Zayn Malik and Zohran Mamdani are living proof that being brown and Muslim still isn’t enough to belong – not in politics, not in pop culture.

It’s 2025, and somehow we’re still here. Still watching brown men justify their existence. Still seeing South Asian Muslims told they don’t belong. Still pretending this is progress when it looks a lot like survival. Zayn Malik and Zohran Mamdani are on two very different paths — one ruling global music charts, the other running for mayor of New York City. But both are reminders that no matter how far you go, there are always people ready to remind you that you’re not quite “one of them.
Zayn Malik: British, Brown, and Still Not Enough
Zayn Malik is British. Born in Bradford, raised in the UK. His mother is English. His father is Pakistani. Yet somehow, he was never just allowed to be British. When One Direction formed in 2010, Zayn was 17, the only person of color in the band, and the only one who had to carry his identity like a shield.
This month, he previewed his new song Fuchsia Sea and rapped, “I worked hard in a White band, and they still laughed at the Asian.” That line wasn’t just personal – it hit a nerve with every South Asian kid who’s ever been in a room where they felt both visible and invisible at the same time.
Zayn was global. He had it all – the fans, the fame, the stage. But behind the scenes, he was being dragged into Islamophobic conspiracy theories, linked to terrorism without cause, targeted online for his religion, his background, his name. And he stayed quiet for years. Until now. Now, he’s speaking up. And it matters – because it shows that even global success doesn’t shield you from being seen as “foreign.”
Zohran Mamdani: Born Elsewhere, Raised in America — Still Seen as a Threat

Then there’s Zohran Mamdani, New York City’s Democratic mayoral candidate. He was born to Indian parents, moved to the U.S. as a child, and is now a citizen. A proud South Asian Muslim who wants to make his city more livable; rent freezes, public groceries, dignity for immigrants.
And yet, here comes Donald Trump, threatening to strip him of his citizenship and have him arrested. Why? Because he dared to stand up to ICE. Because he called out the system that deports, detains, and denies. Trump called him a “communist,” said “I’ll be watching him,” and hinted that Mamdani’s very presence in America is a problem. This isn’t just political mudslinging. It’s an old game dressed in new language. The “you don’t belong here” narrative, recycled once again — just louder, meaner, and more dangerous.
This Isn’t About Two Men — It’s About a Deeper Problem
What these two stories expose is something much deeper: the system doesn’t just mistrust difference – it punishes it. Zayn and Zohran are both successful, visible, and accomplished. And yet, the moment they speak in their own voice – as brown, Muslim, South Asian men – the backlash is instant. This isn’t random. It’s not personal. It’s part of a wider, embedded system that continues to treat brownness and Muslim identity as something suspicious, something to be questioned, something that always has to be explained. It reveals how deep this discomfort with “the other” really runs – in politics, in pop culture, in everyday life.
A Story Too Many of Us Know
Zayn and Zohran are famous. But their stories aren’t rare. This is what life looks like for so many South Asian Muslims – whether you’re in a London classroom, a U.S. workplace, or scrolling through your feed. You’re told to be grateful. To be polite. To integrate just enough – but not so much that it makes others uncomfortable. Because the moment you speak up, the moment you refuse to blend in – you’re the problem again.
Social media is full of it: hate-filled reels, comment sections dripping with Islamophobia, jokes about your food, your faith, your skin, your name. And it wears you down. Not all at once – but slowly, steadily, quietly.
Even the language of “belonging” feels conditional. Zayn had an English mother, was raised in Britain, and still was never treated like he truly fit in. Zohran is a U.S. citizen and elected lawmaker, and still his place is questioned – because in the eyes of power, a brown man who talks back is always a little too foreign.
This Isn’t About Headlines, It’s About Who We Are
The world sees Zayn on stage and hears the voice. It sees Mamdani in politics and hears the fire. But underneath all that is a familiar story of having to prove you’re worthy of being where you are. Of never being allowed to just be.
We can’t keep pretending this is normal. We can’t keep telling young South Asian Muslims to dream big if the cost of success is swallowing their identity. We can’t celebrate representation while ignoring the racism that still greets it with suspicion.
It’s 2025. Maybe it’s finally time we stopped asking South Asian Muslims to prove they belong and started asking why the world still can’t accept that they already do
Sources: Dawn Images, Billboard, Daily Times, UnHerd, Eurasia Review
