Birthright citizenship has long been a point of contention in the United States. Rooted in the 14th Amendment, ratified in 1868, it promises that “all persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States.” While initially crafted to secure the citizenship of freed slaves after the Civil War, its modern application has taken a far different path, granting automatic citizenship to children of illegal immigrants and temporary visitors. This broad interpretation has sparked debates about whether it aligns with the amendment's original intent and whether it serves America's best interests.

On January 20, 2025, President Donald Trump signed an executive order redefining birthright citizenship. The order excludes children born in the U.S. to individuals without legal status or on temporary visas, arguing this interpretation is consistent with the Constitution. Critics and supporters alike recognize the profound implications of this move, but its core purpose—defending American sovereignty and ensuring the integrity of citizenship—aligns with the principles of the right.

The 14th Amendment was drafted during the Reconstruction Era as a direct response to the infamous Dred Scott v. Sandford decision of 1857. That ruling declared African Americans, whether enslaved or free, could never be U.S. citizens, exacerbating the nation’s divisions and solidifying the inferior legal status of millions. With the Civil War's conclusion and the abolition of slavery via the 13th Amendment, lawmakers sought to ensure that freed slaves and their descendants could claim full citizenship and legal protections.

The 14th Amendment’s Citizenship Clause, stating that “all persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States,” was revolutionary in its time. Its primary intent was to erase any ambiguity over the citizenship status of freed slaves, making them full members of the nation with equal protection under the law.

However, the language of the clause was carefully constructed to include important qualifications. The phrase “subject to the jurisdiction thereof” was not merely a rhetorical flourish; it held specific legal meaning. Senator Lyman Trumbull, one of the amendment’s authors, explicitly stated that this phrase meant “not owing allegiance to anybody else.” This exclusion was meant to prevent automatic citizenship for individuals whose primary allegiance was to a foreign government or power.

For example, children born to foreign diplomats residing in the U.S. were understood to be outside the amendment’s scope because their parents owed allegiance to another nation. Similarly, the amendment did not apply to members of Native American tribes, who were considered under the jurisdiction of their own sovereign nations at the time. It was not until the Indian Citizenship Act of 1924 that all Native Americans were granted U.S. citizenship.

Critics of modern birthright citizenship argue that extending it to children of unauthorized immigrants or individuals on temporary visas misinterprets the historical intent of the amendment. The framers could not have anticipated the vast waves of global migration, the rise of dual citizenship, or the concept of “birth tourism.” They crafted the clause in the context of a post-Civil War society, seeking to address the specific injustices faced by freed slaves, not to create a universal guarantee of citizenship for anyone born on U.S. soil regardless of parental status.

This distinction gains further clarity when considering the broader legal and cultural environment of the time. The U.S. was still grappling with what it meant to be a nation unified by shared values, traditions, and laws. Citizenship was viewed as a privilege that carried obligations, including undivided allegiance to the United States. Extending citizenship to individuals who did not meet these criteria, particularly those whose ties to the nation were transient or involuntary, would have been anathema to the framers’ intent.

The 14th Amendment’s framers sought to build a cohesive nation out of the ashes of the Civil War, one bound by loyalty to its Constitution and principles. Allowing automatic citizenship to those with no enduring ties to the country undermines this vision, critics contend, eroding the unity and sovereignty that citizenship is meant to uphold. Thus, the modern application of the 14th Amendment to grant birthright citizenship to children of illegal immigrants is seen by many as a distortion of its original purpose—a misstep that demands correction.

President Trump’s executive order reasserts the importance of jurisdiction and allegiance in determining citizenship. By excluding children of those here illegally or temporarily, the policy aims to prioritize the interests of American citizens and preserve the integrity of the nation's identity.

Supporters view this as a necessary correction to a misapplication of the 14th Amendment. They argue that automatic birthright citizenship incentivizes illegal immigration, fosters “anchor baby” scenarios, and creates systemic inequities. They also point to global precedents: most developed nations, including France, Germany, and Japan, do not grant automatic citizenship based solely on birthplace.

Critics, however, label the executive order as overreach, claiming it conflicts with established legal interpretations, such as the 1898 Supreme Court case United States v. Wong Kim Ark, which affirmed citizenship for children of lawful permanent residents born in the U.S. While the case did not address children of illegal immigrants, its broad language has been cited to justify the status quo.

A nation’s identity relies on more than just geographic boundaries. It is built on shared culture, language, history, and values. America’s identity was forged by a specific stock of people—primarily English, Irish, German, and Italian immigrants—who shared Western traditions and gradually assimilated into a cohesive national culture. The notion of “melting pot” worked because these groups integrated, adopting common manners, traditions, and allegiance to the American experiment.

Today, the idea of assimilation is under siege. The left promotes multiculturalism at the expense of national unity, while globalist conservatives—dubbed “Tech Bros”—view America as an economic entity rather than a sovereign nation. To these individuals, the country’s purpose is reduced to GDP growth, with little regard for the cultural and historical ties that bind its people.

Automatic birthright citizenship exacerbates this problem, enabling individuals with no connection to America’s cultural or political foundations to claim the same rights as those with deep, generational roots. As a result, the sense of shared identity weakens, undermining the cohesion necessary for a thriving nation.

Birthright citizenship is not just a legal issue; it has profound economic and cultural ramifications. Supporters of Trump’s policy argue that automatic citizenship creates a magnet for illegal immigration, placing a strain on public resources like healthcare, education, and social services. The economic burden is borne by taxpayers, who must subsidize services for those with no legal claim to the nation.

Culturally, unchecked birthright citizenship dilutes the shared values that define American society. Citizenship should signify more than mere location at birth—it should reflect a commitment to the nation’s principles and a willingness to contribute to its success. By allowing individuals with transient or illegal ties to claim citizenship, the current system devalues this bond, turning it into a mere administrative formality.

Trump’s executive order is a bold step toward reclaiming the true intent of the 14th Amendment and restoring sovereignty to American citizenship. However, its success depends on overcoming significant legal and political hurdles. Critics will challenge its constitutionality, arguing that only Congress or the Supreme Court can redefine birthright citizenship.

Yet, this debate is about more than legalities—it is about the future of America. Is citizenship merely a birthright, or is it a privilege tied to shared allegiance and responsibility? As the nation grapples with this question, conservatives must champion policies that prioritize the interests of American citizens and preserve the cultural and historical identity that makes America unique.

The path forward will not be easy, but it is essential. Reinterpreting birthright citizenship is not just a legal necessity—it is a moral imperative to ensure that America remains a sovereign nation, bound by common values and dedicated to its people.