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Trump’s team, India, and the death of diplomacy…

Diplomacy has always been a delicate craft. Words, carefully weighed, once built bridges where armies could not. But in the Trump era, that art has collapsed into gutter talk. The language of statesmen has given way to the slang of the street. And now, words are no longer instruments of peace but weapons of mockery.

The latest example is Peter Navarro, a senior advisor in Donald Trump’s circle, who recently sneered at India’s purchase of discounted Russian oil by calling it the work of ‘Brahmins’. This was not a slip of the tongue. It was a calculated insult, dripping with racial and caste undertones.

Read in Hindi: ट्रंप टीम द्वारा भारत का अपमान या कूटनीति में फूहड़पन की वापसी

And yet, irony cuts deepest here. The very word ‘Brahmin’ that Navarro wielded as a slur was once a shining badge of honour in American intellectual life. In the 19th century, ‘Boston Brahmins’ were celebrated as the guardians of knowledge and refinement.

The term, coined by The Atlantic, referred to Boston’s educated elite, including philosophers, writers, and reformers. Ralph Waldo Emerson, deeply moved by the Bhagavad Gita; Henry David Thoreau, who called the Gita’s wisdom the ‘cleansing of his soul’; and Walt Whitman, whose poetry echoed Eastern spirituality—all were counted among these ‘Brahmins’. Back then, the word meant wisdom, introspection, and moral elevation.

Today, in the mouths of Trump’s allies, it has been reduced to a racialised jeer. That is not evolution; it is degeneration. It is not India’s shame, but America’s self-inflicted wound—an erasure of its own intellectual tradition.

India’s largest corporations—Tata, Reliance, Birla, Mahindra—are not owned by Brahmins. So which ‘Brahmin’ is Navarro imagining as the oil trader? Social media quickly skewered him: “Mr Navarro, which Brahmin mailed you the oil bill?” The mockery revealed the emptiness of his rhetoric. His words were not analysis, but prejudice disguised as wit.

Now picture this: what if an Indian official dismissed American foreign policy as ‘Wall Street Jews’ tricks’ or ‘the antics of Southern rednecks’? Washington would explode. The White House would call an emergency briefing, the media would howl, and sanctions might even be whispered.

And yet, when the insult runs the other way—when India is painted with a casteist brush—Washington shrugs. That is the disease of American diplomacy: one standard for itself, another for the rest of the world.

Muktā Benjamin, publisher of Humour Times, put it bluntly, “Diplomacy is built with words, not bricks. And when words turn poisonous, they don’t build bridges—they raise walls. Navarro’s remark was not policy; it was theatre. It reflects not just his ignorance, but the Trump team’s entire mindset—where bullying passes for strength, and taunts are dressed up as ‘plain speaking.’ Instead of revisiting Emerson and Thoreau, they prefer the cheap thrill of slogans.”

The India of today is not a scolded pupil sitting at the back of the class. It is a nation of 1.4 billion people, the world’s fastest-growing major economy, and a decisive pillar of global strategy. To deal with India is to deal with an equal, not a subordinate. To speak to India in slurs is not just insulting—it is strategically foolish.

Navarro’s insult, in truth, does not belittle India. It belittles America. It mocks the America of Emerson and Thoreau—the seekers who found light in the Vedas and the Gita. America, then, looked to India for wisdom. This America, Navarro’s America, is reduced to name-calling.

Unsurprisingly, Hindu organisations in the US condemned the remark as Hindu-phobic. The American Hindus Against Defamation called it a symptom of colonial arrogance. From corporate leaders in Mumbai to Twitter users in Delhi, the backlash was sharp, witty, and relentless. What Navarro dismissed as a ‘Brahmin problem’ quickly became America’s embarrassment.

This is the choice facing the United States. Does it stand with the legacy of its thinkers, who once looked to India’s philosophy for guidance? Or does it embrace the smallness of Navarro and Trump—where diplomacy means humiliating allies, and leadership means jeering from the sidelines?

America must choose carefully. India is no longer waiting for validation. It is not looking for approval from Washington. It is a partner in shaping the 21st century. And partnerships are not built on sneers.

If America wishes to stand as a leader, it must return to the wisdom of its own intellectual giants—who saw in India not an object of ridicule, but a source of light. Otherwise, Navarro’s ‘Brahmin’ jibe will not go down as India’s shame, but as America’s.