Who or what is a true American?
For the past several years, the phrase “True American” and “Real American” has been passed around, inferring this idea that there is a singular test as to define who is a true patriot of this country. Yet, the answer of who can pass that test is far from definitive.
When surveyed, the overwhelming majority of U.S residents say it’s about broad values like “treating people equally” (90%), accepting those of different racial background (81%), and religious freedom and tolerance (78%). But the loudest and most passionate cries came from a smaller minority - about 25% - that say a real American is someone who is born in this country and is a Christian. In their view, immigrants, including those who jump through the many hurdles of becoming a citizen, and non-Christians will never meet that criteria, no matter how loyally patriotic.
About half of self-identified “strong Republicans” and about a quarter of “strong Democrats” hold this nativist sentiment. Of course, these ideas aren’t new - conceptions of who an American is has shifted with policy and cultural acceptance for hundreds of years: in 1857 Chief Justice Roger Taney wrote in Dred Scott that African-Americans were not “acknowledged as part of the people;” Native Americans weren’t given full citizenship and voting rights until 1948 - almost 80 years after birthright citizenship was established; the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 banned Chinese immigrants from becoming citizens. For most of our history, female immigrants could not become citizens apart from their husband. Of course, those who espouse nativist/white nationalist views would be quick to point out the difference between a “citizen” and a “true American.”
That’s where the real problem is.
The debate around being a “real American” has nothing to do with being a citizen, extensive knowledge of U.S history, or loyalty to the Constitution and flag. It has more to do with belonging - and whether or not nativists want that person to be a fully engaged member of society. Religion and birth has nothing to do with it.
After all, the United States was primarily founded by immigrants and non-Christians. Thomas Paine famously declared “I do not believe in…any church;” President Jefferson denied that Jesus was “a member of the Godhead;” Benjamin Franklin criticized the church for making “orthodoxy more regarded than virtue.” Even the loyal church-going John Adams wrote “the United States is not, in any sense, a Christian nation.” The Declaration of Independence, the Articles of Confederation, and the United States Constitution, all avoid mentions of Christ and Christianity. In fact, Article VI of the Constitution says “no religious test shall ever be required as a qualification to any office or public trust under the United States.” The idea of America being a Christian nation didn’t arise until years later, when politics and religion were fused together as a pathway for power.
Power, both codified in our policies and systems as well as in cultural norms is what people are really seeking. If certain groups feel that their power or influence is waning, a purity test is their feeble attempt at redefining who is in and who is out. From the Spanish Inquisition to McCarthyism, the internment of the Japanese to white supremacist rallies, the underlying value is the same: it’s about loyalty to a group aspiring to seize power, not to a country or its ideas. It doesn’t matter what the majority of people think or what its sacred documents say about the issue, it is about redefining belonging.
The irony is that it is at once the most un-American idea (in terms of declared, founding values) and possibly one of the most consistently American practices possible (in terms of history and racial bigotry). In reality, there’s nothing true nor American about being a “true American” at all. It is simply an idea - and idea that adapts to fit one’s convenience, otherize its enemies, and inflates ideas of self-righteousness. Ideas don’t bleed or feel pain, but the people who they harm do.
