Summer of 2015. My father, visiting me in New York from India, was watching an American news television network. A surprisingly large number of candidates – a field of ten out of the original seventeen – trooped onto stage for the first Republican primary debate. Turning to me, my father said that America was going to like businessman Donald Trump for the direct manner in which he spoke about topics such as offshoring of American jobs and Islamic extremism. I was quick to respond that Trump was far from being the front-runner. Quoting the analysts I had been reading, I said that he was widely seen as “a showman”, plausibly only in the race to help increase the ratings of his television show, The Apprentice.
The unanimous opinion of pundits, I remember telling my father, was that Trump would only be able to generate a “small populist following”, if that.
The Guardian wrote in 2015 that Republican leaders were worried that “his (Trump’s) inclusion would turn Republican primary debates into a circus”. Soon enough that circus became one that the country got addicted to. Trump did not disappoint. A cavalcade of controversies later, voters were transfixed by the spectacle. A year later, by the time I was assigned by Times Now to cover the US presidential race, Trump had resoundingly won the Republican nomination.
‘Political Correctness’ and Republican Desperation
Clearly, my retired father visiting from India had caught on to Trump’s American appeal more astutely than I had after twelve years of living and reporting in the country. For that matter, he’d understood the tumultuous dynamics of the lead-up to the presidential primary cycle better than most pundits. Many would argue later it was the surge of transfixed eyeballs that eventually translated into votes for Trump, that his mastery over spectacle had helped him win the presidency. This phenomenon will likely continue to be studied in political science and mass media classes.
In 2016, steeped in coverage of the American electoral race, it was now my job to bring both sides of the story to viewers. Speaking equally to Democrats and Republicans, to folks who despised Trump and others who were impressed with him, I sought to explore and explain the wide set of factors behind this businessman’s surprising, surging popularity. Blue-collar workers in Long Island, whom I interviewed, emphasised their distrust of Hillary Clinton. They argued that if the FBI director James Comey didn’t seem to trust her, how could they? Yes, they conceded they didn’t always like the tone Trump used, or his harsh rhetoric. But they were convinced he would represent their interests, their jobs, their lives, and their safety. And why shouldn’t they be represented, they asked.
They told me they were tired of the political correctness of American leaders that they felt came at the cost of many working-class white Americans.
I also spoke to well-heeled, rich Republicans in one of the few Republican counties in New Jersey, Monmouth, who were convinced Trump would be better for them on the tax front. This wasn’t new or surprising. Most Republicans favour lower individual and business taxes. But they were convinced that Trump would deliver on this promise more effectively than other contenders like Jeb Bush. Moreover, they were eager for a Republican victory after eight years of a Democrat in the White House. They were convinced that Trump would be able to ignite the Republican base in a way that other seemingly promising Republicans like Ted Cruz, Marco Rubio and Mike Huckabee hadn’t been able to. They were looking for a candidate who would prioritise American concerns, they said, and Trump was the right man for the job.
Resistance Galvanised
We all inhabit different skins, different cloaks at different times. I am a reporter. When I report on elections, my job is to cover all sides. But I’m also an Indian woman living in America. I was excited at the prospect the country getting its first female president. America seemed excited too. Many saw Clinton’s victory as inevitable. They were sure that history was going to be made on 8 November 2016.
But the highest glass ceiling remained unbroken in one of the world’s oldest democracies. The next day, 9 November, after I had been on the electoral beat for days, I finally returned home to Brooklyn. It was the fourth US presidential election I had covered but I’d never seen something quite like this. Brooklyn wasn’t just worried, it was downright fearful of some of Trump’s policies. The mood was dark. The rumblings of resistance were immediate and resounding.
I was invited to join a writer’s/artist’s group that met in living rooms over potlucks to discuss how they could push back on Trump’s agenda. I never went for a meeting but I marveled at the passionate social commitment of my fellow Brooklynites. Activism was keen and everywhere. I overheard worried political conversations at my neighborhood café. I watched the engaged activism of fellow parents at my son’s school. I saw a motivated mother organise 4-year-olds around a dining table, helping them make bright cards adorned with heart cutouts in support of Yemeni storeowners in Brooklyn. This was after Trump announced a temporary ban on visa-holders and green card-holders from seven predominantly Muslim countries, including Yemen.
I watched as Brooklynites marched and resisted.
Racism, a Trickle-Down Effect
I confess I live in a bubble, a bubble called New York. An even bigger bubble within New York is Brooklyn - an egalitarian, diverse community of engaged, socially motivated folks. This liberal bubble doesn’t represent vast chunks of America. No one place could represent America; it is not a monolith, just as India isn’t either. No one in Brooklyn looked at my brown skin differently the day after the 2016 presidential elections, or the next.
But they did in other towns, in other places across America.
Stories of racism or perceived racism trickled in. I could sense real fear amidst immigrants in diverse parts of this vast country.
I felt none of it myself. My life continued as it had before.
A few months later, the tentacles of anxiety that Trump’s policies and provocative statements have sown, eventually did find their way to me too. Trump wasn’t only intent on cracking down on illegal immigration; in keeping with his campaign promise of securing American jobs for Americans, he planned on curtailing legal immigration as well. Legal immigration in the US is a notoriously slow process. There was wide concern that his policies were going to make it even more difficult.
For many Indians living in America, legal immigration is astonishingly cumbersome. Every country has a fixed quota for employment-based green cards. Given the large number of technically skilled Indians working in the US, this quota gets filled up very quickly, creating a stifling backlog lasting many years.
I had built a life in New York for over thirteen years. I had two little American sons. I had applied in 2016 for a green card and was approved a day before Trump was sworn in. But I didn’t have the green card in hand yet. My immigration lawyer made no promises. He said that the United States Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS) was implementing so many changes, it was unclear and uncertain as to whether the new policies might impact approved green card applications. Would my husband’s approved green card and mine be delayed further? And if so – for how long? Or worse still – would those precious residency cards not arrive altogether?
As it turned out, our specific fears were unrealised. We did receive our green cards in the mail this past October. And with the cards came a strong surge of relief. I’m grateful for residency in a country that I’ve studied in, worked in, paid taxes in, bought and sold property in, and given birth in. But my individual story takes place in parallel with many other not-so-happy stories. I know Indian friends who worry about their US prospects and the backlog in legal immigration.
Is This the Same America?
I’m grateful for my Brooklyn bubble, for residency. But as a parent, I ponder about the example the current US president is setting – the lewd stories, the barrage of careless tweets. For me, there’s a surreal aspect to it. As I watched former US president Barack Obama the other night in his first post-presidency talk show chat with David Letterman, I was struck once again by the contrast between these two men. The bombast associated with Trump was startlingly absent. Obama was poised, elegant, thoughtful and yes, deeply presidential. The disparity in styles and restraint is all the more remarkable given the boggling variety of controversies Trump and his presidency have been mired in.
I’m not part of any specific movement. I haven’t joined any marches or rallies. I have reported on American politics as objectively as possible for many years and will continue to do so. But that doesn’t mean that I am not personally invested. I am and will be watching especially the long-term impact of Trump’s environmental policies, including climate change. I’m also deeply aware that cycles exist both in nature and in politics. The anti-incumbency factor is well-known in India. Could a more measured force of another kind in the 2020 presidential race replace the ranting force of nature that is Trump?
There is widespread doubt now more than ever about the foundational principles of America. Many in the international community wonder how America could vote for Trump in the first place. What does it say about Americans, they ask.
They argue that America isn’t leading the world any more; that it is on the downswing, that it is no longer a welcome place for immigrants.
If Nothing Else, a Lesson: Every Vote Matters
History cannot be predicted, regardless of the astuteness of analysts. That said – the idea of America, in my mind, remains strong at its roots. Immigrants have built this country; it continues to be built by them even now. I don’t think there is any other country in the world that has so many different races and ethnicities living and working side by side. The diversity of human heritage in America is unparalleled. Even though it falls under magical realism, a book I read recently – “American Gods” by Neil Gaiman – hauntingly depicts the roots of this varied American heritage and the array of beliefs that were bought over by immigrants.
I do feel genuinely welcome in America. I’ve had amazing opportunities, made wonderful friends. And I strongly believe that regardless of the raging doubt, the founding idea of America remains robust. I think the example of Trump’s unexpected electoral victory taught an important lesson to voters. It taught them that one has to continue to stay engaged. Post-election data crunching showed that a vast majority of democratic youth who were mobilised by the young African-American senator Barack Obama in 2008, had not been as engaged with Hillary Clinton’s campaign in 2016. Yet, they were confident that Trump couldn’t beat her. They were engaged in liberal ideas but not engaged enough with this particular democratic presidential candidate.
Trump’s surprise victory proved a clear message – even if a particular candidate is not appealing, commitment to your chosen cause should remain robust. Your vote matters, your activism matters, as does your hashtag.
I see robust debate and volunteerism in huge waves in America. I see a sustained effort to combat the debilitating impact of fake news. And I see that the country which I have grown to admire, the United States of America, forcefully resisting waves of division and hate.
Recently, there was fear that an estimated 750,000 Indian H-1B visa holders would be forced to deport while awaiting green card approvals. Earlier this month, the Trump administration rejected such deportation plan reports, saying that it was not considering such a proposal.
Trump has spoken positively of the US-Indian business and strategic partnership. Despite his strong rhetoric around the need to preserve American jobs from foreign workers, perhaps his businessman side also recognises the huge positive economic impact of Indians in America – especially in technology, science and innovation. After all, he was brought into the presidency partly on the promise of making the American economy stronger. There is a deep sigh of relief on this issue, at least for now.
As for me, after I complete my little Indian holiday, I will return home to New York. At the airport there, I look forward to joining the faster moving immigration line for US residents. Perhaps, the immigration officer will even smile and say, “Welcome back home.”
(Natasha Israni is a New York-based journalist who has worked for over 18 years in print and television. She's currently working on a fictional novel while freelancing for media organisations such as Times Now and Associated Press Television (APTN). Tweet to her @natashaisrani or contact her on natasha.israni@gmail.com)
(The opinions expressed above are the author’s own, The Quint neither endorses nor is responsible for them.)
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