself feel hopeful again. Perhaps it’d be wiser to give up any hope for meaningful change through electoral politics.

I did consider that, but it didn’t seem viable. I don’t believe that it’s possible to acquire the radical change that society needs through electoral politics alone, but I’d also prefer if we avoided having to do a violent revolution (I consider myself an anti-revolutionary anarchist because I don’t believe that striving for revolution equips us with the necessary skills to build a society that supports human thriving). The particulars of my political beliefs are irrelevant here though, because the point is that if Mamdani had lost, it would likely shift me to a more pessimistic view of the world and our potential futures. New York may be a long way away from me, but this result will have ripple effects across the entire world. This is a symbolic victory that shows something that became abundantly clear to me back in 2015, when I went to that Corbyn rally. People are desperate for something different, and when someone offers them a concrete alternative to the way things currently are, people resonate with that message.

I hope that this victory can help people in the US and beyond that they’re reasonable for wanting more from their life. Humans are deeply silly creatures and we often forget that the systems we take for granted often have no material grounding in the reality of what we need it would be foolish to think it’s possible to change the world through electoral politics alone, but it would be even more foolish to neglect a systemic lever that could help us build something that’s closer to where we need to be. Hopefully Mayor Mamdani will be able to implement policies that will improve the lives of New Yorkers, and hopefully that will reveal additional levers that those of us who aren’t politicians can use in our attempts to destroy this current fucked up system.

There I go again, talking about hope. That’s what this post is really about. It’s been a while since I felt this kind of hope towards politics. Maybe Mamdani’s tenure will go to hell, but right now, I don’t care about that possibility. Tonight has shown that there is a huge number of people who actively want to be a part of building a better world so the people come after this, and that voters resonate with the policies Mamdani had put forward. It makes me feel like it matters that I’m still alive because I am still here and that feels powerful l.

I’ve become extremely sleepy, so I’m going to get some rest now. Sorry if there are any typos due to my tiredness. T