The nuanced arguments of America’s smartest immigration restrictionists

Worth noting this more nuanced critique, both of the book as well as the review. More from an assimilationist rather than the more nuanced integration approach that allows for more varied identities within the context of national laws.

Will be interesting to see how this debate plays out among thoughtful conservative circles:

What does it mean to be an American? Who should get that privilege, and what benefits should it entail?

Reihan Salam, executive editor of National Review, confronts these questions in his new and provocative book, Melting Pot or Civil War: A Son of Immigrants Makes the Case Against Open Borders. It’s a must-read for anyone with an interest in immigration policy, as a book that combines significant policy expertise with a clear and cogent argument. Even if (like me) you are ultimately skeptical of Salam’s approach, this book is well worth engaging.

As a conservative who favors a tighter immigration policy, Salam is superficially in sync with President Trump. But this book isn’t Trumpian. Far from embracing a resentful ethno-nationalism, Salam seems motivated above all by a sincere concern that we haven’t done enough to help disadvantaged Americans succeed. Slowing immigration is just one of his recommended steps towards the creation of a new “middle-class melting pot,” in which all American children (including undocumented immigrants) can have a secure future.

A successful melting pot, as Salam sees it, is just like a good stew. It won’t come out well unless we pay proper attention to the ingredients. As a second-generation Bengali American, Salam understands how high levels of immigration can actually hinder recently naturalized citizens in their efforts to join the cultural mainstream. When overall levels of immigration are low, the immigrants we do have will be highly motivated to adapt and assimilate. First-generation immigrants may have varied levels of success here, but their children will integrate more fully, quite possibly without much resistance from the surrounding culture. Small numbers of newcomers are likely to be perceived as an interesting curiosity more than a threat, so most people won’t object to befriending, employing, or even marrying them.

As immigration levels rise, however, the story changes. Large-scale migration has a far more significant impact on the economy and surrounding culture. Not everyone will welcome the changes. As tensions rise, newcomers may find it more comfortable to stick to neighborhoods dominated by co-ethnics, who speak familiar languages and retain familiar customs. Unsurprisingly, the range of available opportunities within these subcultures tends to be small, and residents are normally poorer than the population at large. That might seem acceptable to first-generation immigrants, who still feel on balance that they have bettered their lives by immigrating. The next generation will be less sanguine though, and their frustration, juxtaposed against the rising resentment of the surrounding population, is a recipe for ethnic conflict.

To the cosmopolitan mind, this logic is thoroughly depressing. Is it fruitless even to try to encourage an ethos of tolerance? Is nativism simply imprinted onto the human soul?

Salam argues that people can be persuaded to tolerate differences, provided we don’t ask too much from them. In concert with most elite leftists, he wants to move toward a culture that’s highly educated, technologically advanced, and cosmopolitan in its embrace of a multi-ethnic population. But he thinks this will be achievable only if we manage immigration carefully, limiting our welcome to immigrants who seem well suited to rapid assimilation. In practice, that means saying “yes” to the educated and affluent, and “no” to the huddled masses.

I have argued before that citizenship has in our time become a kind of global caste system. In that context, Salam might be seen as a modern-day Lord Salisbury, prioritizing social stability and accepting that this can be preserved only in an exclusive society. It’s a strong argument, as even his detractors should acknowledge. If we want to secure certain goods for all American citizens (including decent health care, a quality education, and real inclusion in mainstream society), we’ll necessarily have to be choosy about who’s admitted to the club. Our resources aren’t infinite, and there’s a limit to how much diversity we can absorb while still maintaining a cohesive society.

Of course, caste systems have obvious moral shortcomings. Recognizing that, Salam includes a complete chapter on foreign aid, which he would like to increase as a kind of compensation for his less-generous immigration policy. This segment of the book is illuminating in many ways, and Salam has some interesting ideas. But he is noticeably loathe to acknowledge the limitations of foreign aid. Good intentions notwithstanding, America’s capacity to improve life across the globe is quite limited. That will become even more true if the Pax Americana continues to erode (which is not something Salam has in general been inclined to lament).

Two or three decades ago, things might have seemed different. At that time many people really believed that the planet could be moving toward an era of widespread peace, prosperity, and freedom. Today, that’s not looking like a strong bet. A sizable percentage of the world’s population lives under politically oppressive regimes, and that number seems if anything to be growing. If Western nations are unwilling to resettle refugees and migrants, the reality is that many will end up stuck in places where life is generally bad. Salam would prefer to see these unfortunates settled someplace else, so that we can focus our energies here on helping second- and third-generation immigrants, impoverished urban blacks, and the underemployed denizens of the Rust Belt. But of course, other developed nations are likewise struggling to persuade their citizens to be open to immigrants. Why should other societies be more generous, if we ourselves are willing to do almost nothing in this regard?

No matter what policy we adopt, Salam’s concerns about integration are surely worth considering. No one will benefit if we adopt a naively ideological immigration policy, without regard for the consequences. At the same time, his position is itself based in ideological commitments that some of us may question. In Salam’s mind, the quintessentially American society seems to be a kind of managed middle-class culture, in which carefully crafted government interventions help to keep class stratification in check. To me, that sounds more like a Scandinavian ideal, and I’m not sure how close we can get to it anyway. The United States is already a huge and wildly diverse nation, riven by deep religious and philosophical differences along with the ethnic and cultural ones. Technological advancement seems if anything to increase inequality further, none of which has much to do with immigration. We should still care about helping marginalized groups to flourish, insofar as we are able. But it might also be good to accept that Americans just don’t specialize in creating high-solidarity monocultures. Historically we’ve been better at negotiating a strained-but-usually-livable peace between more widely divergent groups, who are united at least in their commitment to building a life outside of the shadow of political oppression. Is this really the right moment to walk away from those commitments?

As the world becomes more and more interconnected, nationalists will increasingly struggle to justify the priority they want to place on citizenship as a moral category. This obviously represents a major shift in human perspective, which is worrisome; transformations of that magnitude have real potential to create instability. That is in itself an excellent reason to give due credit to nuanced anti-immigration arguments, such as Salam presents in this book. Over the longer run though, is an “America first” immigration policy sustainable? Will our children thank us for doubling down on a robustly egalitarian vision, which may just not fit the contours of our freedom-loving society? I’m inclined to doubt it. But read the book before you answer.

Source: The nuanced arguments of America’s smartest immigration restrictionists

Citizenship is the new caste system

While large written in the US and European contexts, her questions at the end are worth pondering:

Lord Salisbury, one of England’s great conservative leaders, was an unapologetic snob. Looking out over the European landscape in 1862, he saw that the aristocracy was collapsing, and this seemed to him like a catastrophe for all of civilization. How, he wondered, could common morals and high culture be maintained without the support of patricians? Who would govern when no one had been groomed for leadership? What chaos might ensue in a world where people had no clear sense of their proper roles and obligations? “Political equality is not merely a folly — it is a chimera,” he concluded. “It is idle to discuss whether it ought to exist; for, as a matter of fact, it never does.”

Americans read these complaints and scoff. We like to think we’ve transcended this kind elitism. Here in America, we prioritize content of character, not circumstances of birth. In this country, your fortunes depend on what you can do, not on some inherited pedigree.

That, at any rate, is our national myth. Unfortunately, it’s not really true, in this nation or any other. Democratic ideals may have swept the globe so totally that even totalitarians now pay lip-service to them, yet our world is in some respects more ruthlessly class-divided than ever. I’m not talking here about the 1 percent, or the 9.9 percent, or whatever percentage we see as inheriting systemic advantages from their well-heeled parents. I’m talking about citizenship.

Citizenship represents the most significant class lottery remaining in the modern world. The cover of your passport speaks volumes about your prospects for enjoying peace, prosperity, and happiness over the course of your life. If you are the offspring of Danes, you can likely look forward to eight peaceful and happy decades, with a good education and quality medical care. Were you born in Haiti? In that case, you may get 65 years, but you’ll probably spend them coping with grinding poverty (at about 1/30th the income of an average American). If you were born in North Korea, accept my compliments for even managing to read these words.

Citizenship, in short, is massively consequential, and there’s almost nothing meritorious about it. If you’ve spent your life as an American citizen, your fortunes have depended to a very great extent on an inherited pedigree. Even if you’re brilliant and full of entrepreneurial energy, those qualities probably wouldn’t have helped you as a citizen of Burundi or Niger. It’s hard to pull yourself up by the bootstraps when there’s virtually nowhere to go.

Western nations are developing a bad conscience about this system. Thanks to advances in technology, we now know what’s happening in Syria and Sudan, and our planet has become so interconnected that it now seems irresponsible to wash our hands of failed states (and their suffering citizens). Even as the globe contracts though, we’re losing confidence in our ability to improve terrible places. A quarter-century ago, there was still considerable optimism in the West about the potential for democracy and free enterprise to “lift all the boats,” inspiring impoverished nations to transform themselves into prosperous, free societies. In fact, free enterprise has done much to alleviate material need around the world, and even very poor countries have in some cases seen significant improvements in their standards of living. Corrupt government, though, has proved a harder nut to crack. Stability, prosperity, and political freedom seem to arise out of a complex mix of factors that, where absent, are difficult to replicate. The upshot is that truly miserable places may not improve anytime soon.

Where governments fail to secure order and protect human rights, who can blame their citizens for wanting to leave? Unfortunately, that may not really be an option for some people, thanks to the dominating role of citizenship in today’s world order. If you’re poor and lacking rarified skills, other countries probably don’t want you. The truly desperate or determined may try to migrate anyway, at which point Western nations are faced with a choice: How far are we willing to go to maintain these class lines?

This isn’t the first time we’ve stood at such a juncture. In the late 19th century, as class lines were being obliterated all across Europe, a number of aristocrats rose up to make spirited defenses of traditional class division. Lord Salisbury’s Disintegration and Tennyson’s Locksley Hall Sixty Years After stand as two of the more eloquent reflections on this topic. These men saw the collapse of aristocracy as a disaster, and Americans might be surprised to find that they actually make some rather strong points. Salisbury in particular was admirably free of any romantic notions about the intrinsic superiority of the nobly-born. He simply regarded class distinction as a necessary component of a civilized social order. Without defined social roles and a cultivated leisure class, society would fragment and culture would coarsen. Responsible leadership would be buried under the ruthless logic of the political machine. The future would be written by demagogues, skilled only in the art of stoking fears and channeling popular resentment.

Looking at modern society, can we really say that these fears were ill-founded? Do we not have problems today with social fragmentation, a debased civic culture, and hysterical populist politics? Among the European powers, Great Britain was perhaps the most successful in transitioning smoothly from an aristocratic order to a modern, democratic one. There were no major coups, uprisings, or experiments with totalitarianism. Despite that, it seems unlikely that men like Tennyson or Salisbury would withdraw their complaints, given a glimpse of 21st century England. They were right to see that the dissolution of the old social order would precipitate a host of new problems. They were also right to see that the transition was inevitable. A rigid class system simply can’t be maintained once common consensus has deemed it morally unacceptable.

Is the Western world reaching that point, with respect to immigration and citizenship? It’s not clear, but there are interesting signs that we may be moving in that direction. Opposition to migration has been the single most defining feature of right-wing populist movements, both in America and across Europe. At best though, these movements have commanded a very slight majority of public opinion, and their more stringent efforts to crack down on immigration have provoked serious backlash. Italian populists were excoriated this month for their refusal to accept a rescue vessel bearing hundreds of migrants. President Trump’s “zero-tolerance” immigration policies drew criticism even from evangelical leaders who have been his staunchest supporters. Permissive immigration policies and porous borders carry obvious social costs, but nevertheless, it appears that Westerners are becoming morally uncomfortable with rigid efforts to maintain a citizenship regime that looks increasingly like a global caste system.

What are the alternatives? In the coming years, that question will need to be explored in more detail. Would a lengthier and more involved naturalization process help us to balance the various conflicting goods? Might we end up with a situation reminiscent of Ancient Rome, wherein different “tiers” of citizens live together in common cities? Perhaps Western nations will explore new methods of cooperation, enabling them to present migrants with a range of livable options. (Even if you can’t live here, perhaps we can help you to move somewhere so that your family can have a clean start.)

Only one thing is certain: Immigration will be a source of heated controversy for many years to come. It forces us to confront old problems in a new guise. What benefits should parents be permitted to bequeath to their children? How can we preserve communities without being unjust to the people who stand outside of them? At what point does communal solidarity bleed into xenophobia, racism, and tribal hatred?

We’ve grappled with these questions before. It’s time to craft new answers.

Source: Citizenship is the new caste system