Second lady Usha Vance arrives to speak in the Mega Hangar at the Marine Corps Air Station New River in Jacksonville, N.C., Wednesday, Nov. 19, 2025. (AP Photo/Matt Rourke)
Since Donald Trump announced he would be picking JD Vance to be his running mate, Usha Vance has undergone the kind of scrutiny that has hardly ever occurred to an Indian-American. MAGA folks freaked out that she was a practising Hindu, and it was immaterial that her faith had helped JD find Christ again. Democrats wondered how a person with Usha’s credentials (Yale, academic family) could be with someone like JD or who followed JD’s politics. JD Vance hasn’t helped himself, like the time he told a Turning Point USA audience that he hoped his “agnostic” wife — what a way to erase her religion — would embrace Christ, even doubling down to claim that it was every Christian’s job to help others see the light. But even after all the disparaging rumours aimed at Usha Vance, a recent podcast featuring Joy Reid starkly shows how easy it is for people to dehumanise Indian-Americans.Reid, wearing a t-shirt that says F*** Trump, F*** ICE, Free Palestine, Unoccupy Chicago, and a bunch of other messages which combined explain the dire strait in which the Democratic Party finds itself, casually claims that JD Vance will drop his “brown Hindu wife” Usha for “white queen” Erika Kirk.
The part that fits a larger, uglier pattern
What makes this moment especially disturbing is how neatly it fits into the rise of anti-India hate online and offline. In recent years, Indians in the West have found themselves cast into every role except that of actual human beings. They are colonial agents one day, fascist foot soldiers the next, tech bros on Monday, caste villains on Tuesday, and accidental beneficiaries of “white adjacency” by the weekend. It is a rotating caricature factory that reduces 1.4 billion people to whichever label best suits the Western cultural mood. And Indian-Americans are often caught at the intersection of all these projections. The same progressives who champion diversity suddenly talk as if Hindu identity is a contaminated category. The same conservatives who praise family values treat brown families as demographic threats. Usha Vance, unfortunately, becomes the perfect canvas for the week’s anxieties. Not because of anything she said, but because her existence unsettles the simplistic narratives both sides prefer.
A story that begins with gossip and pretends to end with prophecy
The moment Reid begins to speak, it is clear this is not analysis. It is improvisation dressed up as political insight. “They can’t have the successor to MAGA be the guy with the brown Hindu wife,” she declares, as if she has unlocked a hidden psychological truth about an entire voting bloc. She calls them “Christian nationalists,” insists Usha “won’t work,” and then suggests JD Vance is either sacrificing his wife for ambition or that Usha herself is complicit in the performance.She then fixates on JD Vance’s public hug with Erika Kirk, calling it “slap-and-tickle” and “the weirdest shit,” and pivots to critiquing Erika’s clothing with, “You’re supposed to be a widow. You in leather pants?” These are not the observations of a serious political thinker. They are the lines of someone scrolling through gossip threads and mistaking them for structural analysis.Finally she arrives at the centrepiece of her theory. “Wouldn’t it be the most perfect MAGA fairytale if he finally sees the light that he needs a white queen instead of this brown Hindu.” She adds a quick “I’m not saying that’s happening,” but the narrative is already complete. The hierarchy is drawn. The brown woman is written out.
A racial critique that dissolves into racial caricature
Second lady Usha Vance meets with students at DeLalio Elementary School on the Marine Corps Air Station New River in Jacksonville, N.C., Wednesday, Nov. 19, 2025. (AP Photo/Matt Rourke)
What is most striking about the segment is the contradiction between Reid’s t-shirt and her argument. She wears slogans about liberation, solidarity, resistance and justice. Then she denies every one of those ideals to a brown woman who did nothing except marry someone with different politics.Reid says she is calling out racism, but she ends up performing it. She does not see Usha Vance as a lawyer, a mother, a daughter of immigrants or a woman balancing two faith traditions. She sees her as a demographic problem. A cultural obstacle. An inconvenient symbol of brownness and Hindu identity that, in her mind, cannot fit inside a movement she despises.It is easy to condemn racism when it comes from the other side. It is harder to notice when it slips out while criticising the other side. The t-shirt says “Free Palestine.” The monologue denies empathy to an Indian-American Hindu woman who is, by every measure, as much a minority as anyone Reid claims to defend.
The rumour that never deserved oxygen
Underneath the moral performance, the entire theory comes from three unrelated moments. Erika Kirk, grieving the murder of her husband, said she wished she had been pregnant when he died. It was a moment of pain, not a confession. JD Vance hugged her on stage in full public view. It was sympathy, not symbolism. And Usha Vance appeared without her wedding ring one afternoon. It was an ordinary oversight, not a marital crisis.None of these events belong together. They were stitched into a story only because the internet craves drama. And instead of challenging that logic, Reid absorbed it, embroidered it and presented it as something profound.The widow became an archetype. The wife became a liability. The husband became a character in a political telenovela.It was rumour inflated into racial prophecy.
When real people are turned into disposable archetypes
First lady Melania Trump and second lady Usha Vance meet with students at DeLalio Elementary School on the Marine Corps Air Station New River in Jacksonville, N.C., Wednesday, Nov. 19, 2025. (AP Photo/Matt Rourke)
There is a special cruelty in dragging two women into a plot they never agreed to inhabit. Erika Kirk is barely beginning her life as a widow, yet she is recast as a “white queen” waiting in the wings. Usha Vance, who has kept an almost painfully private profile, is turned into an emblem of “brown Hindu” undesirability. Neither woman asked to be the heroine or the villain of this fever dream. Neither deserves to be reduced to the colour wheel of someone else’s political imagination.JD Vance, for all his flaws, becomes a piece on a board. In Reid’s story he is not a husband or father. He is a man conducting a marital reshuffle to please a base that exists only inside her claim.The humanity is lost. What remains is theatre.
Projection disguised as commentary
The problem is not simply that Joy Reid repeated a conspiracy. It is that she treated it as obvious. She began with the assumption that MAGA is racist and ended with the conclusion that its chosen successor must behave in ways that confirm her view. It is commentary built backwards: the conclusion arrives first, the justification later. This is the same logic she spent years accusing right-wing media of using. Start with the villain. Start with the allegation. Fill in the rest. Do not worry about the truth. Worry about the story.
The ending that should disturb all of us
When the noise settles, the truth is small and human. A widow missing her husband. A woman who occasionally forgets her ring. A public hug meant as comfort. There is no conspiracy here. Only life happening in its messy, tender, inconvenient way.Yet three people were dragged through a podcast and reduced to plot points. Usha became the wrong kind of wife. Erika became the tempting “other woman.” JD became the protagonist of a love triangle that never existed.And this was said on a platform that presents itself as political thought.Imagine, for a moment, the mirror image. Imagine a conservative podcaster declaring that Michelle Obama was the “wrong kind of wife,” and that Barack Obama needed a “white queen” to be more acceptable to America. Imagine the outrage. Imagine the editorials. Imagine the rightly furious conversations about racism, misogyny and the dehumanisation of Black women.Now imagine what Usha Vance felt hearing her marriage framed the same way. This was not commentary. It was a small, callous story told with the confidence of someone who assumed there would be no consequences. It revealed how quickly empathy collapses when the woman in question does not belong to your political tribe. It showed how easily the language of justice can be used to justify the erasure of someone else’s dignity. The podcast will fade. The clip will scroll away. But the message remains. It tells us that for some commentators, solidarity is conditional. Dignity is selective. And some women are granted humanity only when their politics align. That should trouble us far more than any rumour ever could. Go to Source
