In the quiet streets of Waterloo, Ontario, a South Asian man was verbally assaulted by a stranger who accused him of “taking over” Canada. This incident, though seemingly isolated, reveals the simmering tensions in societies grappling with an influx of migrants. The confrontation was not just about personal animosity; it was a stark manifestation of how anti-immigrant sentiment, when normalised in political discourse, filters into everyday interactions. As nations confront increasing migration pressures — whether driven by conflict, climate change, or economic instability — the question of whether immigrants can truly assimilate into their host societies remains more pressing than ever.
Migration, historically seen as a means of survival and adaptation, is becoming one of the most divisive issues of our time. In the US, Donald Trump’s victory in the recent elections has once again placed immigration under the spotlight. The introduction of Project 2025, which proposes stringent controls on border security and a reduction in legal protections for migrants, underscores a growing global trend toward isolationism. Meanwhile, in Canada, a country once hailed as a beacon of multiculturalism, political leaders are now cutting back on immigration numbers, blaming newcomers for exacerbating housing shortages and healthcare crises. In both countries, anti-immigrant rhetoric is not only shaping policies but also fuelling everyday acts of hatred and violence against those perceived as “the other”.
The idea of cultural assimilation is not new. In the US, a country built on waves of immigration, scholars like Ran Abramitzky and Leah Boustan have shown through historical census data that the children of immigrants have consistently integrated into the economic and social fabric of American life. Immigrants from the late 19th century to those arriving today continue to work low-wage jobs while ensuring that their children climb the socioeconomic ladder. Yet, despite empirical evidence that assimilation remains robust, the narrative that migrants today are unwilling or unable to integrate into their host cultures persists.
In reality, the barriers to assimilation are not solely about cultural differences or the willingness of immigrants to adopt new norms. Rather, they are shaped by the structural and societal forces that define who belongs. The resurgence of nationalist rhetoric, especially in countries like the US and Canada, feeds on fears of cultural dilution and economic displacement. This sentiment is amplified when politicians leverage xenophobia for electoral gains, turning immigrants into convenient scapegoats for systemic problems. The result? A climate of suspicion and exclusion, where the social and psychological well-being of migrants is put at risk.
While economic and political factors have long driven migration, the climate crisis is now a critical force reshaping migration patterns. The World Migration Report 2024 projects that over 216 million people will be displaced by climate change by 2050. In India, climate impacts such as droughts in Maharashtra, floods in Assam, and reduced agricultural productivity in Punjab are already pushing rural workers into urban centres. Unlike international migrants, these internal migrants face the challenge of assimilating into diverse regions within India, where customs, language, and cuisine differ starkly.
Cultural assimilation is not limited to international migrants in India; interstate migration also sparks tensions. For example, the movement of people from Bihar and Uttar Pradesh into Maharashtra has provoked xenophobic responses from locals who see migrants as competitors for scarce resources. This highlights the complex narrative of India’s internal migration, where climate-driven displacement intersects with regional identity conflicts.
Anti-immigrant sentiment is not isolated to North America. Across Europe, far-right parties exploit fears of the “Great Replacement” theory, which posits that non-white immigrants are “replacing” native populations. Similarly, Canada has seen a rise in hate speech targeting South Asians, mirroring the xenophobic narratives prevalent in the US and Europe. Hate crimes in Canada, especially against racialised groups, have surged; in 2023, 44.5 per cent of hate incidents were racially motivated, illustrating how rhetoric can quickly fuel violence.
Recent political campaigns, like those of Donald Trump, inflame these tensions by depicting migrants as security threats. Policy moves like the removal of Temporary Protected Status (TPS) and restrictions on student visas, proposed under Project 2025, could leave over a million people without legal protection, worsening the precarious conditions immigrants already face.
The need for a nuanced view of migration is urgent. Migration should not merely be managed as a “problem”; it is often an adaptive strategy for those fleeing conflict, economic hardship, and climate impacts. If managed correctly, migration can benefit host economies and help people escape climate impacts, as noted in UN reports. Policies supporting cultural assimilation should prioritise pathways to citizenship, access to social services, and investments in language and skills training. For India, facing both internal and external migration, fostering social cohesion and equitable development is crucial. When given resources, migrants contribute to and enrich host communities economically and culturally.
As nations wrestle with the twin crises of climate change and political instability, the question is not whether migrants can assimilate but whether we are willing to create the conditions for them to do so. The rhetoric of division may win votes, but it will not solve the deeper structural issues driving migration. To build a more resilient and inclusive society, we must resist the politics of fear and recognise that, at their core, migrants are not threats but partners in building a better future.
(The writers are with National Council for Applied Economic Research, New Delhi. Views are personal)
