If I didn’t go this year, maybe… Indian students split between going to Harvard and staying

In May, the US Department of Homeland Security (DHS) stripped Harvard of its certification to host international students. Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem accused the university of fostering a “hostile” campus climate for Jewish students and of refusing to hand over surveillance footage and disciplinary records of foreign students tied to protests. The move locked Harvard out of SEVIS, the federal database that governs visas, and gave it 72 hours to comply. For more than 7,000 foreign students on campus, including nearly 800 Indians, the decision created sudden legal jeopardy. For those admitted for Fall 2025, it felt like a dream dissolving overnight.

Harvard pushed back in court, calling the revocation “a series of government actions to retaliate against Harvard for our refusal to surrender our academic independence.” A temporary restraining order gave the university some breathing room. But for incoming international students, the uncertainty remained.

The Delhi principal weighed her options. “I was overwhelmed, yes, but I knew reversals had happened before,” she said. “If I didn’t go this year, maybe I would go next year. But for many younger than me, that is not the case. It would be a huge loss of opportunity.”

On July 29, after her social media accounts were scrutinised, she got her visa. She packed her bags and flew to Boston. Today, she attends lectures on curriculum design and leadership.

There were others like her who decided to take the plunge. A 26-year-old from Gujarat, admitted to Harvard’s Kennedy School with a prestigious fellowship, remembers the dilemma vividly. “It felt theatrical, almost unreal. But I told myself — if I don’t take this chance, I’ll regret it forever.” He now begins his coursework in public policy, though he admits the unease lingers. “Every conversation with classmates carries the echo of that crisis. As international students, we need to be careful, lay low and just do what we came here to do.”

For many, however, the risks were too great.

A 24-year-old policy consultant from Haryana, admitted to Harvard’s Master’s in Public Policy, chose to defer. “I had already paid $700 as a deposit, that’s nearly a month’s salary… and it was non-refundable,” he said. “But what terrified me more was the idea that even if I reached, I could be thrown out any time. I didn’t want to live like that, feeling like an outsider everyday.”

For him, pressing pause was a painful compromise. “Harvard was my dream,” he said. “To watch it collapse so suddenly, to be forced to press pause, feels like betrayal.”

Another 25-year-old from Delhi, admitted to the MPA program at the Kennedy School, echoed the same fears. “It was about what happens after. Would we get jobs? Would employers hesitate to hire us? Could we really build a life there, or would we always be looking over our shoulder?” he said. “It felt like gambling with everything I had. I had taken a huge loan, to clear that I need to work in the US, if I can’t do that, then I’ll have to put my family through debt and that is a risk I am not willing to take.”

For now, students like him have stayed back in India, continuing with jobs or searching for other opportunities, hoping that one day they will still walk the halls of Harvard.

Those already enrolled remember the turmoil vividly. A 28-year-old from Delhi, midway through his master’s, said the hardest part was watching his parents worry from afar. “As Indians, everything connects back to the family. The mental health toll is not just on us, but on our parents, who keep asking if we are safe, if we will be forced out,” he said.

“Every week there is a new development and there is a lot of uncertainty for international students in the US. We don’t even know how to navigate this. It’s extremely overwhelming,” he added.

Meanwhile, Harvard itself is undergoing visible change. Freshmen this year arrived on a campus reshaped by political pressure. The Harvard Crimson reported that mandated antisemitism training followed accusations from the White House that the university fostered a hostile environment for Jewish students. Residential staff were also required to attend sessions. At the same time, Harvard shuttered the College Women’s Center, the Office for BGLTQ Student Life, and the Foundation for Intercultural and Race Relations.

Harvard has said these closures were part of a years-long restructuring of campus life, but they coincided with Trump administration demands: more support for Jewish students, but elimination of race- and gender-based programs, which officials called illegal. Pre-orientation programs were also restructured, affinity events canceled, and ties with outside activists cut.

Now, as the Class of 2029 begins its journey in Harvard Yard, international students remain caught in the crosscurrents of law, politics, and identity.

This fall, the Indian cohort is split. Some have taken their seats in Cambridge classrooms, carrying the weight of uncertainty every day. Others sit thousands of miles away, their acceptance letters gathering dust, wondering if the opportunity will ever come again.