Born Here, Still Foreign: The Politics of Conditional Belonging

A young man with a backpack looks across a historic European square at sunset, reflecting the tension between citizenship, identity and conditional belonging.

Citizenship can establish that a person belongs to a country without ending the demand that they prove it. When ancestry, race or religion becomes the measure of national authenticity, equal membership gives way to a political hierarchy that no amount of participation can reliably overcome.

Being born in a country does not always end the argument about whether it is yours. A citizen can grow up speaking its language, attend its schools, vote in its elections and still encounter the suggestion that their real home lies elsewhere. The supposed destination may be a country they have never visited. What makes it theirs, in this account, is an ancestor.

Conditional belonging begins when citizenship settles a person’s legal status but leaves their standing in the political community open to challenge. Some citizens are allowed to disagree with their country as members of it. Others discover that disagreement can be taken as evidence that they never properly belonged.

Exclusionary nationalism draws strength from this distinction. It promises to restore the nation to its rightful owners, then claims the authority to identify them. The dividing line may follow descent, skin colour, religion or a selective account of national culture. Citizens placed on the wrong side can participate in public life without acquiring an equal right to define it.

The histories behind these divisions differ. European labour recruitment, American racial politics and religious nationalism in India cannot be folded into one story about immigration. Yet each can expose a similar political operation: a characteristic inherited or assigned to a person becomes grounds for treating their membership as less complete than someone else’s.

The consequences need not begin with a change in citizenship law. They can begin with a question about loyalty, a demand for gratitude or an instruction to go home. A legal equal is made to answer to someone who assumes the position of host.

The Foreigner Who Never Arrived

Migration, birthplace, citizenship and ancestry describe different things. Someone born abroad can become a citizen; someone born inside a country may lack its nationality because the law does not grant citizenship automatically at birth. A locally born citizen with foreign-born parents differs again from both. Political arguments become misleading when these distinctions disappear into a population imagined as being from elsewhere.

Belgium offers one illustration of how the journey can outlive the traveller. In 1964, its government signed labour recruitment agreements with Morocco and Turkey. As the Belgian foreign ministry recounts in its 2024 article, “Sixty years of migration agreements with Türkiye and Morocco,” workers helped meet demand in coal mining, textiles and metalworking. Their arrival belonged to an economic programme pursued by the receiving state.

For descendants born and raised in Belgium, the country their grandparents travelled to is the place their own lives began. Yet the language of successive immigrant generations can preserve the original journey as a continuing qualification. Used carefully, these categories help researchers examine inherited inequalities. Used to distinguish authentic nationals from permanent newcomers, they turn an event in one person’s life into someone else’s unfinished condition.

A government can open a recruitment programme, revise it and close it. Families develop through births, education, relationships and attachments that do not expire when the programme ends. The workplace that first brought a family into a country may disappear while the family’s connection to that country deepens.

This history does not make equal citizenship a reward for ancestral service. A citizen whose grandfather worked underground has no stronger claim to equality than one whose parents arrived as refugees, students or spouses. Nor does someone whose family has lived in a territory for centuries need an immigration story to explain why they belong.

Asking about family history can express ordinary interest, and people often enjoy discussing it. The exclusion begins when a person’s answer about home is refused: the hometown is acknowledged, then set aside in pursuit of the supposedly more authentic country behind it. An inherited connection is treated as an inherited destination.

When a Birth Certificate Is Not Enough

The campaign questioning Barack Obama’s birthplace brought this hierarchy into American presidential politics. In April 2011, Hawaii’s Department of Health supplied certified copies of his original birth record. Its announcement confirmed that he had been born in Honolulu on 4 August 1961 and explained that the shorter certificate already released in 2008 was legally sufficient evidence of birth.

The significance lay partly in the demand for further proof after an ordinary legal document had already been provided. A fact established through the state’s own records had become a political controversy about whether the president was genuinely entitled to occupy his office. Documentation could answer the factual question; it could not, by itself, explain why the allegation had acquired such political force.

A related distinction appeared in 2019 when Donald Trump told Democratic congresswomen to go back to other countries. In its resolution condemning the comments, the House of Representatives explicitly addressed the treatment of Americans who were immigrants and those wrongly assumed to be immigrants. It also affirmed that naturalised citizens were as American as people whose families had lived in the country for generations.

The resolution was a political response, not a judicial determination. The underlying question nevertheless survives the particular confrontation: why should criticism of government suggest departure for some citizens while remaining an ordinary exercise of citizenship for others?

An instruction to go back performs more than an insult. It assigns the speaker the authority to locate another person’s proper home. The citizen being addressed may hold elected office and represent constituents, yet their presence is treated as something that can be withdrawn from the national story.

Public achievement offers no reliable escape from that arrangement. If acceptance rests on another person’s willingness to grant it, even the highest office can leave the argument about belonging available for political use.

When the Nation Is Given a Religion

Ancestral suspicion does not require a recent migration history. A religious minority can have deep roots in a country and still encounter the claim that the nation belongs more fully to the majority faith. The proposed hierarchy concerns ownership of the political community rather than the date of anyone’s arrival.

Pew Research Center’s 2021 report, Religion in India: Tolerance and Segregation, drew on interviews with almost 30,000 adults conducted in 2019 and 2020. It found that 64 per cent of Hindu respondents considered being Hindu very important to being truly Indian. The report also documented substantial regional differences and widespread support for religious tolerance.

Those findings describe neither a unanimous Hindu position nor a legal test of Indian citizenship. They reveal that support for tolerance can coexist with a narrower understanding of national authenticity. A minority may be accepted as entitled to practise its religion while still being regarded as less representative of the nation.

The report also found an association between this understanding of national identity and support for the Hindu nationalist Bharatiya Janata Party. That relationship does not establish that every BJP voter shares the same motives, or that one survey explains Indian politics. It does show how a distinction about who is truly national can connect with electoral power.

Tolerance is an inadequate substitute for equality when it leaves one group entitled to define the country and another dependent on permission to inhabit it. Religious freedom matters, but so does the authority to participate in deciding what the nation means.

The comparison with immigrant descendants therefore has limits as well as value. The histories are different, and the word immigrant may be entirely inappropriate. What can recur is the relegation of fellow citizens to a position in which their presence is acknowledged while their equal claim to the country remains contested.

Conditional Belonging and the Endless Integration Test

Integration has legitimate and practical meanings. Learning a common language, gaining access to education and employment, understanding institutions and participating in public life can expand a person’s opportunities. Governments can assess whether schools provide adequate support, qualifications are recognised and barriers prevent residents from taking part in society.

The problem arises when these tasks conceal an objection they cannot resolve. A citizen may speak the language fluently, possess local qualifications and work alongside everyone else, yet encounter doubts grounded in a surname, appearance or family religion. The disputed characteristic is no longer a missing skill.

A meaningful requirement must allow the possibility of being satisfied. If language proficiency is the criterion, fluency should count; if respect for the law is the criterion, conduct should matter. When the requirement shifts from language to lifestyle, from lifestyle to presumed loyalties, and finally to descent, compliance loses its capacity to settle anything.

Research in the Netherlands illustrates how this uncertainty can be experienced. In their 2025 Identity study, “Multiple Cultural Identities and Sense of National Belonging Among Second- and Third-Generation Youth in the Netherlands,” Mehmet Day and his colleagues used interviews and focus groups involving 51 adolescents and young adults. They described identities negotiated across social settings and experiences of discrimination that could weaken national belonging. Their qualitative findings illuminate these processes rather than measuring their prevalence across a population.

A person may feel thoroughly at home while learning that others regard the attachment as questionable. The tension need not begin with uncertainty about where they belong. It can arise from discovering that an answer they consider settled remains subject to someone else’s approval.

A citizen who challenges discrimination may also be invoking the country’s principles with considerable seriousness. Reading the challenge automatically as ingratitude makes political participation itself evidence against belonging. The person is invited to become an active citizen, then criticised for exercising citizenship in a way that unsettles those accustomed to being heard.

The OECD and European Commission’s Indicators of Immigrant Integration 2023 records that perceived discrimination is often more widespread among locally born young people with foreign-born parents than among foreign-born adults. It identifies greater awareness of rights and discriminatory practices as a possible explanation, while also documenting improvements in education and employment.

Progress and dissatisfaction can coexist. Familiarity with a country can sharpen the comparison between its promises and its practices, rather than produce quieter acceptance of unequal treatment.

The Nation as an Inheritance

Arguments about authentic belonging often seek their authority in the depth of a family’s roots. Historical continuity need not be denied: some people can trace generations of ancestors to the same region, and these attachments can carry substantial personal meaning. The question is what political entitlement follows.

A long family history establishes a relationship with a place. It does not establish a superior grade of citizenship. The claim that one citizen’s ancestors arrived earlier than another’s may be historically accurate while remaining irrelevant to their equal standing in the present.

The difference between remembered and forgotten migration is nevertheless revealing. Recent family journeys are easier to identify, document and turn into public labels. Older movements may have receded into ordinary national history. The visibility of one family’s migration can then be presented as proof of lesser belonging, while another family’s lack of a remembered journey is treated as evidence of natural possession.

National culture raises more substantial questions than genealogical purity. Languages, institutions, historical memories and habits of cooperation give public life much of its meaning. People can reasonably wish to preserve them. But preservation involves decisions about education, commemoration, law and change, and citizens from minority backgrounds have an equal stake in those decisions.

They cannot participate as equals if their role is confined to adapting to a culture that others alone are entitled to define. A national tradition becomes an instrument of hierarchy when some citizens may interpret and develop it while others must merely demonstrate compliance.

This argument leaves room for the ordinary legal role of descent in transmitting nationality. A state may use parentage to determine eligibility for citizenship without claiming that existing citizens possess different degrees of national authenticity. The rupture occurs when ancestry diminishes the standing of someone whose citizenship is already established.

When Border Policy Becomes Ancestry Politics

Decisions about future immigration do not settle the status of people already within the political community. Admissions levels, asylum administration and residence conditions can be debated on their merits. Citizens with migrant parents are entitled to disagree about them, and their family histories do not prescribe their positions.

The boundary is crossed when a discussion about entry becomes a discussion about the legitimacy of an existing population’s presence. Reducing arrivals and reducing an ancestry-defined group are different political objectives. Combining them places people inside a migration problem regardless of whether they have migrated.

Geert Wilders’s 2014 call for “fewer Moroccans” illustrates that distinction. In 2021, the Netherlands’ Supreme Court upheld his conviction for group insult. The Court of Appeal had acquitted him of incitement to hatred or discrimination, which was a separate question. The finding upheld by the Supreme Court concerned language deliberately directed at the group as a whole.

An origin-defined category can gather together people with different birthplaces, citizenship histories, conduct and opinions. What joins them is the identity assigned to them. This gives ancestry an organising power that an ordinary debate about future admissions does not possess.

Precision matters when naming the hierarchy. A claim that citizens are inherently less entitled to national belonging because of skin colour or descent is racist. Calling it cultural concern does not alter the criterion being applied. Equally, criticism of a religion, opposition to an immigration policy or a demand that everyone obey the same law does not establish such a hierarchy by itself.

Freedom of expression does not settle whether an argument is defensible. Public debate includes the freedom to examine whose conduct a claim generalises, how it distributes membership and what evidence could change its conclusion.

How Suspicion Becomes Common Sense

Exclusion does not require every allegation about a minority to be fabricated. It can develop through the selection and arrangement of real events. A crime, a school dispute or an offensive statement is detached from its circumstances and made representative of a population.

The comparison is with the treatment of everyone else. When misconduct by a majority member is understood as an individual offence, while comparable misconduct by someone from a minority becomes evidence about a community’s place in the country, the standards of explanation diverge. One person has done something wrong; the other is taken to reveal what their people are like.

In their 2018 review, “The European Media Discourse on Immigration and its Effects: A Literature Review,” published in the Annals of the International Communication Association, Jakob-Moritz Eberl and his colleagues identified recurring negative and conflict-centred representations. They also found evidence that framing can affect attitudes, while emphasising differences between countries and outlets and uncertainty about the persistence of experimentally observed effects.

That European evidence cannot establish how every media system works. Nor are repeated exposure, large audiences and changed convictions interchangeable findings. A widely circulated clip demonstrates circulation; establishing persuasion requires additional evidence.

The exclusionary argument itself can nevertheless be examined. Repetition keeps a group available as an explanation for unrelated difficulties, while selected incidents provide apparent confirmation. Ordinary participation attracts less attention than a conspicuous failure presented as a revelation about who can belong.

A particularly durable version absorbs its own counterexamples. Professional success becomes evidence of an exceptional individual; disadvantage confirms the group’s supposed failure to integrate. Criticism demonstrates disloyalty, while silence leaves the original suspicion untouched. When contradictory outcomes support the same conclusion, ancestry has begun to replace inquiry.

The Cost of Having to Prove It

The consequences extend beyond unpleasant conversation. Assumptions about belonging can enter decisions about who receives an interview, whose explanation is believed and whose presence requires additional scrutiny. Equal status in law can coexist with unequal access to the institutions through which people build their lives.

Hiring experiments help distinguish discrimination from explanations based solely on different qualifications. In their 2019 Sociological Science study, “Do Some Countries Discriminate More than Others? Evidence from 97 Field Experiments of Racial Discrimination in Hiring,” Lincoln Quillian and his colleagues analysed research involving more than 200,000 applications in nine European and North American countries. Applicants designed to be equivalent in relevant qualifications received different responses according to signals of racial or ethnic background.

The study found discrimination across the countries examined, with important differences between them. It does not explain every employment gap or disclose every employer’s reasoning. It establishes that telling disadvantaged applicants simply to acquire more credentials leaves part of the mechanism untouched.

The European Union Agency for Fundamental Rights’ 2024 report, Being Muslim in the EU, supplies another perspective. Drawing on a 2022 survey in 13 EU countries, it reported that 55 per cent of second-generation Muslim respondents who had looked for work described racial discrimination during that search in the preceding five years, compared with 32 per cent of Muslim immigrants.

These figures concern the surveyed groups, not every Muslim in Europe. They do not prove that local birth causes more discrimination, and reported experience is affected by exposure and recognition as well as treatment. They do challenge the expectation that exclusion necessarily fades as the migration event becomes more distant.

Institutions can compound the problem through the explanations they offer. Where an employer discounts a familiar education because of an unfamiliar name, describing the outcome as an integration failure places responsibility on the person whose participation has been obstructed.

Permanent suspicion also imposes a burden of representation. A citizen can be required to explain a stranger’s offence, condemn a foreign government or demonstrate distance from an organisation with which they have no connection. An ordinary disagreement becomes a preliminary hearing about their right to participate in it.

People respond differently: through public action, withdrawal, changes in self-presentation or deeper investment in particular relationships. Strong attachment to a country can survive these experiences. Neither successful participation nor retreat, considered alone, tells us whether someone has been treated fairly.

A Citizen’s Right to Shape the Country

A democratic answer cannot consist only of more generous praise for minority citizens. Celebrating exceptional achievement leaves the hierarchy intact if acceptance still depends on distinction or reassuring behaviour. Most citizens are ordinary people. Equality must be robust enough to include an unremarkable life.

Nor does equal membership confer immunity from criticism. Citizens disagree, behave badly, break laws and advance objectionable ideas. Accountability becomes more precise when people answer for their conduct without their failures becoming a verdict on unrelated people who share an origin or religion.

Public policy has a role beyond declarations of tolerance. Recruitment practices can be scrutinised, discriminatory decisions challenged and schools equipped to teach national histories in which minority families appear as participants. Political leaders can address crime, religious disputes and social conflict precisely enough to identify responsible actors rather than implicate whole populations.

The deeper question concerns authority over the country’s future. A citizen recognised only as a welcome addition remains dependent on someone else’s hospitality. Equal standing includes the ability to influence the country’s priorities, institutions, public memories and understanding of itself.

This claim applies to naturalised citizens as well as those born locally. Birthplace can expose the absurdity of being told to go back, but it should not become another ranking system. Equality cannot depend on replacing one ancestry test with a contest over who has the strongest certificate of attachment.

A country may change its immigration rules, defend shared institutions and argue fiercely about cultural change. What it cannot reconcile with equal citizenship is a permanent division between those who possess the nation and those whose membership they supervise.

For someone who has already built a life there, recognition need not create a new belonging. It may require public life to catch up with a life already lived—and relinquish the authority to keep that life on probation.

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