“Indians go home”. That was the mantra of the Make America Great Again (MAGA) crowd this year. Indian Americans listened, and they did go home, not to India, but back to the Democratic Party they have long supported. In doing so, they have begun to redraw the map of American politics. And they may finally be ready to shed their meekness and speak up.
They have just shaken the foundation of New York City. Zohran Mamdani, 34, the son of filmmaker Mira Nair, won the mayor’s race by a landslide, defeating former governor Andrew Cuomo. He will be the city’s first Muslim mayor, its first of Indian descent, and its youngest leader in more than a century.
His victory marks the moment a community that had long stayed quiet under fire finally found its voice, living out the stories his mother once told on screen about identity, belonging, and courage.
What makes Mamdani’s story remarkable is that it seemed right out of a Bollywood melodrama. With his signature smile, he didn’t just campaign; he performed. He blared Kishore Kumar at block parties, quoted Lagaan on perseverance, and turned policy debates into dance-offs. His rallies looked less like stump speeches and more like My Name Is Khan with campaign signs. Punjabi aunties swayed beside Puerto Rican students and Black union workers, all shouting his name, all part of the same beat. His campaign could have been directed by Karan Johar, equal parts family drama, social change, and a big dance number to dhoom machale dhoom for the final.
And somewhere between bhangra and the ballots, something shifted.
For decades, Indian Americans have carved out their place in the American dream, showing, in true Shah Rukh Khan fashion, that charm and resilience can outlast hate. Educated, family-oriented, and mostly apolitical, we became the model minority every politician wanted to claim. Traditionally we leaned Democratic, but in recent years many began to look rightward. The language of discipline, entrepreneurship, and family values felt closer to our lived experience than the Democrats’ fixation on sickening cultural battles.
I felt that pull myself. Since I came to America in 1980, I have voted Democratic, yet I sat out the last presidential election. I was uneasy about President Joe Biden’s age and lack of direction. At the same time, I found myself agreeing with parts of the Republican message.
Donald Trump’s talk of family, faith, and his warnings about socialism struck a chord. For those of us who grew up in, or visited India, “socialism” was not an abstract ideology, it was an ugly reality of ration lines, shortages, and corrupt bureaucrats deciding what people could eat or earn. Many of my friends and relatives lived through those nightmares and left because of them.
For a while, I thought the Republican Party might finally open its doors to immigrants like me and to people like Nikki Haley, Vivek Ramaswamy, and Usha Vance, who had built their lives from scratch.
That hope did not last.
Over the past year, the MAGA movement turned its anger on the very group it once courted. Influencers like Laura Loomer began targeting Indian professionals. Members of Congress such as Marjorie Taylor Greene called for ending all H-1B visas, claiming that Indians were “stealing American jobs”. Online trolls mocked our accents, ridiculed our temples, and questioned our loyalty. The message was clear: No matter how much we contributed, we would never be American enough.
The hypocrisy is staggering. Indian Americans, less than two percent of the population, contribute nearly six percent of all federal income taxes. Our median household income is almost double the national average. CEOs of Indian heritage now lead 16 Fortune 500 companies that together generate over a trillion dollars in annual revenue.
From small-business owners who sustain local economies to scientists, engineers, and physicians who hold up hospitals and universities, no immigrant group has done more to strengthen America. We believed that hard work and contribution would secure equality. To be told to “go home” after decades of effort feels like betrayal.
In Edison, New Jersey, the heart of the Indian diaspora, voters responded to that insult. In 2024, one precinct there backed Donald Trump by 30 points. This month, Democrat Mikie Sherrill won it by 76, a swing of 106 points. The vote had nothing to do with policy; it came from pride.
Indian Americans are, however, returning to the Democrats for reasons that have little to do with party loyalty. The shift is driven by a need for respect and belonging, not blind faith in progressive politics.
The Democratic Party talks about inclusion but has lost touch with the middle class it once championed. It has also drifted from the family values that hold immigrant communities together. It has become captive to its loudest extremes, chasing culture wars while ignoring the daily struggles of working families.
Many parents, including immigrants like me, are bewildered by school debates over boys in girls’ locker rooms while basic education standards decline.
Mamdani’s win captures both sides of this new reality. It reflects a community that has found confidence and voice, yet it also exposes the risks of ideology untethered from pragmatism. His promise to open government-run stores may sound compassionate, but anyone who remembers India’s old socialist model and ration shops knows how that story ends.
Bureaucracy and populism may win applause in the short term, but they are the enemies of progress. They hollow out innovation, crush aspiration, and turn the dream of equality into the mediocrity of dependence.
Republicans, for their part, still have an opening if they can put aside outrage and rediscover the ideas that once defined them: enterprise, merit, and optimism. But until they do, the voters they alienated will keep their distance.
Mamdani’s rise is a moment of pride for Indian Americans, yet it highlights a paradox. The same ideals that inspire hope can also repeat the mistakes of the socialist India that some of its best and brightest left behind.
Vivek Wadhwa is CEO, Vionix Biosciences. The views expressed are personal
