The History of Citizenship—Part II

Last week, I indulged in a little history lesson about citizenship and passports. You can read that here if you missed it.

And before I give you my thoughts on what citizenship could look like going forward… and how that affects expats and other global citizens… Let me fill in the rest of the history: How we got to the global citizenship laws and laws governing passports that we have today.

When the League of Nations adopted uniform standards for passports in 1920, most of the planet was still under colonial rule. Over the next 40 years, the number of sovereign nation-states exploded as decolonization swept the world.

This led to a profound change in nationality and citizenship.

At the end of World War II, millions around the world were British subjects, with nationality, travel rights, and passports to match. Citizens of South Africa, where I live, could move to Britain freely.

Decolonization changed all that. As colonies became independent, their citizens gained a new nationality, but lost rights associated with their former status. That led to stricter residency rules and adherence to passports as a marker of identity and the right to travel. Some of the sternest rules were adopted by countries that had once been unified, like Pakistan and India.

Passports became further standardized as aviation technology and economic integration led to a growth of international travel. By the 1980s, they had to be machine readable. In the 2000s they added biometric data. In the 21st century, the rise of global terrorism and money laundering has led to anti-counterfeiting protections such as the holograms commonly found in paper currency.

But there was a countervailing trend. During World War Two, the United States encouraged immigration from Mexico to do jobs vacated by soldiers and sailors abroad. After the war, many countries imported skilled labour from former colonies and other countries. Britain experienced the so-called “Windrush” in the 1950s, as residents of Caribbean nations flocked to the old imperial center for work. Germany allowed millions of Turks to settle as part of its Gastarbeiter (guest worker) program. Although these programs didn’t lead to citizenship immediately, they reflected a more nuanced understanding of nationality.

Rise of the Global Citizen

Similarly, the collapse of the Soviet Union led to the rise of ancestral citizenship programs as exiles began to return to countries like Hungary, Poland, and Czechoslovakia. In the early 1990s, the Maastricht Treaty created European Union citizenship, allowing free movement, residence, and work across EU countries. As population growth began to decline in Western Europe, countries dropped laws against dual citizenship and adopted ancestral citizenship rules to boost their populations.

By the early 2000s, the rise of an integrated global economy meant some people began to live and work abroad for years. Many became so deeply embedded in their new homes that they thought of themselves as global citizens. The concept of one citizenship for life, restricting a person to the opportunities available in their home country, began to break down.

Yet again, there was a countervailing tendency. The end of the Cold War led to democratization in places previously dominated by authoritarian governments supported by the US or the Soviet Union. Particularly in Africa and the Middle East, brief experiments in democracy descended into conflict and civil war, creating masses of refugees bound for Europe. Central American and northern South American nations began to experience similar disorder, sending refugees fleeing to the US.

This led to a populist backlash, particularly after the global financial crisis of 2008. Nativist politics began to sweep North America and Europe, rejecting mass immigration. The notion of countries as constitutional “melting pots” is increasingly rejected. The popular concept of citizenship more and more emphasizes ancestry, language, culture, and religion.

At the same time, however, opportunities for multiple residencies and citizenship for individuals of high net worth have expanded dramatically. As countries compete to bring in big money, a global industry now treats citizenship as a commodity to be bought and sold… but only for the very wealthy.

Only the Wealthy Live Free?

With one quarter of the 21st century gone, we’re on the verge of a situation not unlike that of the ancient city states of Greece.

As I explained last week, in places like Athens and Sparta citizenship required wealth and power. Natives who lacked these things were effectively “subjects” of quasi-democratic oligarchies.

The emergence of one set of rules for the wealthy and one for everyone else challenges our inherited notion of citizenship. In some Persian Gulf states, for example, there are more expats than natives. Many enjoy wealth and influence far exceeding those of local citizens. Gulf governments are becoming more responsive to their expat communities than to their own citizens.

Even in the United States, the Trump administration’s proposal for a “Gold Card” granting permanent residency with special taxation status for a $5 million donation reflects the idea that migration and nationality is flexible… but only for the rich.

Where is this heading? The intensifying popular notion of citizenship based on native heritage on the one hand and flexible citizenship options for the very wealthy on the other has created an unstable situation.

Portugal, for example, is a leading destination for Americans and others seeking a life abroad. Close to 20% of its residents are foreigners, many of whom spent hundreds of thousands of euros for the right to live there. But the recent Portuguese parliamentary election saw big gains for political parties dedicated to restricting such opportunities. The same thing happened in Italy, long one of the most welcoming countries in the world for people claiming ancestral citizenship.

Today’s politicians face incompatible pressures. Governments seeking to grow their economies and gain access to wealth, technology, and entrepreneurial skills are opening their borders and offering passports to people possessing these things. But the same governments face growing resentment from voters tired of seeing wealthy foreigners crowd them out of local neighborhoods and refugees taking unskilled jobs.

The history of citizenship and passports suggests three lessons.

First, there’s an inherent tension between the rights of citizenship and the power of wealth. That’s been the case since the days of Greece and Rome. The idea that citizenship can be purchased like a new car is simply incompatible with most people’s concept of citizenship and national belonging.

Second, the ebb and flow of geopolitics and sources of wealth and power means concepts of citizenship will always be in long-term flux. Despite the current fashion for nativism, it’s hard to imagine that the world’s countries will be as exclusive in a hundred years as they are today.

Third, it’s critical not to assume that the future will be like our experience of the past. Many of us formed our expectations about a life abroad during a time when this was easy to achieve. That’s changing right in front of us.

The takeaway? The only constant is change, in citizenship as in everything else.

So, if your plans include a second citizenship and passport, don’t wait.

And as always, I and International Living will continue to guide you on the most welcoming places, the best opportunities, and the best ways to live an international life today—even in a world changing before our eyes.