Over the past quarter century, few countries have commanded as much sustained attention from U.S. foreign policy officials as has India. Since the George W. Bush administration, the United States has placed India not just at the heart of its approach to Asia but at the center of its global strategy.
This enduring partnership rested on an unspoken doctrine of strategic altruism. U.S. policymakers believed that supporting India’s rise—economically, militarily, and diplomatically—would pay dividends for the United States in the long term. A stronger, more prosperous India would open markets for American companies, bolster regional deterrence against China, and serve as a democratic counterweight to authoritarianism in Asia. India’s ascent was perceived not as a threat but as an opportunity. Because India’s rise aligned with American goals, Washington made substantial investments in India without demanding immediate returns. That long-term bet endured across both Democratic and Republican administrations—including President Donald Trump’s first term.
But Trump’s return to office could mark the end of this approach. The second Trump administration is driven not so much by transactionalism as it is by an insatiable desire to burnish its dominance in virtually all its foreign relationships. Its dealings with India have been no exception.
To preserve the relationship, it now falls to India—not the United States—to practice strategic altruism: making concessions to, generating deliverables for, and limiting what it asks of a U.S. administration primarily concerned with maintaining the upper hand. For a country committed to strategic autonomy and “multialignment,” this is an uncomfortable proposition. Nevertheless, it may be India’s best bet for weathering Trump’s second term and positioning itself for a more favorable future.
IN A GIVING MOOD
The United States’ policy of strategic altruism toward India was most clearly articulated in Foreign Affairs in 2019 by former U.S. Ambassador to India Robert Blackwill and the South Asia scholar and former National Security Council member Ashley Tellis. Blackwill and Tellis argued that, beginning at the turn of the century, U.S. foreign policy officials realized it would be inherently beneficial for the United States if India emerged as a fast-growing, democratic, and militarily capable power in Asia. With Beijing emerging as a strategic competitor, Washington came to see New Delhi not only as a natural partner but as an Asian power with a shared interest in preventing China from dominating the region and undermining the rules-based international order. A stronger, more prosperous India could serve as a counterweight to an assertive, authoritarian China.
U.S. foreign-policy makers believed that the long-term strategic convergence with India outweighed the inevitable frictions the two countries might experience on other issues, such as climate change, trade, or reform of the multilateral system. As the authors wrote: “Generous U.S. policies were not merely a favor to New Delhi; they were a conscious exercise of strategic altruism. When contemplating various forms of political support for India, U.S. leaders did not ask, ‘What can India do for us?’ They hoped that India’s upward trajectory would shift the Asian balance of power in ways favorable to the United States.”
To preserve the relationship, India must now be generous to the United States.
Although strategic altruism was never enshrined in official doctrine, it underpinned U.S. policy toward India for two decades. To be sure, successive U.S. administrations placed their own stamp on the budding partnership. The George W. Bush administration prioritized a landmark civil nuclear deal in 2005 that was approved by the International Atomic Energy Agency in 2008, eventually removing India from the ranks of nuclear pariahs. The Obama administration perceived India as a linchpin in its “pivot to Asia” and a crucial protagonist in its vision of a “free and open Indo-Pacific.” Trump’s first term, despite its volatility, maintained continuity. Following China’s reckless incursions in 2020 along the disputed border in the rugged Himalayan region separating the two countries, India began to shed long-standing caution about antagonizing Beijing. This paved the way for the rejuvenation of the Indo-Pacific partnership known as the Quad (bringing together Australia, India, Japan, and the United States) and expanded bilateral defense and diplomatic collaboration between India and the United States. The Biden administration strengthened these partnerships and added a new element—an ambitious new framework for collaborating with India on critical and emerging technologies that resulted in joint initiatives on semiconductor manufacturing, codevelopment and coproduction of sensitive defense systems, and increased collaboration on space exploration and research.
Strategic altruism encountered speed bumps in the first Trump administration, when the president’s “America first” rhetoric left little room for magnanimity. But Trump’s penchant for transactionalism was tempered by several factors. First, several cabinet officials in the first Trump term were members of the traditional Republican foreign policy elite for whom the challenge posed by China, and India’s intrinsic utility to the United States in helping deal with that challenge, were hugely important. Their presence insulated India from the full brunt of Trump’s mercurial tendencies.
Second, the COVID-19 pandemic suspended normal diplomatic activity, drawing attention away from points of friction in the bilateral relationship that might have received more attention in the Trump White House. Instead, India’s generic pharmaceutical industry emerged as a critical asset during the pandemic and made New Delhi a more sympathetic partner for Washington, especially given that India also experienced significant pandemic-related deaths and dislocation.
Third, China’s risky 2020 border gambit offered a pretext for India and the United States to deepen cooperation in the sensitive areas of intelligence sharing, defense coproduction, and space collaboration. After years spent nudging India to align its cautious public messaging about China with its more strident private rhetoric, the United States found it was pushing on an open door. U.S.-Indian relations emerged from Trump’s first term in better shape than U.S. ties with many (if not most) other countries—reinforcing the notion that Democrats and Republicans agreed on India even when they agreed on little else.
WHAT’S IN IT FOR ME?
With Trump’s victory in the November 2024 presidential election, many in India believed the country was well positioned to manage his return, given the experience of his first term. It has slowly become clear to Indian policymakers, however, that while Trump 1.0 was unpredictable, Trump 2.0 is unbound.
The second Trump administration is driven by an unyielding conviction that the United States has been badly taken advantage of, especially by its so-called allies and partners. Trump and his lieutenants claim that the United States has borne a disproportionate share of the burden in its myriad partnerships with little reciprocal benefit. Unlike its first iteration, this administration has fewer foreign policy veterans who believe in India’s intrinsic value as a bulwark against China.
In addition to skepticism about partnerships, the current administration’s incoherence about China has left India on uncertain ground. Although it is still early days, this Trump administration’s China policy is strikingly muddled. In Washington, it is an open secret that the administration has not one China strategy but many. Competing factions and schools of thought vie for influence. Trump’s team includes skeptics who downplay the China threat, hard-liners who champion Biden-era curbs on investment and technology, and dealmakers (possibly including Trump himself) who dream of a personal détente with Chinese leader Xi Jinping. In New Delhi, Indian officials struggle to parse the mixed signals.
In this Trump administration, few officials believe in India’s intrinsic value.
Trump has thus ended—or at least paused—the U.S. policy of strategic altruism. If successive U.S. leaders refrained from asking, “What can India do for us?” the current administration is shouting this question from the rooftops. Indeed, it is instructive that the administration has conditioned a broader dialogue with New Delhi on India acceding to several key demands.
First, as part of its policy of “reciprocal tariffs,” the Trump administration has threatened India with an across-the-board 26 percent tariff unless it delivers generous trade and market access concessions. India has emerged as one of the most enthusiastic suitors of a trade pact with the United States, with a tentative deal expected to be reached before the president’s new, arbitrary August 1 deadline. Although this “early harvest” deal may outline only basic terms, officials on both sides hope for a formal pact by this fall’s Quad summit in New Delhi.
Second, the administration has publicly pressed India to increase purchases of U.S.-made defense equipment. Although India has long relied on Russian arms imports, it has meaningfully diversified its portfolio of new purchases over the last decade, increasing the military equipment it buys from the West—notably from France, Israel, and the United States. In a February meeting with Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi, Trump floated the possibility of granting India access to buy cutting-edge F-35 stealth fighter jets, an offer normally restricted to the closest U.S. allies. India currently buys more arms from Russia and France than from the United States. Although it is unlikely that the United States could become India’s preferred military supplier even if New Delhi were so inclined—cost considerations alone would rule this out—Trump’s team believes India has been slow to accelerate the purchase of U.S. weapons.
Finally, the administration has also implored India to do more on energy. It wants India to buy more U.S. liquid natural gas and oil, and India seems to be complying. In 2025 alone, India has more than doubled its oil imports from the United States. Washington is also lobbying New Delhi to amend its liability laws to allow for foreign firms to invest in the country’s civilian nuclear sector—the prime reason why the celebrated U.S.-Indian civil nuclear deal has never been consummated. Although the ink on the bilateral accord has long dried, India’s onerous regulations regarding liability issues continue to stymie American investment in Indian nuclear reactors.
RETURNING THE FAVOR
With strategic altruism in Washington on ice, India faces a new reality: New Delhi may have to swallow the bitter pill of making sacrifices today for the promise of security and prosperity tomorrow. In this reversal, it is India—not the United States—that must embrace delayed reciprocity, delivering tangible benefits without expecting short-term returns. For a country that has long prized strategic autonomy, this posture is an uncomfortable departure, although perhaps a necessary one. In the short term, it allows India to withstand the Trump storm in the hopes that either the current administration tempers its transactionalism or that it is eventually followed by a more traditional, strategically minded administration. Over the long run, India’s need for a strategic partnership with the United States remains as vital as it has been for the past quarter century.
That is because India requires significant foreign capital to help finance its ambitious domestic transformation. Although India’s trend growth of roughly 6.5 percent is robust by global standards, it is inadequate given the country’s development goals and the urgent needs of its burgeoning, young, and rapidly urbanizing workforce. To realize the Modi government’s vision of attaining developed-country status by 2047—an aspiration that implies a $30 trillion economy—India will require a massive influx of investment. At present, foreign direct investment inflows into India are muted; last fiscal year, India recorded its lowest level of net FDI inflows in at least two decades. For India to return to double-digit growth rates, renewed investment from the United States will be paramount.
India also needs American support in matters of security. The conflict with Pakistan in May underscored that India was fighting not one neighboring adversary but two; Pakistan used Chinese weapons systems to repel Indian attacks, relied on Chinese satellite imagery of Indian assets, and received real-time intelligence from Beijing on battlefield movements. India’s strategic vulnerability to China has only grown in recent years. Both countries remain locked in an unresolved standoff in the mountains of Ladakh, China has expanded its military infrastructure in the border region, and Beijing continues to encircle India through economic and military advances across South Asia. Despite its rhetoric of strategic autonomy, India cannot deter China alone; its defense posture and economic resilience hinge on American partnership to varying degrees.
So, too, do India’s technological ambitions. India boasts world-class engineering talent, but it lacks the necessary resources and infrastructure to be an industry leader in the rapidly expanding field of artificial intelligence. In February 2026, India will host the next global AI summit. U.S. officials have privately suggested that this gathering could be an opportunity for large U.S.-based tech giants to unveil major investments in state-of-the-art AI infrastructure across India. Indeed, much of India’s tech talent has found a home not in India but in the United States. Often dismissed as a source of “brain drain,” the migration corridor between the two countries—the sixth largest globally—also brings substantial gains. In the last fiscal year alone, India received over $135 billion in remittances from around the world, nearly 30 percent of which originated in the United States.
DOMESTIC PRESSURES, GLOBAL IMPERATIVES
Within India, adopting a policy of strategic altruism toward the United States does carry risks. Modi’s ruling Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) has long cultivated a muscular, nationalist image in contrast to the dovish, secular Indian National Congress. Concessions to Trump risk undercutting that image, especially given recent accusations that Modi yielded to White House pressure to finalize a cease-fire with Pakistan in May.
On the substance of its concessions, here, too, India will have to tread carefully. Energy and defense purchases may not be the stuff of mass political campaigns, but issues related to farmers and agriculture are. If India makes significant market access concessions to cater to American agricultural interests, Modi’s government will come dangerously close to touching the third rail of Indian politics. This is why India is more likely to offer the United States tariff relief on products such as ethanol, almonds, wine, and spirits rather than on staples such as rice, wheat, or dairy products.
With India’s economy punching below its weight, however, Modi’s inner circle realizes the status quo is no longer tenable. In recent years, India has raised tariffs, steadfastly remained outside mega-regional trade pacts, and subsidized domestic industry to stimulate investment. Collectively, these protectionist measures have failed to trigger an economic takeoff. If Modi can deftly use Trump as a foil—framing domestic tariff cuts as a tactical move to placate a capricious U.S. president—he can unlock trade reforms that better integrate India into global supply chains and yield long-term economic gains.
If anybody has the latitude to make such concessions to a bullying Washington, Modi does. Although the Modi-led BJP suffered a temporary setback in last year’s general elections, it remains dominant. In regional elections held over the past year, the ruling party decisively defeated opponents in key states, defying predictions of “peak Modi.” Few elected leaders enjoy Modi’s political space to take the high road with Trump. If he does so, he might succeed in insulating the U.S.-Indian relationship from the tumultuous present to reap the benefits of a more congenial future.
Some Indian strategists rightly worry that it takes a dangerous leap of faith to bet on the United States returning to moderation in 2028. But the alternative—strategic estrangement—could come at an even greater cost. In an era of global uncertainty, strategic altruism may be the highest form of self-interest India can exercise.
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