Why African Americans must recognize the political weaponization of citizenship before it's too late
Opinion | The Haitian Pulse | July 2, 2025
When Immigration Isn’t Just About Immigrants
When Donald Trump stepped onto the political stage, immigration quickly became his central rallying cry—punctuated by calls for walls, travel bans, and mass deportations. At first, it appeared to be a focused campaign against undocumented individuals with a criminal background, framed as a matter of national security. Many Americans, including segments of the Black population, viewed it as someone else’s issue. But what began as a crackdown on undocumented migrants soon evolved into a broader assault on legal residents and naturalized citizens. Today, as these policies expand, the warning signs are clear: communities that once felt distant from these battles may soon find themselves in the crosshairs.
“Citizenship is no longer treated as a right, but as a privilege to be revoked at will. That should terrify every marginalized American.”
A Pattern of Escalation
This progression is not incidental—it is strategic. It follows a familiar authoritarian rhythm:
“Undocumented immigrants were the first targets. Then all undocumented people, then legal permanent residents. Now, it’s naturalized citizens. The pattern is clear.”
The Department of Justice has established a Denaturalization Section—a division tasked with revoking citizenship from naturalized Americans. This evolution shows a chilling willingness to strip away the protections of citizenship itself, setting a precedent that citizenship is conditional, revocable, and politically weaponized.
And now, there’s an even more disturbing layer: the concept of “third country deportation.” Migrants are being sent not to their country of origin, but to any place that a political deal allows. This sets a dangerous precedent: if governments can remove people to countries they have no ties to, what stops that logic from being applied to others considered “undesirable”?
“Third country deportation doesn’t just erase borders—it erases belonging. It tells people they have no place anywhere.”
Imagine that logic extended. If naturalized citizens can have their status revoked, what prevents future policies from targeting birthright citizens—those who were born in the U.S. but whose parents are immigrants—by questioning the legitimacy of their citizenship? The 14th Amendment guarantees birthright citizenship, but recent political rhetoric has challenged its authority, floating the idea that it could be restricted by executive order or reinterpreted through legislation. If that door opens, entire generations of Americans could suddenly find their citizenship in doubt. What prevents future policies from targeting If a government begins treating certain citizens as liabilities rather than full participants in the democratic contract, exile becomes a terrifyingly real possibility.
“Today it’s the immigrant. Tomorrow it’s the ex-felon. The day after, the dissenter. Denaturalization is the tip of a dangerous iceberg.”
This isn’t about fearmongering—it’s about connecting the dots. Criminalization has long been used as a gateway to strip people of rights. If citizenship can be reduced to a privilege that can be rescinded, it opens the door for deeply racialized policies that push African Americans out—legally, socially, or even physically.
The Illusion of Distance
For too long, many in the African American community have believed this fight was not theirs. The issues of immigration, legal status, or denaturalization seemed distant. But this is a dangerous illusion. The very mechanisms used to exclude immigrants—criminalization, surveillance, dehumanization—have long been used against African Americans.
“If African Americans think they are immune to citizenship rollback, they’ve forgotten how easily rights are stripped in this country.”
“If a government can revoke citizenship from those who legally obtained it, what stops them from weaponizing incarceration or voting laws to erode the rights of Black citizens?”
What stops them from using the same nationalistic rhetoric to frame Black activists, organizations, or movements as threats to the state?
Divide and Conquer: The Oldest Strategy
Throughout history, power has maintained itself through division. Slavery divided Africans by tribe. Jim Crow divided by class. The war on drugs divided by neighborhood. And now, immigration policy divides by nationality. The aim is always the same: fragment solidarity so no group can build the collective power needed to resist.
“Authoritarianism thrives on fracture. Every divided movement is a win for those who want control.”
“Division isn’t just a side effect—it’s the design.”
That’s why this moment is pivotal. If African Americans remain silent while immigrants are criminalized, detained, and stripped of citizenship, they reinforce a structure that—sooner or later—will turn its weight against them, too.
A Call for Unity and Action
The future of the future of African American freedom is tied to the fate of immigrant communities. Both groups are:
“Targets of systemic criminalization and exclusion. Portrayed as threats to the 'real' America. Strategically disempowered.”
We must act now—before the machinery grows stronger and the resistance grows weaker. Our call must be clear:
Reject all forms of denaturalization and exclusionary citizenship practices. Stand in solidarity with immigrant communities—especially those from Africa, the Caribbean, Latin America, and Asia. Challenge the growing normalization of revoking rights as a tool of political control. Build coalitions that see our struggles as interconnected.
“Solidarity is no longer a gesture—it’s a survival strategy.”
What’s at Stake
This is no longer just about immigration. It’s about the very fabric of American democracy. If citizenship is no longer a guarantee of belonging or protection, then no one is safe—especially not those who have historically been viewed as expendable by the system.
“They came for the immigrants. If we wait our turn, there may be no one left to stand for us.”
African Americans must wake up to the broader game at play. We must remember the lessons of our own history: silence does not protect us, and waiting our turn only ensures that we will face the music alone.
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