Introduction: Money, Power and the Soul of American Leadership
In the space of a fortnight, three images captured the strange new geometry of global power. Elon Musk, the world's richest man, publicly mocked India's richest man, Mukesh Ambani, as the "Prime Minister" of India. Days later, the United States Secretary of State, Marco Rubio, was welcomed by the Ambani family at Reliance's Jamnagar refinery in Gujarat. And in Texas, Musk's money became the single largest force in what may be the most important Senate race in the country, against a Democratic seminarian, James Talarico, who has made Musk himself the villain of his campaign.
These are not separate stories. They are chapters of one: the collision between private wealth, national interest and democratic politics, playing out across Washington, New Delhi, Europe and, quietly, the Himalaya. With American voters going to the polls on November 3, the outcome will shape not only who controls Congress but how the world's most powerful democracy defines "nation first" for the rest of this decade.
This article examines that contest critically but fairly. It does not take one party's side. It argues that both Republicans and Democrats have something to learn, and that the communities often treated as electoral afterthoughts, including Hindu, Indian and Nepali Americans, may hold more of the answer than either party realises.
Jamnagar: Washington courts the refinery, not just the republic
On October 21, Rubio arrived in Jamnagar for what was billed as a private visit to Reliance Industries' refining complex, the largest single-site refinery in the world with a capacity of roughly 1.4 million barrels a day. He had met Gautam Adani and Tata Sons chairman N. Chandrasekaran in Mumbai that morning, and he was accompanied in Gujarat by US Ambassador Sergio Gor. Mukesh and Anant Ambani hosted the delegation, which toured the refinery, Reliance's new clean-energy giga-factories and its planned data centres.
The purpose was strategic, not ceremonial. Before arriving, Rubio described India as a refining superpower and said he wanted to discuss Reliance processing more Venezuelan crude, and possibly producing oil in Venezuela itself. Washington is looking for buyers for Venezuelan barrels; Jamnagar's technology can handle heavy, difficult grades that many refineries cannot. Gor, for his part, used the visit to promote American energy exports, noting that the United States is now India's largest supplier of LPG and highlighting Reliance's commitment, first announced by President Trump in March, to support America's first major new refinery in nearly half a century.
The timing also matters. Rubio said only a small number of items remain before an India-US trade agreement can be finalised. Earlier this year Washington imposed steep tariffs on India, partly as a penalty for its purchases of Russian oil, and Reliance was the largest of those buyers. Ambani has since adjusted, separating his export refining from Russian crude while keeping some purchases for the domestic market. The message from Jamnagar is that Ambani has made himself useful to Washington's energy goals without abandoning India's long-standing relationship with Moscow. That is classic Indian strategic autonomy, executed by a private company.
"Prime Minister Ambani": the Musk feud and its limits
Rubio's visit came only days after Musk escalated his public quarrel with Ambani over Starlink's stalled entry into India. Having first blamed unnamed "oligarchs" for blocking satellite internet, Musk on October 9 posted a sarcastic open letter addressed to "Prime Minister Ambani", calling him the real boss of India and accusing him of protecting a telecom monopoly. He followed up by sharing reports about political donations from Reliance-linked entities.
The reaction in India was revealing. Communications Minister Jyotiraditya Scindia insisted India allows no monopolies. Rahul Gandhi of Congress seized on the post to attack the government, and Musk publicly thanked him. Yet even Asaduddin Owaisi, one of Prime Minister Modi's fiercest critics, objected that no foreigner should be allowed to insult India's elected leader. Indian opinion, in other words, separated a legitimate debate about market concentration from what many saw as a foreign billionaire lecturing a sovereign nation.
Washington's choice was equally revealing. The Secretary of State went to Jamnagar anyway. Musk is a major Republican donor and a Trump ally, but on India the administration has chosen Reliance's refining capacity over Musk's grievance. That is a useful reminder that, however large Musk's fortune, American foreign policy still answers to national interest first.
Texas: Talarico versus Musk
If Musk's leverage is limited abroad, it is formidable at home. Federal filings show he gave $158 million in September to the Senate Leadership Fund, the main Republican Senate super PAC, which passed the same amounts within a day to Texas PAC, a group created to support Attorney General Ken Paxton against Talarico. His own America PAC has also spent millions attacking the Democrat directly. Total advertising in the race has passed half a billion dollars, and the polls show no clear leader.
What makes Texas different is that Talarico has chosen to run against Musk by name. At rallies he tells voters that if they have seen an attack ad, a misleading mailer or an alarming text about him, it most likely came from Musk, and he has accused Musk of wanting Texas's land and water. He casts his campaign as David against Goliath and calls his supporters his slingshot. Musk, for his part, amplified a false claim on X that Talarico had disappeared from the campaign trail because of a mental breakdown, a story that collapsed quickly and was widely criticised.
The stakes are considerable. No Democrat has won statewide in Texas in more than three decades, and the seat could decide Senate control. Talarico has also out-raised Paxton among individual donors by a wide margin, so the race is a genuine test of whether one man's fortune can outweigh a broad base of small contributions. Whoever wins, the Texas contest has become a referendum not only on Paxton or Talarico, but on the role of billionaire money in American democracy.
A fair reading must note the other side. Musk's defenders argue he is simply exercising the same rights as Democratic mega-donors, that Paxton's opponents have their own celebrity funders, and that Talarico's progressive record makes him a poor fit for Texas. These are legitimate arguments. But spreading false health rumours about an opponent is not, and Republicans who value their reputation for seriousness should say so.
Ossoff and Newsom: the Democrats' combative wing
Talarico is not the only Democrat who has decided that confrontation pays. In Georgia, Senator Jon Ossoff, once known as a cautious moderate, has built his re-election campaign around a stump speech that calls Trump a failed president and a national disgrace. He accuses the president of enriching himself and his family while ordinary Americans face higher prices, and in August he provoked a sharp exchange by criticising Trump's closeness to aide Natalie Harp. Trump responded by comparing Ossoff to Pee-wee Herman. Ossoff entered the autumn with a large cash advantage over his Republican opponent, Representative Mike Collins, and many in his party now see his campaign as an audition for 2028.
California Governor Gavin Newsom has taken a parallel path. He has mimicked Trump's social-media style, clashed with the administration over the deployment of the National Guard, and led California's redistricting response to Texas. He has described Trump as a "wrecking ball" to alliances and institutions, and has said openly that he will consider a presidential run once the midterms are over.
There is a strategic logic here. Democrats concluded after 2024 that politeness was read as weakness. But there is also a risk. A party that defines itself only by opposition to one man must still answer the questions that drove voters to that man in the first place: cost of living, border security and public order. On those questions, the Democrats' combative wing has so far offered more energy than detail.
Europe's streets and councils: separating extremism from citizens
Any analysis of Western politics today must address Europe, and it must do so carefully. Many commentators, including in the United States, describe a "Muslim takeover" of Europe. The facts call for a more precise picture.
First, demography. Pew Research Center's widely cited projections estimated Muslims at about 4.9% of the population of the EU, Norway and Switzerland in 2016. Under a medium-migration scenario that share would reach about 11% by 2050, and even under a sustained high-refugee scenario about 14%. These are significant changes, especially in parts of Western Europe, and they are fair subjects for debate about integration and immigration levels. But they describe a growing minority, not a replacement of Europe's Christian and secular majorities.
Second, politics. Britain's local elections in May showed something real. In places such as Birmingham, independent candidates, many of them Muslim and campaigning on Gaza, won enough seats to push Europe's largest local authority into no overall control. Similar independents have unsettled Labour in Bradford, Oldham and parts of London. This is democratic participation, not conquest: these councillors were elected by voters, and Reform UK and the Greens made even larger gains on the same night. But it has also brought legitimate concerns. Some campaigns took on a sectarian tone, Jewish councillors faced hostile campaigns, and at least one candidate suspended over Holocaust denial was still elected. Mainstream parties should neither ignore those problems nor tar an entire faith community because of them.
Third, the streets. As discussed in earlier sections, Europe's current unrest has several sources: Gaza rallies, cost-of-living protests and anti-Islamisation counter-demonstrations. Violent jihadism is a real and serious threat, and governments must confront it firmly. But the word should be reserved for those who preach or practise violence. Using it for every Muslim protester or voter is inaccurate, and it hands extremists the propaganda they want.
The lesson for America is that both denial and alarmism fail. Societies that refuse to discuss integration, extremism or migration numbers lose public trust; those that treat a whole religious community as a fifth column lose their own principles.
America's Muslim vote and the immigration question
This debate has crossed the Atlantic. The Council on American-Islamic Relations has launched a Muslims.Vote drive aimed at a dozen states with concentrated Muslim communities, including Michigan, Georgia, Pennsylvania, Arizona and Texas, and a record number of Muslim candidates are on the ballot. Several Republican campaigns, meanwhile, have made Islam itself a campaign theme, with Vice President JD Vance attacking Abdul El-Sayed, a Muslim Democrat running for the Senate in Michigan.
The Muslim vote is not a monolith. In 2024 many Muslim voters, angered over Gaza, deserted the Democrats, some for third parties and some for Trump, drawn by conservative views on family and sexuality. Some analysts now warn that Republicans risk throwing away those gains through rhetoric that portrays Muslim Americans as outsiders. Democrats face the opposite dilemma: how to defend Muslim candidates and voters against prejudice while staying credible on national security and antisemitism.
Underneath all of this lies immigration. The case made by many conservatives, and by a growing number of centrists, is that Democrats cannot win the country's trust while appearing indifferent to border enforcement. On this view, the party must either adopt a firm, credible policy of legal and orderly immigration with zero tolerance for illegal entry and criminal conduct, or accept that voters will continue to trust Republicans on the issue. The counter-argument from Democrats is that enforcement without due process, mass deportation of long-settled families and blanket suspicion of Muslim-majority countries are both unjust and economically harmful. The country that resolves this tension, with a policy that is firm at the border and fair inside it, will have found the real meaning of "nation first".
One front against jihadist terrorism
On one question there should be no party line at all. Jihadist terrorism, the violent ideology of ISIS, al-Qaeda and their imitators, is an enemy of every free society. It has killed Americans in New York, Europeans in Paris and Brussels, Indians in Mumbai and countless Muslims across the Middle East, Africa and South Asia, who remain its most numerous victims. Nepal knows this pain directly: twelve Nepali workers were murdered by militants in Iraq in 2004, and Nepali security guards were killed in a bombing in Kabul in 2016. Terrorism does not ask its victims their party, their nationality or their faith.
After September 11, 2001, Republicans and Democrats stood together, and America was stronger for it. That spirit should return. Both parties should agree on a common baseline that does not change with each election: name the threat plainly, without euphemism; fully fund intelligence, counter-terrorism and border screening; cut off terrorist financing and online recruitment networks; prosecute incitement to violence while protecting free speech and worship; and stand with allies, from Europe to India, who face the same threat.
That unity must also be precise. The enemy is jihadist terrorism and the ideology that justifies it, not Muslims as a people. The great majority of Muslim Americans are law-abiding citizens, and many of the most valuable warnings about radicalisation come from within Muslim communities themselves. Treating them as partners rather than suspects is not softness; it is good security. A united America, firm against terror and fair to its own citizens, denies extremists the clash of civilisations they want to provoke.
Hindu, Indian and Nepali Americans: the moderate bridge
Amid this polarisation, one community deserves far more attention than it receives: Americans of Hindu, Indian and Nepali heritage.
Their political behaviour is often misunderstood. They are not a reliable Republican bloc. The 2026 AAPI Voter Survey found Indian Americans favouring Democratic Senate candidates by about 66% to 22%, and large majorities disapprove of President Trump's performance. Yet Carnegie Endowment research shows their attachment to the Democrats is softening: Democratic identification has fallen from 52% in 2020 to 46% this year, and enthusiasm for the party has cooled. The researchers' conclusion is the right one for both parties: this community's support must be earned, not assumed.
What makes these voters distinctive is less their party label than their temperament. Hindu and Buddhist traditions, including those of Nepal, carry a deep habit of pluralism. Hindu and Nepali families have lived for generations alongside Christian, Muslim and secular neighbours in South Asia, the Gulf and the West, and they have generally integrated into American society with little friction. They tend to respect the Christian heritage of the United States without feeling threatened by it, value education, enterprise and family, and reject religious extremism of every kind. That combination, socially moderate, economically aspirational and firmly opposed to violence in the name of faith, is exactly the centre that both American parties claim to be seeking.
The point is not to set one minority against another. Most Muslim Americans also reject extremism, and the strongest guarantee against it is a society in which every community has a stake. But Hindu, Indian and Nepali Americans can serve as a bridge: a reminder that diversity and national cohesion are not opposites. Republicans who want to grow their coalition should stop treating these voters as foreign and address their concerns about tariffs on India, H-1B visas and discrimination. Democrats should stop taking them for granted and take seriously their concerns about crime, school standards and order.
Thatcher, Reagan and Trump: what is worth revisiting
Many conservatives argue that America and Europe need to return to the principles of Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan, updated by Trump's emphasis on borders and national interest. There is something to this. Thatcher restored the authority of elected government over entrenched interests and revived a stagnant British economy. Reagan combined free enterprise, energy abundance and a strong defence with an optimism that united a divided country and helped end the Cold War. Trump's lasting contribution has been to force both parties to take border control and industrial self-reliance seriously.
But an honest revival must take the whole inheritance, not selected parts. Reagan was a champion of free trade, not tariffs, and signed the 1986 law that granted legal status to millions of undocumented immigrants alongside tougher enforcement. Thatcher believed in strong institutions and the rule of law, and would have had little patience for false rumours spread about political opponents. Their critics also have a case: both presided over widening inequality and the decline of industrial communities, the very grievances that later fuelled populism.
The best of these traditions is not a slogan. It is a set of disciplines: secure borders with a fair legal system, open markets with strong national industries, firm defence with reliable alliances, and confidence in Western values without contempt for minorities who share them.
Reagan also understood something many of today's leaders forget: strength and kindness are not opposites. He described America as a shining city on a hill, a beacon that drew people because of what it offered, not only what it could impose. His capitalism was generous and confident. Lower taxes, free enterprise and open markets were meant to lift everyone, at home and among America's friends abroad, and he believed a prosperous America should be a protector and partner to the free world, not a fortress closed to it.
That spirit should guide America's approach to its friends in South Asia today. Nepal and India have never threatened the United States. Their diasporas, Hindu, Buddhist and others, are among the most peaceful, hard-working and law-abiding communities in America, contributing as doctors, engineers, entrepreneurs, nurses and small-business owners. Nepal has welcomed American partnership through the Millennium Challenge Corporation compact for roads and electricity, and India has become one of Washington's most important strategic partners. A Reagan-style America would reward such friendship with fair trade instead of punitive tariffs, predictable visas for skilled workers and students, and long-term investment in energy, infrastructure and technology. Being firm with enemies and generous with friends is how America earned its leadership in the twentieth century, and it is how it can keep it in the twenty-first.
A critical message to both parties
To Republicans: your strongest argument is competence on the economy, energy and the border. Rubio's Jamnagar visit shows that pragmatic, interest-based diplomacy works. Do not undermine it by letting identity rhetoric alienate Muslim, Indian and Asian American voters who share many of your values, or by tolerating false claims from your largest donor. Billionaire money can buy airtime; it cannot buy trust.
To Democrats: your combative energy is real, and Ossoff, Newsom and Talarico have shown it can mobilise voters. But anger at Trump is not a governing programme. Without a credible immigration policy, plain condemnation of extremism and antisemitism wherever they appear, and a serious answer on prices, you risk winning arguments and losing elections.
To both: the competition should be over who protects the nation best, not over which communities can be blamed. A country that is confident in its own values can afford to be both firm and fair.
Why this matters for Nepal and South Asia
For Nepal, these debates are not distant. The Starlink episode in Ukraine, the India blockade and Nepal's own licensing rules all point to one lesson: critical infrastructure controlled by a single foreign company is both an asset and a dependency. Rubio's Jamnagar visit shows that Washington will negotiate with South Asian partners on the basis of interest, energy and capacity. Nepal should prepare on the same terms, offering hydropower, strategic neutrality and a stable, pluralist society, while protecting its sovereignty in digital and energy infrastructure.
Nepali Americans, though a small community, can also play a role. Like other Himalayan and South Asian diasporas, they can show American politicians that faith, heritage and loyalty to one's new nation sit comfortably together.
Conclusion
Wealth can buy access and technology can create leverage, but from Kyiv to Kathmandu, and from Jamnagar to Austin, governments and voters are learning that infrastructure, influence or political money controlled by one man is both an asset and a dependency. America's lasting strength has never come from any single billionaire or any single party. It has come from the Reagan formula: confident free enterprise at home, unity against those who use terror, and generosity toward friends abroad, including the peaceful peoples of Nepal and India. The nations that will lead this decade are those that put national interest first while keeping their doors open to the citizens of every faith who share it.
Other perspectives
This article argues for a centrist "firm but fair" position, and it is fair to note where readers may disagree. Many progressives would say the focus on Muslim voters and European demography itself feeds prejudice, and that the real threats to Western democracy are inequality and disinformation, not migration. Many conservatives would say the article understates the speed of cultural change in parts of Europe and the security risks of large-scale migration. Polling on Indian American and Muslim American voters also rests on relatively small samples, so conclusions about these communities should be held with some humility.
