Minority politicians fail to advocate for groups they claim to represent
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On Jan. 9, French President Emmanuel Macron appointed 34-year-old Gabriel Attal as prime minister, making him the youngest to ascend to the position in France. Attal is also the first openly gay leader of the country.
As a gay, multiracial politician with a unique Tunisian Jewish and Ukrainian Orthodox Christian background, one might have expected Attal to have more left-leaning politics. Yet Attal’s conservative policy-making decisions have taken a negative toll on the minorities he claims to advocate for. Perhaps that is why his appointment is so significant.
As former education minister of France, Attal was behind the controversial ban on the Islamic abaya in schools, a political move that ostracized French Muslims, a growing minority in the country. Additionally, despite dealing with bullying and homophobia during his time in school, Attal’s administration botched the investigation into the suicide of a teenage boy who was bullied for his sexual orientation. While members of the LGBTQ+ community may have been looking toward Attal as someone who understands their struggle and can advocate for them, he ultimately failed them.
Attal’s rise to prominence in French politics exhibits a contradictory trend for minority politicians: they represent by recounting their experiences but rarely follow through with their policy choices. Some use their identity as a stepping stone but not something that deeply connects them to their communities.
American minorities are no strangers to this phenomenon. As an Indian American, the 2024 presidential race has been especially eye-opening for me. Even with two candidates who come from Indian backgrounds, I, like many other Indian Americans, find it challenging to align with either candidate politically or morally.
Both Vivek Ramaswamy and Nikki Haley embrace their first-generation status when it comes to certain values, like education and working hard, but are quick to dismiss the reality of what it means to be a brown person in today’s world without the platform and resources they have. They take advantage of their culture when it is useful to them while doing away with what will separate them from their white supporters.
Although Ramaswamy recently ended his presidential bid following the Iowa caucus, his campaign was startling. The millionaire’s staunch position against birthright citizenship and his alarming interpretation of the Fourteenth Amendment were particularly disturbing. As the children of immigrants, many of us understand the privilege of living in the U.S. and the financial or circumstantial situations that led our parents to make this life-changing decision. Ramaswamy’s politics don’t reflect this understanding.
Ramaswamy’s primary case against birthright citizenship stems primarily from illegal immigration from Latin America, where many migrants come from impoverished backgrounds and are escaping violence to provide better for their children. His outright lack of regard for his privilege and the guarantees American citizenship provides is harmful.
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Ramaswamy’s rejection of “identity politics” strays Indian Americans and minorities, in general, from his campaign. His stance against affirmative action and race-based admissions in college is especially hypocritical, as he was a recipient of the prestigious Soros fellowship, a $90,000 scholarship for children of immigrants in the U.S. seeking a graduate degree. Despite being firmly against using one’s identity to stand out in admissions, he directly benefited from a similar system.
With Haley firmly positioning herself with the Republican party, her stances conflict with her connection to her heritage. As the daughter of educated Indian immigrants, a college professor and lawyer who came to the U.S. through Canada, Haley’s ethnic background has always been under scrutiny. In her memoir, “Can’t Is Not an Option: My American Story,” Haley details her family’s struggles to find a house to rent because of their status as immigrants.
Despite also attesting to the racism she felt as a child and throughout her blooming career as a politician, Haley has recently made the claim that America “has never been a racist country.” This comes after South Carolina’s removal of the Confederate flag in 2015 at the State House under her governorship following the horrific anti-Black massacre at a historically Black church in Charleston, South Carolina.
While she eventually cooperated with the removal, Haley’s position about the flag was disconcerting, with her initially claiming the flag as a “symbol of heritage and service.” By denying the current and previous systematic structures that the U.S. has relied on to perpetuate racism, Haley discredits the hardship her parents, herself and ultimately every other person of color has had to overcome.
Attal, Ramaswamy and Haley’s positions in politics represent how far society has come in accepting diversity in government. But their political leanings seem to express a different story: a surefire way to gain influence is to utilize your untraditional background to set you apart but ultimately oppose minority rights instead of championing them. However remarkable their accomplishments are, their politics beg the question of who we want to see in our governments: those who represent us or those who listen to us, and how often it is that those qualities intertwine.
Christy Joshy is a freshman International Relations and Accounting major. She can be reached at cjoshy@syr.edu.
