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From: Tsegai Emmanuel (emmanuelt40@gmail.com)
Date: Wed Jul 21 2010 - 04:32:58 EDT
Geopolitics, Nationalism and Dual Citizenship
July 20, 2010
By George Friedman
Geopolitics is central to STRATFOR’s methodology, providing the framework
upon which we study the world. The foundation of geopolitics in our time is
the study of the nation-state, and fundamental to this is the question of
the relationship of the individual to the nation-state. Changes in the
relationship of the individual to the nation and to the state are
fundamental issues in geopolitics, and thus worth discussing.
Many issues affect this complex relationship, notable among them the
increasing global trend of multiple citizenship. This is obviously linked to
the question of immigration, but it also raises a deeper question, namely,
what is the meaning of citizenship in the 21st century?
Nation vs. State
It is difficult to make sense of the international system without making
sense of the nation-state. The concept is complicated by a reality that
includes multinational states like Belgium, where national identity plays a
significant role, and Russia or China, where it can be both significant and
at times violent. In looking at the nation-state, the idea of nation is more
complex, and perhaps more interesting, than that of state.
The idea of nation is not always clear. At root, a nation is a group of
people who share a fate, and with that fate, an identity. Nations can be
consciously created, as the United States was. Nations can exist for
hundreds or thousands of years, as seen in parts of Europe or Asia. However
long a nation exists and whatever its origins, a nation is founded on what
I’ve called elsewhere “love of one’s own,” a unique relationship with the
community in which an individual is born or to which he chose to come. That
affinity is the foundation of a nation.
If that dissolves, the nation dissolves, something that has happened on
numerous occasions in history. If a nation disappears, the international
system begins to behave differently. And if nations in general lose their
identity and cohesion, massive shifts might take place. Some might say it
would be for better and others for worse. It is sufficient to note here that
either way would make a profound difference.
The state is much clearer: It is the political directorate of the nation.
How the leaders are selected and how they govern varies widely. The
relationship of the state to the nation also varies widely. All nations do
not have states. Some are occupied by other nation-states. Some are divided
between multiple states. Some are part of an entity that governs many
nations. And some are communities that have developed systems of government
that do not involve states, although this is increasingly rare.
The relation to the nation is personal. The relation to the state is legal.
We can see this linguistically in the case of the United States. I can state
my relation to my nation simply: I am an American. I cannot state my
relationship to my state nearly as simply. Saying I am a “United Statian”
makes no sense. I have to say that I am a citizen of the United States, to
state my legal relationship, not personal affinity. The linguistic
complexity of the United States doesn’t repeat itself everywhere, but a
distinction does exist between nationality and citizenship. They may
coincide easily, as when a person is born in a country and becomes a citizen
simply through that, or they may develop, as when an individual is permitted
to immigrate and become naturalized. Note the interesting formulation of
that term, as it implies the creation of a natural relationship with the
state.
In the United States, the following oath is administered when one is
permitted to become a citizen, generally five years after being permitted to
immigrate:
I hereby declare, on oath, that I absolutely and entirely renounce and
abjure all allegiance and fidelity to any foreign prince, potentate, state,
or sovereignty of whom or which I have heretofore been a subject or citizen;
that I will support and defend the Constitution and laws of the United
States of America against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will
bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I will bear arms on behalf
of the United States when required by the law; that I will perform
noncombatant service in the Armed Forces of the United States when required
by the law; that I will perform work of national importance under civilian
direction when required by the law; and that I take this obligation freely
without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; so help me God.
I should say I took this oath at the age of 17. Although I became a citizen
of the United States when my father was naturalized years earlier, receiving
my own citizenship papers involved going to a courthouse and taking this
oath personally. Being confronted with the obligations of citizenship was a
sobering experience.
The American oath is one of the most rigorous; other nations have much
simpler and less demanding oaths. Intriguingly, many countries with less
explicitly demanding oaths are also countries where becoming a naturalized
citizen is more difficult and less common. For the United States, a nation
and a state that were consciously invented, the idea of immigration was
inherent in the very idea of the nation, as was this oath. Immigration and
naturalization required an oath of this magnitude, as naturalization meant
taking on not only a new state identity but also a new national identity.
The American nation was built on immigrants from other nations. Unless they
were prepared to “absolutely and entirely renounce and abjure all allegiance
and fidelity to any foreign prince, potentate, state, or sovereignty of whom
or which I have heretofore been a subject or citizen,” the American
enterprise could fall into chaos as immigrants came to the United States to
secure the benefits of full citizenship but refused to abandon prior
obligations and refused to agree to the obligations and sacrifices the oath
demanded. The United States therefore is in a position shared only with a
few other immigration-based nations, and it has staked out the most
demanding position on naturalization.
The Dual Citizenship Anomaly
It is therefore odd that the United States — along with many other nations —
permits nationals to be citizens of other countries. The U.S. Constitution
doesn’t bar this, but the oath of citizenship would seem to do so. The oath
demands that the immigrant abandon all obligations to foreign states. The
U.S. Supreme Court ruled in Afroyim v. Rusk in 1967 that revoking
citizenship on grounds of voting in foreign elections was unconstitutional.
The ruling involved a naturalized American who presumably had taken the
oath. The Supreme Court left the oath in place, but if we are to understand
the court correctly, it ruled that the oath did not preclude multiple
citizenship.
It is impossible to know how many people in the United States or other
countries currently hold multiple citizenship, but anecdotally it would
appear that the practice is not uncommon. Not being required to renounce
one’s foreign citizenship verifiably obviously facilitates the practice.
And this raises a fundamental question. Is citizenship a license to live and
earn a living in a country, or is it equally or more so a set of legal and
moral obligations? There are many ways legally to reside in a country
without becoming a citizen. But the American oath, for example, makes it
appear that the naturalized citizen (as opposed to just the legal resident)
has an overriding obligation to the United States that can require
substantial and onerous responsibilities within military and civilian life.
An individual might be able to juggle multiple obligations until they came
into conflict. Does the citizen choose his prime obligation at that time or
when he becomes a citizen?
The reality is that in many cases, citizenship is seen less as a system of
mutual obligations and rights than as a convenience. This creates an obvious
tension between the citizen and his obligations under his oath. But it also
creates a deep ambiguity between his multiple nationalities. The concept of
immigration involves the idea of movement to a new place. It involves the
assumption of legal and moral obligations. But it also involves a commitment
to the nation, at least as far as citizenship goes. This has nothing to do
with retaining ethnicity. It has to do with a definition of what it means to
love one’s own — if you are a citizen of multiple nations, which nation is
yours?
It is interesting to note that the United States has been equally ambiguous
about serving in other countries’ militaries. John Paul Jones served as an
admiral in the Russian navy. American pilots flew for Britain and China
prior to American entry into World War II. They did not take the citizenship
oath, having been born in the United States. While you could argue that
there was an implicit oath, you could also argue that they did not
compromise their nationality: They remained Americans even in fighting for
other countries. The immigration issue is more complex, however. In electing
to become American citizens, immigrants consciously take the citizenship
oath. The explicit oath would seem to create a unique set of obligations for
naturalized immigrants.
The Pull of the Old Country
Apart from acquiring convenient passports on obscure tropical islands, the
dual citizenship phenomenon appears to operate by linking ancestral
homelands with adopted countries. Immigrants, and frequently their children
and grandchildren, retain their old citizenship alongside citizenship in the
country they now live in. This seems a benign practice and remains so until
there is conflict or disagreement between the two countries — or where, as
in some cases, the original country demands military service as the price of
retaining citizenship.
In immigrant countries in particular, the blurring of the line between
nationalities becomes a potential threat in a way that it is not for the
country of origin. The sense of national identity (if not willingness to
sacrifice for it) is often stronger in countries whose nationhood is built
on centuries of shared history and fates than it is in countries that must
manage waves of immigration. These countries have less room for maneuver on
these matters, unless they have the fortune to be secure and need not ask
much of citizens. But in those countries that are built on immigrants and
that do need to call for sacrifice, this evolution is potentially more
troublesome.
There are those who regard nationalism as divisive and harmful, leading to
conflict. I am of the view that nationalism has endured because it provides
individuals with a sense of place, community, history and identity. It gives
individuals something beyond themselves that is small enough to be
comprehensible but far greater than they are. That nationalism can become
monstrous is obviously true; anything that is useful can also become
harmful. But nationalism has survived and flourished for a reason.
The rise of multiple citizenship undoubtedly provides freedom. But as is
frequently the case, the freedom raises the question of what an individual
is committed to beyond himself. In blurring the lines between nations, it
does not seem that it has reduced conflict. Quite the contrary, it raises
the question of where the true loyalties of citizens lie, something
unhealthy for the citizen and the nation-state.
In the United States, it is difficult to reconcile the oath of citizenship
with the Supreme Court’s ruling affirming the right of dual citizenship.
That ambiguity over time could give rise to serious problems. This is not
just an American problem, although it might be more intense and noticeable
here. It is a more general question, namely, what does it mean to be a
citizen?