Why Susana Mendoza may be Chicago’s best bet to beat Brandon Johnson
Ever since the Watergate scandal erupted in 1972, the operative phrase in political campaigns has been “follow the money.” The money doesn’t lie — and right now, it’s telling a story that should make Brandon Johnson sweat, and give Chicago cause for elation.
At the halfway point of his first term, Johnson’s once-blazing political star is imploding. Sure, he reported raising nearly $300,000 in the first quarter of 2025, bringing his campaign war chest to about $1.16 million — roughly where Lori Lightfoot was at this stage in her doomed mayoralty. However, what makes this political moment especially compelling is not Johnson’s numbers. It’s the numbers of the two statewide Democrats already jockeying for position: Secretary of State Alexi Giannoulias and Comptroller Susana Mendoza.
Based on their fundraising strength, political networks, and overall competence, the strategy is clear: Let’s make sure Brandon Johnson doesn’t even make the runoff.
Let Mendoza and Giannoulias fight it out. Because at this point, just about anyone with a functioning calculator, a basic understanding of economics, and a passing respect for public order would be better than the man currently occupying the fifth floor at City Hall.
The numbers game
Let’s start with the scoreboard.
Giannoulias pulled in nearly $528,000 in Q1 — dwarfing Johnson’s haul — and sits atop a hefty $3.7 million campaign balance. That’s a political war machine in waiting, with major backing from construction and trade unions, and the kind of institutional support Johnson only dreams about.
Then there’s Susana Mendoza, the former mayoral candidate. This year, she raised about $323,000 — more than the sitting mayor — and has $1.3 million in the bank. Mendoza been raising her profile, appearing everywhere from budget hearings to neighborhood events, reintroducing herself as the steady, no-nonsense executive Chicago so desperately needs and the ethnicity to rally Chicago’s underrepresented Hispanic vote.
Johnson’s $300,000 looks paltry by comparison — and even that number deserves asterisks. Big ones.
Funny money, fuzzy ethics
A closer look at Johnson’s financial statements reveals the kind of sloppiness and ethically gray behavior that’s become his administration’s trademark.
Johnson’s campaign has already faced scrutiny for failing to report major labor contributions, omitting inauguration expenses, and — get this — reporting a $25,000 donation that the donor says was never contributed.
Yes, the Illinois Realtors PAC was stunned to see a $25,000 “contribution” listed in Johnson’s filings. They say they never gave it — and never got a refund either. Apparently, the mayor’s team reported a year-old donation to a different committee by mistake. Maybe. If you believe that.
Then there’s the gambling money. Nearly $50,000 in this latest haul came from interests pushing for the legalization of sweepstakes machines in Chicago. Some of these donors are linked to registered lobbyist Maze Jackson, whose name pops up like a bad penny in any conversation involving City Hall and sketchy political donations.
Oh, and for those worried about ethics? Don’t be. The city’s 2024 law banning lobbyist donations to mayors only applies to individuals, not to the corporate fronts they hide behind. Classic Chicago.
A finance chair who won’t leave
One subplot that perfectly encapsulates Johnson’s cluelessness is the ongoing saga of his campaign finance chair, Cook County Commissioner Tara Stamps.
Back in February, following reports that her role as Johnson’s fundraiser posed a conflict with her position in the Chicago Teachers Union (which, of course, owns Johnson’s administration), Stamps pledged to step down.
She still hasn’t.
Despite public statements and supposed intent, no resignation filing has been made. Not even the bare minimum of bureaucratic paperwork. Stamps remains listed as the chair. The reason? Maybe she forgot. Maybe she doesn’t care. Or maybe, just maybe, nobody in this administration is actually in charge of anything.
Add this to the pile of past-due campaign finance reports, $18,000 in fines from his County Board days, and a general lack of professional oversight, and you start to get the picture: Brandon Johnson isn’t just politically out of his depth. He’s administratively incapable.
Given the sloppiness and subterfuge involved with Johnson’s fundraising, one wonders if the gangs in this town, which have arguably been major beneficiaries of Johnson’s social justice agenda, aren’t stuffing cash in somebody’s pockets. It would certainly be easy for them given their prodigious drug money rake and might explain why drug dealing has gone on unmolested for these many years.
Giannoulias and Mendoza: The adults in the room
Giannoulias and Mendoza may be gearing up for their 2026 reelection races, but make no mistake — both are keeping one eye on City Hall. Their fundraising power and deep political ties signal serious intent.
Giannoulias is slick, polished, and well-connected, with longstanding support from organized labor and progressive donors. His appeal spans age and race, and unlike Johnson, he doesn’t seem to alienate voters outside his base.
Mendoza brings a different kind of firepower — a South Side native with city government experience, a no-frills communicator, and someone who, unlike Johnson, can tell you the difference between an expense line and a revenue stream.
In a Mendoza–Giannoulias showdown, it’s easy to see two competent, electable candidates duking it out over real issues. Either could restore some badly needed adult supervision to a city that’s had enough symbolic politics and utopian nonsense.
But that only happens if Brandon Johnson doesn’t make the runoff.
The CTU connection — still paying off
Despite the stumbles, Johnson still enjoys some support from his base, namely the CORE caucus pulling the strings at the Chicago Teachers Union and its many political tentacles. In January, the CTU and its affiliates contributed $3,500 to Johnson’s campaign, a mere trickle compared to the flood of cash that got Johnson elected. Perhaps the union will resume its prodigious spending as we get closer to the election, or perhaps they figure they got what they wanted out of Johnson and can discard him like a used shell casing.
Method Health Corp., a rebranded entity founded by Johnson’s economic development lead Charles Smith, threw in $12,000.
The cozy intermingling of campaign, city office, and union cash continues — but the public is getting wise. The mayor’s ongoing failures in public safety, housing, and education are starting to register with voters outside the CTU’s bubble.
And the most recent polling (as quietly circulated in donor circles) suggests Mendoza, in particular, is emerging as the most viable non-Johnson alternative in a crowded 2027 field.
Time to choose
There’s still time. But not much.
Brandon Johnson will continue to rake in money from out-of-town donors, gambling interests, and his CTU allies. He’ll continue to stumble through controversies, filings, and false starts.
And unless voters and donors consolidate around a credible alternative, we risk letting a deeply unpopular incumbent limp into a runoff and cling to power.
Let’s not make that mistake.
Between Giannoulias and Mendoza, Chicago has options. Grown-up options. Mendoza, in particular, is emerging as the consensus candidate for those who want competent leadership without the ideological theater.
Ideally, Mendoza will establish a dominant lead in polling that might make Giannoulias drop out, but that’s an unlikely scenario. So the best voting strategy at this point is anybody but Johnson, but lean toward Mendoza
So follow the money. It’s pointing to change — and not a moment too soon.