Eric Adams’ rise to political prominence, from transit cop to New York City mayor, has all the hallmarks of a rags to riches story. As a teenager in Brooklyn, Adams found himself squarely in the crosshairs of the justice system when he was arrested for criminal trespass at the age of 15. In a 1999 New York Times profile, he recalls being beaten so badly by the arresting officers that he urinated blood for a week afterward. He cites this experience as one of the formative factors that motivated him to join the force and reform it from within.
In the 2021 mayoral election, Adams portrayed himself as a candidate who would be tough on crime, while also purging the racial discrimination deeply entrenched within the police system. His story resonated deeply with those most closely tied to his journey; law enforcement officers backed his campaign and ultimately he performed the strongest among a large contingent of Black voters in Brooklyn, where Adams was born and served as the Borough President, and Queens, where he grew up. Adams’ victory can be largely attributed to New Yorkers’ desire for a candidate who would revitalize the city and combat the city’s rampant crime epidemic.
Ultimately, beyond his policy, Adams’ successful candidacy was evidently bolstered by his ability to tell a convincing story about himself. The legend of a young man, who almost succumbed to gang violence and yet managed to rise through the ranks of law enforcement, struck the right chord at the right time with a lot of voters. This indictment reinforces the idea that, while the crafting of biographical narratives is one of the most powerful tools in a politician's toolbox, we should be wary of the influence it has on us.
Adams’ indictment, which was unsealed on Sept. 26, challenged the narrative which Adams has been crafting about himself for over 30 years. The 57-page document outlines several instances of bribery and campaign finance violations. The prosecution alleges that Adams, through his close relationship with influential members of the Turkish community, received luxury airfare with Turkish Airlines and five-star accommodations for a fraction of the regular price — sometimes even for free. These perks were so enticing that Adams reportedly asked his partner if there were any Turkish Airlines flights between New York and Chile.
The indictment alleges that Adams was swayed by these bribes to act in the interests of the Turkish government on two documented instances. First, upon the urging of a Turkish official, Adams refused to issue a statement on Armenian Genocide Remembrance Day, siding himself with the Turkish government’s denial of the genocide. In another instance, Adams used his political power to pressure the New York City Fire Department into approving the opening of a newly constructed Turkish House in time for President Erdogan’s visit to New York City, despite documented fire safety issues.
The second part of the indictment details how Adams was able to circumvent campaign finance laws through the use of straw donors. According to the indictment, wealthy Turkish nationals, some of whom sought to donate more than $25,000, wired smaller amounts of money to the employees of Adams and other U.S. nationals, who then donated smaller amounts of money to Adams’ mayoral campaign to bypass campaign finance laws limiting donation amounts and requiring U.S. nationality. In each of these cases, the prosecution alleges that Adams was fully aware of the actions taking place and knew they were illegal. In some instances, he even offered to pay for travel expenses at fair market value in an attempt to conceal the bribes he was receiving.
In a press conference immediately following the indictment, Adams responded in a manner reminiscent of former President Donald Trump's cries of political persecution. He indirectly claimed that this indictment was retaliation for his stance on the migrant crisis and was thus politically motivated. However, this messaging has not resonated with the public: A recent poll indicates that nearly 70% of New Yorkers want Adams to step down. Governor Kathy Hochul, who has the power to remove Adams from office, has so far remained taciturn, allowing the situation to play out in the court of public opinion.
While there are undoubtedly practical political realities to address, the question must be raised: What motivated Adams to engage in such illicit activities? Was it power, the trappings of public office or a desire for the finer things in life? In my opinion, Adams exemplifies a dangerous ambiguity often found among a certain segment of successful yet corrupt politicians — a steely-eyed determination to bend and even break the rules to serve one’s own self-interest. The Federalist Papers state, “If angels were to govern men, neither external nor internal controls on government would be necessary.” Unfortunately, politicians are not angels. Ultimately, this indictment, far from an instance of political persecution, is one of the many ways we should be thankful for the checks and balances on public office which some politicians have sought to remove. The narrative that Adams has spent 30 years building has turned out to be a farce. As politically active citizens, let this be a lesson of our duty to be naturally suspicious towards the myths and stories that politicians tell about themselves.
