Ross Barkan is the author of five books, including the novel Glass Century. He's a contributing writer to the NY Times Magazine, a columnist for NY Magazine, and the editor-in-chief of The Metropolitan Review, a books and culture review publication.

The story of the pandemic in New York cannot be told without Andrew Cuomo. And the story of New York itself, in the twenty-first century, is at least partially the story of this imperial governor. We live in an era of strongmen, of ever greater flirtations with authoritarianism. Few governors, at their height, wielded more power and influence than Cuomo. Few, in any state, knew what it was to impose their will on millions. Cuomo could, at one time, shut down the world’s largest subway system on a whim. He could force America’s largest city to start paying the rent of privately-run schools. He could compel prisoners to produce thousands of gallons of hand sanitizer.

Cuomo as mayor would not quite have the same authority. New York City is, in many ways, a creature of New York State government. The governor and legislature could constrain him. But Mayor Cuomo would be formidable. He would command the nation’s largest police force. He would oversee the nation’s largest school system. There would be much for him to do. And he won’t forget those who stood against him. He holds deeper grudges than Trump and he’s far more competent. Unlike Trump, transactions and dealmaking only go so far; de Blasio, for example, strained for years to accommodate Cuomo, significantly aiding one of his re-election bids. It didn’t matter. Cuomo perceived a threat and sought to stamp it out. Those who now want to rehabilitate Cuomo—who are prepared to usher him into City Hall—don’t quite understand what it is that’s in front of them. Cuomo won’t rest until revenge is meted out.”

Ross Barkan is the author of five books, including the novel Glass Century. He's a contributing writer to the NY Times Magazine, a columnist for NY Magazine, and the editor-in-chief of The Metropolitan Review, a books and culture review publication.

The story of the pandemic in New York cannot be told without Andrew Cuomo. And the story of New York itself, in the twenty-first century, is at least partially the story of this imperial governor. We live in an era of strongmen, of ever greater flirtations with authoritarianism. Few governors, at their height, wielded more power and influence than Cuomo. Few, in any state, knew what it was to impose their will on millions. Cuomo could, at one time, shut down the world’s largest subway system on a whim. He could force America’s largest city to start paying the rent of privately-run schools. He could compel prisoners to produce thousands of gallons of hand sanitizer.

Cuomo as mayor would not quite have the same authority. New York City is, in many ways, a creature of New York State government. The governor and legislature could constrain him. But Mayor Cuomo would be formidable. He would command the nation’s largest police force. He would oversee the nation’s largest school system. There would be much for him to do. And he won’t forget those who stood against him. He holds deeper grudges than Trump and he’s far more competent. Unlike Trump, transactions and dealmaking only go so far; de Blasio, for example, strained for years to accommodate Cuomo, significantly aiding one of his re-election bids. It didn’t matter. Cuomo perceived a threat and sought to stamp it out. Those who now want to rehabilitate Cuomo—who are prepared to usher him into City Hall—don’t quite understand what it is that’s in front of them. Cuomo won’t rest until revenge is meted out.”