Vivek Ramaswamy's Identity Politics: A Missed Opportunity for Conservatives?
A fellow Indian American from Ohio argues that Vivek Ramaswamy, now running for governor, spent too much time defending his faith and background rather than simply letting his ideas speak for themselves. The critique offers a unique perspective on identity, belonging, and the future of the conservative movement.
John Damon, Just The News Iowa
Growing up in Cincinnati, as an Indian American, I always looked up to prominent Indian Americans. I was especially happy to see Vivek Ramaswamy emerge as a national political figure through his 2024 presidential campaign. I hoped to see a version of myself reflected in him.
Instead, I was disappointed.
A Familiar Face, A Troubling Pattern
My contention with Ramaswamy is not exactly political. Indian Americans are as politically diverse as any other community, and I do not expect that someone who shares my heritage should share my ideology. My discomfort with Ramaswamy stems from his apparent willingness to concede the conservative movement's assumptions about what someone like him has to prove before his ideas can stand on their own.
Watching his campaign, I noticed a recurring pattern. Before Ramaswamy could explain what he believed, he often found himself answering questions about his faith and background.
One Iowa voter told The New York Times that he had intended to support Ramaswamy until he discovered he was Hindu. I looked up his religion and saw he's Hindu, the voter said. I was going to vote for him until that came up. Even Bob Vander Plaats, one of Iowa's most influential evangelical leaders, acknowledged that Ramaswamy's religion was another hurdle Republican voters would have to overcome.
Rather than dismissing those concerns as irrelevant, Ramaswamy embraced the conversation. Speaking before evangelical audiences, he discussed how he and his audience shared the same Christian values that this nation was founded on. When asked why his religion should matter, he did not reject the premise of the question. Instead, he acknowledged that he understood why conservative Christians cared.
The Cost of Reassurance
Discussing faith is not inherently objectionable. As someone who was raised Hindu, I recognize that there are meaningful areas of overlap between Hindu and Christian ethics. But there are also profound differences in how each tradition understands humanity's relationship with the divine. Those differences are not flaws to be minimized.
Of course, Ramaswamy should defend his faith. I do not condemn him for doing so in an audience that may carry many biases against it. My criticism lies in the way he concedes the premise that it requires defense.
The same instinct appears whenever Ramaswamy discusses his background. He frequently invokes his parents' legal immigration story as evidence that his family's experience reinforces a familiar meritocratic narrative about the American Dream.
Candidates like J.D. Vance generally do not face sustained questions about whether their religion or ancestry fit comfortably within the conservative movement. Even though Ramaswamy can focus solely on his policy agenda, he repeatedly foregrounds these narratives of belonging.
A Paradox in His Own Candidacy
This is especially notable because throughout the campaign, Ramaswamy repeatedly argued that America should pursue what he called a colorblind meritocracy. Following the racist Jacksonville shooting, he maintained that the country's deeper problem was not resurgent white supremacy but an increasingly racialized culture that encouraged Americans to see one another through the lens of race.
Yet, his own candidacy reveals a paradox: Even a politician who rejects identity-based thinking could not escape the reality that many voters evaluated him through the lens of identity.
Of course, one could argue that this is simply the nature of politics. Every politician tries to resonate with their audience.
The Opportunity Still Ahead
However, as one of the most nationally prominent Hindu Republicans in modern American politics, Ramaswamy has an unusual opportunity to expand conservatives' understanding of who could belong. Instead, he often chooses to demonstrate how comfortably he fits within the movement's existing expectations.
Ramaswamy is hardly unique. Barack Obama spent years confronting conspiracy theories about his birthplace and religion; Bobby Jindal publicly wrote about converting to Catholicism and made his Christian faith a prominent part of his public identity. What makes Ramaswamy different for me is that he is an Ohioan. Watching someone from my own hometown navigate these expectations makes the compromises feel far more personal.
Rather than asking conservatives to broaden their understanding of who belongs, Ramaswamy presents Hinduism as evidence that he shares a Christian moral framework; his immigrant background is presented as evidence that he embodies the American Dream.
Perhaps expanding the movement's understanding of who belongs was just never Ramaswamy's project. But as another Indian American who grew up just a few miles away, I could not help hoping it would be.
Now, as he campaigns to become Ohio's next governor, he has another opportunity. I do not expect him to abandon his conservative principles, nor do I expect him to represent every Indian American.
I simply hope his gubernatorial campaign spends less time translating his identity into terms conservatives already recognize and more time trusting that an Indian American, a Hindu, and the son of immigrants need not justify his place in politics before asking Ohioans to judge his ideas.
Govi Chadalavada lives in Indian Hill and is a rising senior at Western Reserve Academy.
This article originally appeared on Cincinnati Enquirer.