Before we became the “model minority,” Indian Americans were once considered the “problem minority.” Accounts from the late 19th and 20th centuries, for example, called early Punjabi and Bengali migrant farm workers everything from “undesirable” to “effeminate, caste-ridden, and degraded.”
From being barred from naturalization and citizenship rights in the 1920s to holding positions at the forefront of political and corporate power today, Indian Americans have come a long way. However, not all members of the South Asian diaspora have benefited equally — and some prominent Indian Americans may be widening that divide by allying with conservative white Americans who support crackdowns on other immigrant communities.
The median annual income of Indian-headed households was $151,200 in 2023 — nearly double the figure for the country at large. There’s immense pride about that among the community — but I often question how beneficial it really has been to the whole South Asian diaspora. Alongside these more prosperous Indian American families, many South Asians work as taxi drivers, restaurant workers, cashiers, small business owners, and delivery workers, among other low-wage professions.
These South Asian immigrants also bear the costs of having fewer protections, experiencing more exploitation, and working for lower wages. That’s reflected in official poverty statistics. As of 2025, about 6 percent of Indians in the U.S. lived in poverty. Compare that to 9 percent of Nepalese, 9 percent of Sri Lankans, 12 percent of Pakistanis, and 14 percent of Bangladeshis in this country.
All South Asian communities in this country are descended from immigrants seeking a better life in the United States. But the U.S. government has always been selective about who’s allowed to thrive in this country. From 1965 to the late 1970s, a large wave of Indians immigrated to the U.S. after Congress passed sweeping immigration reforms that ended decades of discriminatory immigration restrictions on South Asians and many other nonwhite migrants.
Following these reforms, the U.S. opened the door especially for highly skilled, highly qualified — and in practice, often upper caste — Indians. This group consisted of physicians, engineers, and lawyers, who were able to gain educational and financial success and settle in suburban neighborhoods, becoming the “model minority.”
Yet while upper-caste Indians remained the majority among Indian immigrants, later immigration pathways — including the Diversity Visa program, which was launched in the 1990s to increase immigration from countries historically underrepresented in the U.S. immigration system — also brought many South Asians from historically marginalized caste backgrounds. Having had less access to education, wealth, and professional networks before migrating, many entered lower-paying jobs and faced greater economic hardship and discrimination in the United States.
This further separated upper-caste Indians from the rest of the South Asian diaspora, as upper-caste Indians were able to better assimilate into American culture and gain capital. Meanwhile, many conservative, affluent Indian Hindus have found allies in the conservative white Christians who dominate much of the GOP political class and uphold a capitalistic system that upper-caste Indians also value.
My family members, like many other Indian Americans, would credit our success to our deep-rooted values of hard work, discipline, and family. But I don’t often see that praise in the Indian American community extended to low-wage South Asian workers, who are just as hardworking and family- oriented.
Instead, we now see a rise of conservative Indian American politicians actively participating in anti-immigration rhetoric.
During his presidential run, Republican Vivek Ramaswamy stated he would “gut” the H1-B program and revoke birthright citizenship, just like President Donald Trump attempted. Others, such as former South Carolina governor Nikki Haley and FBI director Kash Patel, have expressed support for hardline immigration enforcement and funding ICE.
Of course, this is hypocritical. Privileged and higher caste individuals have benefited from U.S. immigration policies more than poorer South Asian immigrants have.
Yet no matter how much conservative, wealthy Indian American politicians assimilate to America’s ruling class, they will never escape this country’s racism. Upper caste politicians like Vivek Ramaswamy have faced massive online racism, with people telling him to “go back to India.” Even being married to Vice President JD Vance hasn’t spared Usha Vance from anti-Asian rhetoric, with MAGA supporters criticizing Vance for marrying someone “non-white”.
In short, even being a “model minority” isn’t a ticket out of experiencing racism. The “model minority myth” is a political tool to hide America’s systematic discrimination, maintain racial hierarchies, and mask the economic struggles South Asian communities have always disproportionately experienced.
It’s time to change the status quo in our community, build solidarity, and hold our leaders accountable.
Other leaders are modeling this different way forward. New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani and Reps. Ro Khanna (D-CA) and Pramila Jayapal (D-WA) have all expressed pride in their Indian heritage. All have also fiercely criticized the Trump administration’s crackdown on immigrant communities while embracing an economic agenda to empower working people whatever their race, color, religion, or immigration status. Their message is clear: those struggles are linked.
We need to look towards these South Asian figures, hold them accountable, and challenge the racist and classist mindsets of others in our communities. Most importantly, we need to understand that our struggles are interconnected. We are over a billion people with a deep history of struggles and liberation. By being united, we can bring progress and beauty to this world.
Ramya Gosike is a Henry A. Wallace Fellow at the Institute for Policy Studies.
