By Craig Martel | PoliticsAreLocal.com | September 2025
Andrew Cuomo wants back in. Not with humility, not with accountability, but with a scorched-earth campaign against the very party that once crowned him king. After losing the Democratic primary and announcing a run for New York City mayor as an independent, Cuomo sat down with The New York Times and declared, without irony, that he couldn’t name a single living Democrat he admires. Not one. Not even begrudging respect. Just a nostalgic roll call of dead men: his father Mario Cuomo, JFK, and RFK.
Let’s be clear: this isn’t principled dissent. It’s ego rehab disguised as political critique. And it’s time for Cuomo to shut the hell up.
1. The Audacity of Amnesia
Cuomo’s selective memory is stunning. He speaks as if the Democratic Party betrayed him, not the other way around. This is the same Andrew Cuomo who resigned in disgrace after multiple credible allegations of sexual harassment, a toxic workplace culture, and a pandemic-era nursing home scandal that cost lives and obscured data. The same Cuomo who weaponized his press briefings for personal glory while gaslighting critics and silencing whistleblowers.
Now he wants to play elder statesman? Spare us.
2. Weaponizing Nostalgia
Cuomo’s invocation of JFK and RFK isn’t just lazy, it’s manipulative. He’s trying to wrap himself in the legacy of moral courage and public service while dodging accountability for his own failures. JFK faced down nuclear annihilation. RFK fought for civil rights and economic justice. Cuomo fought… subpoenas and bad press.
His father, Mario Cuomo, was a thoughtful, principled governor who understood the weight of public service. Andrew inherited the name but not the ethos. Quoting dead icons while trashing the living is a coward’s move.
3. The Party Didn’t Leave Him, He Imploded
Cuomo claims the Democratic Party “is not meeting the moment.” What moment, exactly? The moment where voters demand transparency, accountability, and ethical leadership? Because if that’s the moment, Cuomo helped create the crisis, not solve it.
He governed with a blend of arrogance and vengeance, alienating allies and bulldozing critics. His fall wasn’t a partisan hit job, it was the inevitable result of unchecked power and hubris. The party didn’t exile him. He self-destructed.
4. Running as an Independent Is Not Brave, It’s Desperate
Let’s not romanticize this mayoral run. Cuomo isn’t forging a bold new path. He’s clinging to relevance. Running as an independent after losing the primary is the political equivalent of showing up to a party you weren’t invited to and demanding the mic.
New York City deserves leadership rooted in vision, not vendetta. Cuomo’s campaign is less about serving the public and more about settling scores. He’s not offering solutions—he’s offering himself, again, as if the city owes him another round.
5. The Voters Remember
Cuomo seems to think time heals all wounds and erases all receipts. But voters remember. They remember the brave women who came forward. They remember the nursing home data debacle. They remember the bullying, the retaliation, the gaslighting.
This isn’t about cancel culture. It’s about consequences. Cuomo had power, abused it, and now wants a redemption arc without the hard part: reflection, apology, and change. That’s not leadership. That’s narcissism.
6. Silence Isn’t Weakness, It’s Grace
There’s a path Cuomo could take. He could step back, reflect, mentor quietly, and let others lead. He could use his experience to support ethical governance from behind the scenes. But instead, he’s choosing the loudest, most self-serving route possible.
Silence, in this case, wouldn’t be weakness. It would be grace. It would be a recognition that sometimes the most powerful thing a disgraced leader can do is stop talking and start listening.
7. The Hypocrisy Is Loud
Cuomo’s critique of Democrats is rich, considering his own record. He accuses the party of failing to meet the moment while ignoring the fact that he was the moment—for all the wrong reasons. He wants to be seen as a truth-teller, but he’s dodging the truth about his own legacy.
If Cuomo wants to critique the party, fine. But he doesn’t get to do it from a pedestal built on denial and deflection. He doesn’t get to pretend he’s the last honest man in politics when his own house is still smoldering.
8. We Don’t Need Another Comeback Tour
America is drowning in comeback tours. Disgraced politicians rebrand as truth-tellers. Failed Cuomo, by all accounts, is serving himself.
So yes, it’s time for him to shut the hell up. Not because he’s irrelevant, but because he refuses to be honest. Not because he’s flawed, but because he won’t grow. Not because he’s loud, but because he’s wrong.
The future is calling. And it’s not asking for Cuomo.
9. The Future Doesn’t Need Him
Cuomo’s worldview is stuck in the past. He’s invoking the Kennedys while ignoring the grassroots movements, young leaders, and community organizers shaping the future. He’s trying to lead a city that’s already moved on.
New York doesn’t need Cuomo’s nostalgia. It needs innovation, empathy, and courage. It needs leaders who listen, not lecture. Who build, not bulldoze. Who show up for the people, not just for themselves.
Conclusion:
Andrew Cuomo had his moment. He squandered it. Now he wants another shot, armed with bitterness and selective memory. But leadership isn’t about who you admire, it’s about who you serve. And