I dreamed of this many Indian Americans in politics. I'm heartbroken by the reality. | Opinion
Instead of authentic leaders, what I overwhelmingly see is a band of characters with questionable morals thirsty for the spotlight and a taste of power.
As a high-achieving group with an iron-clad will set on actualizing the American dream, it was only a matter of time before Indian Americans became politically active en masse.
There’s Bobby Jindal, who made history by becoming the first Indian American governor in the United States. An ultraconservative, born-again Roman Catholic, Jindal shunned his ethnicity and notoriously lobbied against issues like women’s right to choose and gun control.
Fast-forward and now Kash Patel – a far-right conspiracy theorist with little-to-no government or national security experience before landing in Donald Trump's first presidential administration – was recently nominated to lead the FBI by the reelected president. Known as the man who will do anything for Trump, Patel’s vague agenda includes score settling and political vengeance; prosecuting journalists for their investigative work or cleaning out career FBI officials in his quest against the “deep state.”
Then we have former presidential hopeful Vivek Ramaswamy, who will head a freshly concocted Department of Government Efficiency alongside Elon Musk. The right-wing entrepreneur gained political traction by positioning himself as a climate change denier, against birthright citizenship and “anti-woke,” among other polarizing views.
Let’s not forget about attorney Usha Vance – the wife of Vice President-elect JD Vance – who stands by silently as her husband churns out endless waves of racism. Or former U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations Nikki Haley, who wrote “Finish Them, America (Loves) Israel Always!” on an Israeli missile intended for Hamas earlier this year.
I should be thrilled by Indian American representation. I'm not.
Throughout young adulthood, my ears would perk up every time I heard an Indian-sounding name mentioned on the news, my eyes eager to see someone who looked like me – someone Indian American with brown skin and black hair – make it big.
As the daughter of immigrants I, perhaps optimistically, believed that Indians born in the United States had the unique potential to channel our rich cultural upbringing, hyphenated identity and strong values into positive social and political change.
I should be thrilled about the rising representation of Indian Americans in politics. Unfortunately, I am not.
Instead of authentic leaders, what I overwhelmingly see is a band of characters with questionable morals thirsty for the spotlight and a taste of power. These characters are known to change their names – phonetically or visually – and modify their demeanor to become publicly palatable.
What I hear are inflammatory statements and destructive policies formed in a desperate bid to belong. They skew toward whiteness and white spaces, turning a blind eye to the struggles of their forefathers in an attempt to fit in and break past the “model minority.”
The United States has a long history of disenfranchising individuals of color, making it nearly impossible for racial and ethnic minorities to vote or hold office. It wasn’t until 1870 that the 15th Amendment extended voting privileges beyond white men. Still, due to constitutional loopholes, literacy tests, intimidation tactics and a “grandfather clause,” representation of Black men remained low.
And although the ratification of the 19th Amendment in 1920 purportedly removed sex-based limitations to voting, its aftereffects were not felt until 1965, when the Voting Rights Act expanded it to adult citizens of all races and genders.
That same year, the Immigration and Nationality Act abolished the national origins quota system – or annual quotas for the number of visas available to immigrants from each country – to prioritize family reunification and the importation of skilled workers, spurring on a “fourth wave” of immigration and contributing to the diversification of the American population.
This is the same wave that brought a significant influx of post-colonial, post-graduate English-speaking Indian immigrants, propelling Indians from one of the lowest educated populations in the United States to a leading force in science, technology, engineering and mathematics.
Political Indian Americans pulling ladder up behind them as they climb
Culturally, an entrenched emphasis on values like education and family has led Indian Americans to become the second-largest immigrant group in the United States, with a population exceeding 5 million and a median annual household income of $153,000 ‒ or more than double the national figure.
Indian Americans are considered the most educated racial group in the United States: 82% of Indian Americans ages 25 to 55 are college-educated, compared with just 42% of white Americans who have a degree.
Education is seen as a path to prosperity, which in turn unlocks power, access and privilege.
Now, decades later, endowed with a distinct concoction of generational wealth, Indians have been, and will likely continue to be, prosperous in the United States. Indian immigrants – though mostly men – have become CEOs of Fortune 500 companies like Pepsi Co., Google (Alphabet), Adobe, IBM and Microsoft, propelling corporations to new heights in market capitalization.
Those who were shut out by corporate jobs or health professions sought other ways to earn a living and achieve success, including entrepreneurship in retail, hotels, restaurants and convenience stores while others entered nontraditional fields like entertainment or politics.
For the sake of brevity, I am going to speak in absolutes and assume that all Indians residing in the United States are doing well – though I know that’s not always the case. (Immigration policy has historically favored upper-caste and socioeconomically privileged Indians, giving them an advantage above those who may not have the means.)
What’s disappointing is that, despite having finances, rights and education, we have descendants of Indian immigrants – oftentimes wealthy entrepreneurs or CEOs – lobbying or voting against the key policies, like immigration and equality, that gave them the privilege to rise to positions of power in the first place. Their blatant disregard for their roots is, frankly, tacky and tone-deaf.
I’m not seeking perfection, as I understand that’s a ridiculous expectation to have. However, I do expect some level of decorum and morality from my community – especially those seated in the upper echelons of the U.S. government.
According to the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, the Indian community is now being actively targeted by political donors, activists and parties from across the spectrum, both Democratic and Republican. Our political malleability is dangerous and has far-reaching consequences. For instance, we have the power to make a marginal difference in key battleground states like Pennsylvania and Michigan.
I can stomach someone like Vice President Kamala Harris, who has long identified as Black but chooses to profit from her Indianism in order to gain votes. I can also vouch for Indian American progressives – Reps. Pramila Jayapal and Ro Khanna – who advocate for women’s rights, education, immigration and gun safety despite knowing it won’t get them on a presidential ticket.
What I cannot deal with is selfishness or willful ignorance – the urge to focus on entrenched partisan beliefs and place issues like inflation or taxes above all – while knowing full well the downstream impact that irresponsible representation may have on our country as a whole. We can and must do better.
Isha Sharma is a first-generation Indian American writer based in Brooklyn, New York. A Case Western Reserve University and Georgetown University graduate, she aims to highlight and advocate for underrepresented voices in mainstream media. Follow her on Instagram: @isha__sharma