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A protester holds a sign reading, "No human being is illegal" in Spanish during the "No Kings" national demonstration against US President Donald Trump and federal immigration operations in San Juan, Puerto Rico on June 14, 2025, on the same day as Trump's military parade in Washington, DC.
We must reimagine a world where freedom and equality are guaranteed to all, no matter their status.
There are two main paths to citizenship in the United States: birthright, which is guaranteed to those born on US soil or to citizen parents, and naturalization, a process applied for after immigrating.
The Trump administration is attempting to upend these long-held and widely accepted rules, arguing for an end to birthright citizenship, which is constitutionally protected, while attacking the naturalization status of populations across the country.
These attacks on citizenship come amid a substantial investment in immigration crackdowns. The so-called “Big Beautiful Bill” allocates an unprecedented $178 billion toward immigration enforcement, a figure higher than the military budgets of entire nations and a price tag 13 times greater than Immigration and Customs Enforcement’s (ICE) already booming budget.
And we know exactly what this expansion will be used for.
America’s immigration system must honor human rights for everyone, especially those at the margins.
In just the first few months of the Trump administration, ICE agents donning masks and unmarked clothing have surveilled, interrogated, and kidnapped individuals off the streets en masse. Arbitrary arrest quotas fill overcrowded, inhumane, and unsanitary detention centers. And despite claims that only “criminals” are being targeted, people of all backgrounds—including students, politicians, children, and U.S.-born citizens—are being arrested and abused, stripped of their dignity and humanity.
Trump is undoubtedly culpable for these abuses. But he did not invent the playbook. He simply adapted the rules long built into this country’s citizenship policies—both the implicit and explicit ones.
US citizenship has always been negotiated between those the state deemed worthy and unworthy. Race and gender have long restricted individuals from obtaining citizenship and the privileges granted with it. The 14th Amendment, the guarantor of jus soli, transformed the status and rights of all those to come—myself included. I would not be a US citizen without this code.
But documents and formalities cannot erase the existence of an informal, second-class citizenry that continues to pervade American society.
Native Americans, Indigenous peoples native to these lands, were denied this framework of legality and excluded from guaranteed citizenship for generations. Systems of oppression, domination, and exclusion allowed white bodies to be favored over Black and brown ones—even when they held and waved that landmark document, demanding their civil liberties be guaranteed and protected. Those born in U.S. territories like Puerto Rico and Guam continue to lack meaningful electoral rights and, in American Samoa’s case, even citizenship itself.
An examination of the difficult and lengthy naturalization process reveals further discrepancies. Volume 12 Part F states that individuals must possess “good moral character” to become naturalized, a measure that is both vague and arbitrary. Any conduct or act that deviates from a community’s moral standard is grounds for both denial of citizenship and denaturalization if citizenship is already obtained.
But how is morality defined? Immoral behavior is outlined by the state—murder, aggravated felonies, genocide, and torture are some examples listed. But aggravated felonies also include failing to appear in court. So when we see ICE arresting immigrants at court hearings and scaring others from appearing out of fear of arrest, suddenly the intent behind these actions becomes clear.
In this system, any action or inaction becomes punishable—including the “crime” of being an immigrant. Notably, this “moral character” clause has existed since the Naturalization Act of 1790—a reminder that these pursuits are not a recent political development but built into our founding documents.
Now, the Justice Department is expanding its criteria for denaturalization, using the definitions established by Congress centuries ago. A recent Justice Department memo orders those accused of involvement with terrorist, gang, or cartel groups to be targeted for deportation or even stripped of their citizenship, an indicator of their “immoral character.”
But the administration’s definition of “terrorism” and “criminal involvement” is both flawed and targeted. Kilmar Abrego Garcia, accused of being a member of MS-13, an international criminal gang, was wrongfully deported and imprisoned in El Salvador without due process—a move that was actually illegal, given that a court order barred his deportation to El Salvador on account of the gang threats and violence he faced there.
In another example, Rümeysa Öztürk, a PhD student at Tufts, cowrote an op-ed criticizing the university’s response to resolutions passed by its student body about Israel’s violations of international law. She was subsequently kidnapped and detained in an ICE prison for months.
These are simply two instances of a series of repeated offenses committed by the US government. In an effort to apprehend and throw out immigrants en masse, the state criminalizes individuals for free speech and seeking asylum.
Elsewhere, the right to vote is denied to citizens the US deems unworthy of representation. Essential rights and civil liberties are being stripped from legal residents, mitigating access to the freedoms that have defined America for centuries. More and more individuals are sorted into different tiers of citizenship, soon leaving few with the guarantee of liberty and justice promised to all.
For all its extremism and cruelty, the Trump administration is simply using the tools already available to them. Citizenship requirements contain too many loopholes that are easily exploited. So for progressives, opposing restrictive immigration policies is not enough. We must move beyond an idea of “citizenship” that only guarantees rights according to an individual’s status and reimagine a world that respects the freedom and equality of all people no matter their status.
If “morality” is a requirement for entry, then anything can be redefined as “immoral.” Economic metrics of inclusion fail for the same reason. Nations should not prioritize people solely based on what they can provide to employers. The argument that “immigrants help our economy” only emphasizes the need for individuals with economic value.
America’s immigration system must honor human rights for everyone, especially those at the margins. Those seeking asylum, refuge, education, or simply a better life should not be denied access to civil liberties and fundamental freedoms.
Aren’t these the true American values?
Dear Common Dreams reader, It’s been nearly 30 years since I co-founded Common Dreams with my late wife, Lina Newhouser. We had the radical notion that journalism should serve the public good, not corporate profits. It was clear to us from the outset what it would take to build such a project. No paid advertisements. No corporate sponsors. No millionaire publisher telling us what to think or do. Many people said we wouldn't last a year, but we proved those doubters wrong. Together with a tremendous team of journalists and dedicated staff, we built an independent media outlet free from the constraints of profits and corporate control. Our mission has always been simple: To inform. To inspire. To ignite change for the common good. Building Common Dreams was not easy. Our survival was never guaranteed. When you take on the most powerful forces—Wall Street greed, fossil fuel industry destruction, Big Tech lobbyists, and uber-rich oligarchs who have spent billions upon billions rigging the economy and democracy in their favor—the only bulwark you have is supporters who believe in your work. But here’s the urgent message from me today. It's never been this bad out there. And it's never been this hard to keep us going. At the very moment Common Dreams is most needed, the threats we face are intensifying. We need your support now more than ever. We don't accept corporate advertising and never will. We don't have a paywall because we don't think people should be blocked from critical news based on their ability to pay. Everything we do is funded by the donations of readers like you. When everyone does the little they can afford, we are strong. But if that support retreats or dries up, so do we. Will you donate now to make sure Common Dreams not only survives but thrives? —Craig Brown, Co-founder |
There are two main paths to citizenship in the United States: birthright, which is guaranteed to those born on US soil or to citizen parents, and naturalization, a process applied for after immigrating.
The Trump administration is attempting to upend these long-held and widely accepted rules, arguing for an end to birthright citizenship, which is constitutionally protected, while attacking the naturalization status of populations across the country.
These attacks on citizenship come amid a substantial investment in immigration crackdowns. The so-called “Big Beautiful Bill” allocates an unprecedented $178 billion toward immigration enforcement, a figure higher than the military budgets of entire nations and a price tag 13 times greater than Immigration and Customs Enforcement’s (ICE) already booming budget.
And we know exactly what this expansion will be used for.
America’s immigration system must honor human rights for everyone, especially those at the margins.
In just the first few months of the Trump administration, ICE agents donning masks and unmarked clothing have surveilled, interrogated, and kidnapped individuals off the streets en masse. Arbitrary arrest quotas fill overcrowded, inhumane, and unsanitary detention centers. And despite claims that only “criminals” are being targeted, people of all backgrounds—including students, politicians, children, and U.S.-born citizens—are being arrested and abused, stripped of their dignity and humanity.
Trump is undoubtedly culpable for these abuses. But he did not invent the playbook. He simply adapted the rules long built into this country’s citizenship policies—both the implicit and explicit ones.
US citizenship has always been negotiated between those the state deemed worthy and unworthy. Race and gender have long restricted individuals from obtaining citizenship and the privileges granted with it. The 14th Amendment, the guarantor of jus soli, transformed the status and rights of all those to come—myself included. I would not be a US citizen without this code.
But documents and formalities cannot erase the existence of an informal, second-class citizenry that continues to pervade American society.
Native Americans, Indigenous peoples native to these lands, were denied this framework of legality and excluded from guaranteed citizenship for generations. Systems of oppression, domination, and exclusion allowed white bodies to be favored over Black and brown ones—even when they held and waved that landmark document, demanding their civil liberties be guaranteed and protected. Those born in U.S. territories like Puerto Rico and Guam continue to lack meaningful electoral rights and, in American Samoa’s case, even citizenship itself.
An examination of the difficult and lengthy naturalization process reveals further discrepancies. Volume 12 Part F states that individuals must possess “good moral character” to become naturalized, a measure that is both vague and arbitrary. Any conduct or act that deviates from a community’s moral standard is grounds for both denial of citizenship and denaturalization if citizenship is already obtained.
But how is morality defined? Immoral behavior is outlined by the state—murder, aggravated felonies, genocide, and torture are some examples listed. But aggravated felonies also include failing to appear in court. So when we see ICE arresting immigrants at court hearings and scaring others from appearing out of fear of arrest, suddenly the intent behind these actions becomes clear.
In this system, any action or inaction becomes punishable—including the “crime” of being an immigrant. Notably, this “moral character” clause has existed since the Naturalization Act of 1790—a reminder that these pursuits are not a recent political development but built into our founding documents.
Now, the Justice Department is expanding its criteria for denaturalization, using the definitions established by Congress centuries ago. A recent Justice Department memo orders those accused of involvement with terrorist, gang, or cartel groups to be targeted for deportation or even stripped of their citizenship, an indicator of their “immoral character.”
But the administration’s definition of “terrorism” and “criminal involvement” is both flawed and targeted. Kilmar Abrego Garcia, accused of being a member of MS-13, an international criminal gang, was wrongfully deported and imprisoned in El Salvador without due process—a move that was actually illegal, given that a court order barred his deportation to El Salvador on account of the gang threats and violence he faced there.
In another example, Rümeysa Öztürk, a PhD student at Tufts, cowrote an op-ed criticizing the university’s response to resolutions passed by its student body about Israel’s violations of international law. She was subsequently kidnapped and detained in an ICE prison for months.
These are simply two instances of a series of repeated offenses committed by the US government. In an effort to apprehend and throw out immigrants en masse, the state criminalizes individuals for free speech and seeking asylum.
Elsewhere, the right to vote is denied to citizens the US deems unworthy of representation. Essential rights and civil liberties are being stripped from legal residents, mitigating access to the freedoms that have defined America for centuries. More and more individuals are sorted into different tiers of citizenship, soon leaving few with the guarantee of liberty and justice promised to all.
For all its extremism and cruelty, the Trump administration is simply using the tools already available to them. Citizenship requirements contain too many loopholes that are easily exploited. So for progressives, opposing restrictive immigration policies is not enough. We must move beyond an idea of “citizenship” that only guarantees rights according to an individual’s status and reimagine a world that respects the freedom and equality of all people no matter their status.
If “morality” is a requirement for entry, then anything can be redefined as “immoral.” Economic metrics of inclusion fail for the same reason. Nations should not prioritize people solely based on what they can provide to employers. The argument that “immigrants help our economy” only emphasizes the need for individuals with economic value.
America’s immigration system must honor human rights for everyone, especially those at the margins. Those seeking asylum, refuge, education, or simply a better life should not be denied access to civil liberties and fundamental freedoms.
Aren’t these the true American values?
There are two main paths to citizenship in the United States: birthright, which is guaranteed to those born on US soil or to citizen parents, and naturalization, a process applied for after immigrating.
The Trump administration is attempting to upend these long-held and widely accepted rules, arguing for an end to birthright citizenship, which is constitutionally protected, while attacking the naturalization status of populations across the country.
These attacks on citizenship come amid a substantial investment in immigration crackdowns. The so-called “Big Beautiful Bill” allocates an unprecedented $178 billion toward immigration enforcement, a figure higher than the military budgets of entire nations and a price tag 13 times greater than Immigration and Customs Enforcement’s (ICE) already booming budget.
And we know exactly what this expansion will be used for.
America’s immigration system must honor human rights for everyone, especially those at the margins.
In just the first few months of the Trump administration, ICE agents donning masks and unmarked clothing have surveilled, interrogated, and kidnapped individuals off the streets en masse. Arbitrary arrest quotas fill overcrowded, inhumane, and unsanitary detention centers. And despite claims that only “criminals” are being targeted, people of all backgrounds—including students, politicians, children, and U.S.-born citizens—are being arrested and abused, stripped of their dignity and humanity.
Trump is undoubtedly culpable for these abuses. But he did not invent the playbook. He simply adapted the rules long built into this country’s citizenship policies—both the implicit and explicit ones.
US citizenship has always been negotiated between those the state deemed worthy and unworthy. Race and gender have long restricted individuals from obtaining citizenship and the privileges granted with it. The 14th Amendment, the guarantor of jus soli, transformed the status and rights of all those to come—myself included. I would not be a US citizen without this code.
But documents and formalities cannot erase the existence of an informal, second-class citizenry that continues to pervade American society.
Native Americans, Indigenous peoples native to these lands, were denied this framework of legality and excluded from guaranteed citizenship for generations. Systems of oppression, domination, and exclusion allowed white bodies to be favored over Black and brown ones—even when they held and waved that landmark document, demanding their civil liberties be guaranteed and protected. Those born in U.S. territories like Puerto Rico and Guam continue to lack meaningful electoral rights and, in American Samoa’s case, even citizenship itself.
An examination of the difficult and lengthy naturalization process reveals further discrepancies. Volume 12 Part F states that individuals must possess “good moral character” to become naturalized, a measure that is both vague and arbitrary. Any conduct or act that deviates from a community’s moral standard is grounds for both denial of citizenship and denaturalization if citizenship is already obtained.
But how is morality defined? Immoral behavior is outlined by the state—murder, aggravated felonies, genocide, and torture are some examples listed. But aggravated felonies also include failing to appear in court. So when we see ICE arresting immigrants at court hearings and scaring others from appearing out of fear of arrest, suddenly the intent behind these actions becomes clear.
In this system, any action or inaction becomes punishable—including the “crime” of being an immigrant. Notably, this “moral character” clause has existed since the Naturalization Act of 1790—a reminder that these pursuits are not a recent political development but built into our founding documents.
Now, the Justice Department is expanding its criteria for denaturalization, using the definitions established by Congress centuries ago. A recent Justice Department memo orders those accused of involvement with terrorist, gang, or cartel groups to be targeted for deportation or even stripped of their citizenship, an indicator of their “immoral character.”
But the administration’s definition of “terrorism” and “criminal involvement” is both flawed and targeted. Kilmar Abrego Garcia, accused of being a member of MS-13, an international criminal gang, was wrongfully deported and imprisoned in El Salvador without due process—a move that was actually illegal, given that a court order barred his deportation to El Salvador on account of the gang threats and violence he faced there.
In another example, Rümeysa Öztürk, a PhD student at Tufts, cowrote an op-ed criticizing the university’s response to resolutions passed by its student body about Israel’s violations of international law. She was subsequently kidnapped and detained in an ICE prison for months.
These are simply two instances of a series of repeated offenses committed by the US government. In an effort to apprehend and throw out immigrants en masse, the state criminalizes individuals for free speech and seeking asylum.
Elsewhere, the right to vote is denied to citizens the US deems unworthy of representation. Essential rights and civil liberties are being stripped from legal residents, mitigating access to the freedoms that have defined America for centuries. More and more individuals are sorted into different tiers of citizenship, soon leaving few with the guarantee of liberty and justice promised to all.
For all its extremism and cruelty, the Trump administration is simply using the tools already available to them. Citizenship requirements contain too many loopholes that are easily exploited. So for progressives, opposing restrictive immigration policies is not enough. We must move beyond an idea of “citizenship” that only guarantees rights according to an individual’s status and reimagine a world that respects the freedom and equality of all people no matter their status.
If “morality” is a requirement for entry, then anything can be redefined as “immoral.” Economic metrics of inclusion fail for the same reason. Nations should not prioritize people solely based on what they can provide to employers. The argument that “immigrants help our economy” only emphasizes the need for individuals with economic value.
America’s immigration system must honor human rights for everyone, especially those at the margins. Those seeking asylum, refuge, education, or simply a better life should not be denied access to civil liberties and fundamental freedoms.
Aren’t these the true American values?