What makes a citizen: blood or soil?
Crucifixes rattled as the schoolgirls ran the halls, ignoring their nuns’ stares. Spots on study-abroad trips were filling quickly, and Bellamy had her sights on a summer in London. Strolling Oxford Street, eyeing the dresses on display. A self-described “classic Italian,” she was enamored with “clothing… makeup… and being put together.” She grabbed an application and raced home, giddy. When the form asked for her citizenship status, she asked her father. Legally, she was not Italian.
“Oh, my nationality is technically Ugandan,” Bellamy muttered. Ugandan citizenship meant no access to the European Union’s Schengen zone, meaning no London trip. Shame gnawed. “Even though I was born and raised here, I can’t do the same thing that my friends do.”
Bellamy is not alone. Many native-born Italians lack citizenship in their nation of birth, since their parents lacked the “right” blood. Jus sanguinis, right of blood, governs Italian citizenship law. Italian citizenship requires ancestry, without regard to upbringing, social ties, and cultural identity. Opera sopranos, grade-school teachers, bakers, and doctors all better Italy while Italian law others them. It is an impoverished view of citizenship, and a needless indignity for too many.
Many native-born Italians lack citizenship in their nation of birth, since their parents lacked the “right” blood.
Rooting Italian-ness in blood excludes neighbors who may look different, causing some to treat them as different. Others speak of White-Italians over-enunciating when speaking with Black-Italians, assuming poor command of the language. “Do, you, understand,” with drawn-out vowels and lengthy pauses. “How do you assume that I am not Italian,” the man felt.
Moreover, non-citizens must endure an onerous citizenship-application process, which is only available between their eighteenth and nineteenth birthday. Immigration authorities require extensive records of residency, finances, and criminality. A single misstep risks derailing the process, necessitating professional legal help to guide one through the thicket. For those in short supply of both time and means, such a process is inaccessible.
Rooting Italian-ness in blood excludes neighbors who may look different, causing some to treat them as different.
Regrettably, xenophobic attitudes have bled into other aspects of Italian public policy. Swings in asylum policy left 37,000 undocumented for two years, despite risks of “inhuman” treatment in their place-of-origin. For migrants crossing the Mediterranean in overcrowded, dangerous rafts, Italian law criminalizes humanitarian vessels which come to their aid.
Yet there are alternatives to Jus sanguinis. In the United States, those born on American soil are Americans. Indeed, the Fourteenth Amendment to the Constitution assures it. Jus Soli, right of the soil, extends the dignity inherent in citizenship to more country-people. However, intolerance is mobilizing against this right. “It’s ridiculous,” former-President Trump said of birthright citizenship, as his administration fought to limit the amendment’s scope in the courts. America should inspire the spread of Jus Soli, not succumb to the nativism immiserating Italians. Justice demands it.
