Racism Against South Asian Americans: A Canary in A Coal Mine

By: Antara Varna

Photo by Scott Olson/ Getty Images

Many of us, as South Asian Americans, were raised with the belief that we could earn our way into American acceptance.: If you kept your head down, studied, became a lawyer, doctor, or scientist, paid your bills, and ignored the slights—America would take you in its capitalist arms and accept you. This is the ‘shelter of usefulness’; as long as you can offer exceptional economic value, no one can question your right to be here, playing your hand in the Great American Experiment. However, in recent years, this security has been falling apart, with anti-South Asian sentiment, racism, and hate speech increasing at a staggering rate.

Between January 2023 and August 2024, the number of anti-South Asian slurs in extremist online spaces doubled from 23,000 to over 46,000 slurs and 60% of anti-Asian slurs were directed at South Asians. In August 2024 alone, 730 out of 973 online threats made against Asians were against South Asians. Following the murder of Srinivas Kuchibhotla (2017), Jaahnavi Kandula (2023), Amaranth Ghosh (2024), Mohammad Abdul Arfath (2024), and Vivek Taneja (2024), it became clear that this increased violence was not isolated to digital spaces. 

But what exactly happened? How did South Asians morph from a model minority to anathema? 

The most basic change was an increase in representation. The Indian-American population, for instance, increased 50% nationally from 2010 to 2020, becoming the largest single-origin Asian-American group. This increase in population is reflected in the political sphere as well, with Indian-Americans having the highest Asian-American voter turnout in 2020 at 71% and occupying 4.4% of senior government positions in 2023. If you followed the past election, you are likely familiar with names like Kamala Harris, Vivek Ramaswamy, Usha Vance, Nikki Haley, Tulsi Gabbard, Kash Patel, and Sriram Krishnan, whose South Asian roots generated widespread, often negative, attention. 

In fact, online threats of violence towards South Asians peaked in August 2024, immediately after Usha Vance appeared at the RNC and Kamala Harris was nominated for President, suggesting that an increased visibility of South Asians in positions of political power correlates to increased racism. 

This relationship also tends to hold true with positions of financial power. Initially, South Asian Americans carved a respected niche as pioneers in tech, research, and development. Now, in a post-COVID world of AI, job scarcity, outsourcing, and a news cycle that warns of recession on the daily, occupying productive sectors as a South Asian is perceived not as a sign of hard work, but as evidence that true White American intellectual hegemony is being threatened by “third world invaders.” Hard times seek scapegoats, and now, in the race for employment, AI, semiconductors, and quantum computing, South Asian Americans are easy marks. 

Finally, one key factor that exacerbates racism against South Asian Americans is the proliferation and normalization of anti-South Asian hate speech. One study on Anti-Indian hate speech on X revealed that out of 128 posts found in violation of X’s policies for “inciting fear” and spreading “slurs, tropes, and dehumanization,” 75% came from verified accounts and out of 84 accounts, only one was moderated or penalized in any capacity. Furthermore, the study found that not only was there a lack of moderation, but that “posts expressing hate towards Indians…[were] being amplified to users who do not follow the account.” The consequences of this normalization were evident in the recent controversy over 25-year-old government official Marko Elez, who after posting that we should “Normalize Indian Hate” and implement a “eugenic immigration policy,” was written off as a “kid” making “stupid jokes” and retained as a member of the DOGE’s Treasury branch. Whether it be advocating for eugenics, commenting slurs,  or “jokes” about deodorant and suicide jackets, each unpenalized instance of racism creates an environment where hatred is considered acceptable or even socially rewarding. 

Above all, this is a time for action, for policy that cuts through the haze of fear and social media and change and takes a clear stand against bigotry. One such exemplar policy is New York’s “Stop Hiding Hate” Act which was signed into law in December of 2024. As per the act, social media platforms are required to submit regular reports disclosing how they define and identify hate speech, their policies against hate speech, and the structure of their enforcement mechanisms, whether it be AI algorithms or human moderators. Most importantly, they are required to disclose quantitative data on the quantity of content that is flagged and removed and the frequency at which action is taken against individuals found responsible for hate speech. In other words, this act ensures that platforms are backing their nominal protections against hate speech with genuine action. It is a compelling action against online discrimination, one that if replicated in other states, could provide invaluable protection for not only South Asian Americans, but for all groups threatened by digital extremism and hate. 

All things considered, it is important that we see this rise in racism against South Asian Americans not as an isolated incident, but as a canary in a coal mine, warning us that the proto-typical American identity —a classless, raceless, identity defined by one’s ‘grit’ and ability to take risks— is falling apart. Now, it is up to us to, through fresh policies and paradigms, create a new conception of the American identity. What is it we value? 

When all is said and done, what does America truly stand for?

The views expressed in this publication are the authors' own and do not necessarily reflect the position of The Rice Journal of Public Policy, its staff, or its Editorial Board.