Politics

It starts with a quiz from a law firm: did your grandparents leave before or after 1951? Do you have their passports or marriage certificate?

If I answer correctly, I will get another email from a lawyer who specializes in citizenship claims. If I do not, my file may be quietly marked as a long shot. The stakes are high: if successful, I could ultimately obtain an EU citizenship for myself and then perhaps for other members of my family.

Like many other Americans, I began this process in a moment of disillusionment. Since the 2024 election, I have been living with what I have come to call “citizenship insecurity”, a new category of instability that millions of us are now grappling with. It is the unsettling sense that a US passport, once a symbol of safety and mobility, is no longer something we identify with.

I am not living in fear of Ice raids; I am privileged enough to be a US citizen. I am not applying for another passport out of immediate danger or fear. Instead, it is about estrangement: I no longer recognize my country’s values.

Since the US’s inception, Americans have told ourselves a story about who we are and what we represent. We knew we were not perfect, but we thought America at least pretended to try to stand up for democracy and human rights. Much of that story has been tossed aside in the last decade, along with the dismantlement of our social contracts. “Citizenship insecurity” captures the depth of that unraveling, not necessarily imminent danger but no longer recognizing America, or trusting its values.

Cool, so it's not just me.