Deja Vu: Citizenship, Oppression, and a Future That Looks Alarmingly Similar to our Past

Article by Simar Jolly

“ . . . They had no rights which the white man was bound to respect…”

- Chief Justice Roger Taney on Dred Scott v. Sandford

A mahogany-lined room with tiered desks—the items that lay on top of it rendered forgettable in comparison to the small, vibrantly colored hand-held American flag—is the backdrop against which so many people achieve a dream that guided them through years of turmoil: American citizenship. According to the United States Citizenship and Immigration Services, in the past year, more than 800,000 individuals who were living in the United States became official citizens of the country. On average, the day of naturalization came after a seven and a half year struggle for citizenship. For some the process is easier than others, with factors such as country of origin, employment, and family ties affecting the outcome.

The discourse over what it means to be a United States citizen has been at the center of political rhetoric today—and for good reason. On January 20, 2025, the first day of Donald Trump’s second term, the President passed an executive order titled “Protecting the Meaning and Value of American Citizenship.” In it, Trump effectively abrogated the principle of birthright citizenship, a right enshrined in the United States Constitution. In it, President Trump strips those whose parents were not lawful permanent residents—even if they were on a student or work visa—of birthright citizenship.

Fortunately, this executive order held little weight in front of the courts, but it does raise some important questions. This blatant violation of the Constitution was justified, however, for the Trump Administration because (in their own words) this order is ‘protecting the meaning and value of American citizenship’—but what is the meaning and value of American Citizenship? Why do we suddenly need to protect it? Most importantly, who do we need to protect it from? These important questions will be at the forefront of this article as we move through the history of citizenship in America and what it tells us about our future.

The Constitution, a living document that has guided our experiment in democracy for more than two centuries, is one of the most revered documents in American History—and yet, there is little to no mention about citizenship in the original document. In fact, the extent of its mention is just to the fact that citizenship exists, there is no rule or designation as to who is or can be a citizen of the United States.

As one could imagine, the founding fathers’ lack of instruction on the matter, made both state and national citizenship disputed matters. Two views emerged. One suggested that if one was a citizen of a state then he/she would become citizens of the country. Some limitations of this approach were that it didn’t factor in those who lived in the District of Columbia or other non-state federal territories. The other view was much simpler: if you were born on American soil, then you were an American citizen.

However, all of this was unofficial and the matter of citizenship remained the subject of controversy until 1857, when the Supreme Court passed a historic ruling.

Dred Scott, a slave in Missouri, had sued John Sanford, the executor of his former master’s estate. His case was simple. From 1833 to 1843, Scott lived in Illinois, which was a part of the Louisiana territory where slavery was illegal under the provisions of the 1820 Missouri Compromise. Once Dred Scott returned to Missouri, he filed suit with the argument that since he was a resident in a free territory, he was a free man. However, he lost. Unwavered, Scott brought forward the case to the Supreme Court, where the issue no longer became about whether or not Scott was free or a slave, but if Scott was a person.

United States Supreme Court Chief Justice Roger B. Taney ruled that African Americans were not and could not be citizens of this country. Taney discredited the Founders’ words in the Declaration of Independence, telling us that the phrase “all men were created equal” was never meant to be applied to Black Americans. In the Supreme Court opinion he wrote—filled with racist, derogatory rhetoric—Taney justified his decision by calling African Americans “an inferior order” that was “so far inferior, that they had no rights which the white man was bound to respect.” As obscene this ruling is, it was not surprising for the Taney court, which was dominated by pro-slavery judges.

This ruling became especially tricky after the Civil War and the ratification of the 13th amendment, which abolished the practice of slavery in all states. In order to guarantee the right to citizenship to the recently freedmen, Congress passed the 14th amendment, which officially established the principle of birthright citizenship. Nevertheless, the practice of the United States government intervening to decide who is and isn’t allowed to be a citizen continued far after that.

As mentioned before, the Constitution makes little mention of citizenship; similarly, the document does not mention immigration once. The document does however mention naturalization, and assigns the process as one of the duties of the Congress. As a result, the Supreme Court assigned constitutional power surrounding immigration to Congress. Historically, Congress has passed and upheld laws that discriminated against individuals seeking entry on the basis of factors such as ethnicity and political beliefs.

The most notable of these policies are the Chinese Exclusion Acts. Beginning in the 1850s, Chinese workers migrated to America in order to labor in gold mines, agricultural jobs, and factory work. Chinese immigrants made a particularly immense impact on the construction of railroads on the Western Frontier. While initially Chinese labor was greatly appreciated, it did not take long before an anti-Chinese sentiment began to emerge.

Consequently, legislation was passed that limited future immigration of Chinese workers into the country and forbade re-entry for the Chinese workers who had already established a career, a family–a life–in the United States. Advocates for anti-Chinese legislation primarily argued in two directions: racial purity and societal standards. It would not be until 1943—nearly a century after the Chinese Exclusion acts were enacted—that they were finally repealed, and even then only because it assisted wartime efforts during World War II.

Now, what does all of this have to do with citizenship today? It’s simple. Our future is becoming eerily reminiscent of a dark past.

We have to understand that Citizenship can not be the benchmark for human dignity, for human decency. Whether it was Chief Justice Taney in his decision against African Americans or Congress passing and upholding the Chinese Exclusion Act for nearly a century, our history is filled with people who seek to use citizenship not as a means to propel one’s status in life but rather as a weapon. That is who we need to protect American citizenship from. Our history is filled with people who would target the vulnerable and attack their right to choose their own state in life. That is who we need to protect American citizenship from. Our history is filled with people who would strip the rights of individuals on the basis of factors they can not control. That is who we need to protect American citizenship from.

Regardless of whether or not you agree with President Donald Trump’s actions, you must recognize the danger in his ideology. Jack M. Balkan, a professor at Yale University’s Law School and Sanford Levinson, a professor at the University of Texas’s Las School, explain that when we try to decide who is entitled to the rights of citizenship we evoke the same thought with which figures of our past made shameful decisions. The closer we get to thinking that anyone has any say on who is acceptable to be treated within their rights, the closer we get to thinking like the deplorable figures of our past.

We must strive to move forward, not backwards. If we seek to protect our country’s citizenship, let’s protect it for the vulnerable, the targeted, and the unfortunate, not from them.