Between Silence and Solidarity: Indian Americans and Trump’s anti-India Spleen

When U.S. President Donald Trump launched into one of his familiar tirades against India, complaining about high tariffs, restricting H-1B visas, taking undue credit for mediating an India–Pakistan clash, cozying up to Pakistan, and even linking India’s legitimate oil purchases from Russia to the war in Ukraine, there was one conspicuous silence: that of Indian Americans.

This silence is striking, because India takes immense pride in its diaspora. Every prime ministerial visit to the United States is marked by grand events with packed stadiums, where Indian Americans are paraded as symbols of shared success. Many in this group studied in subsidized Indian universities, maintain collaborations with Indian institutions, and some even invest back home. Yet, when India is publicly berated, or when Indians themselves are targeted in the U.S., their political response is muted.

Brain Drain

The unease is not new. In the mid-twentieth century, the large-scale migration of Indian doctors, engineers, and scientists to the West was condemned as ‘brain drain.’ Economist R. N. Dandekar even suggested levying a tax on emigrants to recover the cost of their subsidized education. Though never implemented, the proposal captured the resentment of a developing nation that invested heavily in its brightest minds, only to see them flourish abroad. This anxiety had historical roots in colonial-era policies, when Indian students were trained for administrative or medical roles to serve the empire, only to find their skills in demand abroad after independence.

Today, the script has flipped. Indian Americans are celebrated as ‘brain gain.’ They lead global corporations, excel in academia, and even hold elected office in the U.S. Their success bolsters India’s image as a talent hub. But celebration can easily blur into overdependence, where India basks in diaspora glory without examining the true balance of give and take. Historically, similar patterns were seen with other post-colonial states, from Ireland to the Philippines, which alternately lamented the loss of skilled labour and later leveraged their diaspora for trade and soft power.

Numbering nearly five million, Indian Americans are now the second-largest immigrant group in the United States. They enjoy the highest median household income among all ethnic groups, about $141,000, nearly double the U.S. average, and are among the largest taxpayers. Their success stories are global headlines: Sundar Pichai at Google, Satya Nadella at Microsoft, Shantanu Narayen at Adobe. Politically, the community has gained visibility too: five members in the U.S. Congress and Vice President Kamala Harris of partial Indian heritage.

For all these achievements, however, the community remains politically fragmented. Unlike Jewish Americans, who built powerful lobbies to defend both their homeland and their own security, Indian Americans have yet to translate numbers and wealth into unified political influence. he contrast is stark given the historical role of Jewish lobbying in shaping U.S. foreign policy post-World War II, including support for the creation of Israel and subsequent defence initiatives.

Critics argue that influence must carry responsibility. When Jewish, Irish, or Chinese communities perceive their homelands being criticized, they mobilize powerful lobbies and shape the public discourse. Indian Americans, by contrast, have often preferred to remain apolitical, channeling energy into cultural festivals, temples, and alumni networks rather than into organized political advocacy.

This caution is surprising at a time when hate crimes against Indians in the U.S. are on the rise, from assaults on students to attacks on Sikh and Hindu businesses. Indians back home are increasingly uneasy: if their most prosperous expatriates, among the highest taxpayers in America, cannot build an influential political bloc to safeguard themselves, what hope is there of defending India’s dignity abroad? The Jewish community is frequently cited as a model: a smaller population that nonetheless commands disproportionate influence in U.S. politics. Why cannot Indian Americans, with greater numbers and comparable prosperity, achieve something similar, not necessarily for India, but at least for their own survival? Historically, immigrant communities that faced discrimination often responded by organizing politically; for instance, Irish and Italian immigrants in the early twentieth century used local politics to secure social mobility and protection.

Part of the answer lies in the diaspora’s evolving political trajectory. For decades, Indian Americans leaned overwhelmingly Democratic. Surveys by Pew Research Center consistently showed support levels of 65 to 70 percent, shaped by their immigrant experience, faith in diversity, and belief in public education.

But as the community has grown wealthier and more established, a drift toward Republican conservatism has emerged. Trump, paradoxically, accelerated this trend. Despite his harsh words on tariffs and his tightening of H-1B visas, he courted Indian Americans with symbolic gestures like the ‘Howdy, Modi’ rally in Houston and his hard stance on China. Among wealthier business owners and conservative Hindus, a soft Trumpism took root, valuing his rhetoric on terrorism, deregulation, and strategic partnership with India more than his hostile immigration policies.

This pattern is not unique. Many immigrant groups begin with Democratic loyalties and gradually tilt Republican as they climb the socioeconomic ladder. What makes Indian Americans different is that, despite their growing numbers and wealth, they remain divided by profession, religion, and ideology. This fragmentation has prevented them from converting success into collective influence, leaving them vulnerable in U.S. politics and hesitant in defending India abroad.

Still, it may be unrealistic to expect the diaspora to serve as India’s informal diplomats. Indian Americans are U.S. citizens first, and their political risks are shaped by the American system. To take on a sitting president, or to aggressively lobby on foreign policy, carries heavy costs. Silence, then, may be less indifference and more survival strategy.

Nor are their contributions absent. India remains the world’s largest recipient of remittances, with flows surpassing USD 135 billion in 2024. Philanthropists and professional associations fund hospitals, scholarships, and start-ups. CEOs of Indian origin, though not diaspora lobbyists, still create enormous soft power for India through their visibility. These quieter contributions, while less dramatic than lobbying, are substantial.

Rethinking expectations

Perhaps the real issue is one of expectations. New Delhi often assumes that Indian Americans will rise as defenders of its image abroad. But the diaspora can be cultural ambassadors, economic partners, and knowledge bridges without necessarily being political shields.

At the same time, the absence of a strong, organized Indian American political caucus leaves the community itself exposed to hate crimes, discriminatory visa policies, and misrepresentation. Even modest efforts at collective lobbying, focused on safety, immigration reform, and representation, would strengthen their standing in the U.S. and indirectly serve India’s interests.

For India, the way forward is to move beyond stadium spectacles and build structured avenues for diaspora engagement: investment platforms, permanent policy forums, and academic collaborations. For Indian Americans, the choice is between remaining satisfied as “model minorities,” economically successful but politically subdued, or building organized influence to secure both their own future in the U.S. and India’s dignity abroad.

Silence may be safe. But solidarity, expressed with balance and courage, has the power to reshape both their future in America and India’s image in the world. After all, a community that prides itself on producing global CEOs should also be capable of producing a collective voice, one that speaks not only for India, but for itself.

(Dr. Kishore Paknikar is the former Director, Agharkar Research Institute, Pune and Visiting Professor, IIT Bombay. Views personal.)