The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

This page intentionally left blank

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe In this book, Marc Morjé Howard addresses immigrant integration, one of the most critical challenges facing European countries today, the resolution of which will in large part depend on how foreigners can become citizens. Howard’s research shows that despite remarkable convergence in their economic, judicial, and social policies, the countries of the European Union still maintain very different definitions of citizenship. Based on an innovative measure of national citizenship policies, the book accounts for both historical variation and contemporary change. Howard’s historical explanation highlights the legacies of colonialism and early democratization, which unintentionally created relatively inclusive citizenship regimes. The contemporary analysis explores why some of the more restrictive countries have liberalized in recent decades, whereas others have not. Howard’s argument focuses on the politics of citizenship, showing in particular how anti-immigrant public opinion – when activated politically, usually by far right movements or public referenda – can block the liberalizing tendencies of political elites. Overall, the book shows the far-reaching implications of this growing and volatile issue. Marc Morjé Howard is an Associate Professor of Government at Georgetown University. He is the author of The Weakness of Civil Society in Post-Communist Europe (Cambridge, 2003), an award-winning book, and he has published numerous articles in a wide array of academic journals.

For my parents, Brigitte and Dick Howard

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

MARC MORJÉ HOWARD Georgetown University

CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS

Cambridge, New York, Melbourne, Madrid, Cape Town, Singapore, São Paulo, Delhi, Dubai, Tokyo Cambridge University Press The Edinburgh Building, Cambridge CB2 8RU, UK Published in the United States of America by Cambridge University Press, New York www.cambridge.org Information on this title: www.cambridge.org/9780521870771 © Marc Morjé Howard 2009 This publication is in copyright. Subject to statutory exception and to the provision of relevant collective licensing agreements, no reproduction of any part may take place without the written permission of Cambridge University Press. First published in print format 2009 ISBN-13

978-0-511-65195-3

eBook (NetLibrary)

ISBN-13

978-0-521-87077-1

Hardback

ISBN-13

978-0-521-69127-7

Paperback

Cambridge University Press has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of urls for external or third-party internet websites referred to in this publication, and does not guarantee that any content on such websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate. Portions of the research included in this book were published in “Comparative Citizenship: An Agenda for Cross-National Research,” Perspectives on Politics 4, no. 3 (2006): 443–455. With permission from Cambridge University Press. An earlier version of Chapter 6 was previously published as “The Causes and Consequences of Germany’s New Citizenship Law,” German Politics 17, no. 1 (2008): 41–62. With permission from Taylor & Francis.

Contents

List of Figures List of Tables Preface Introduction Part I: Argument 1 Citizenship in Cross-National Perspective: An Empirical Baseline in the EU-15 2 Historical Variation and Legacies: The Impact of Colonialism and Early Democratization 3 Continuity and Change in the Contemporary Period: The Impact of Public Mobilization

page vii viii ix 1

17 37 52

Part II: Cases 4 Liberalizing Change: Sweden, Finland, Luxembourg, the Netherlands, and Portugal 5 Restrictive Continuity: Austria, Denmark, Italy, Spain, and Greece 6 Partial Liberalization with a Restrictive Backlash: Germany 7 Citizenship Battles in the Historically Liberal Countries: France, Belgium, the United Kingdom, and Ireland 8 The New European Frontier: The Accession-12

148 169

Conclusion

193

73 94 119

v

Contents

vi

Appendix I Appendix II References Index

Detailed Breakdown of the Three CPI Components Naturalization Rates for the EU-15

207 217 219 235

Figures

1.1 1.2 1.3 2.1 2.2 3.1 3.2 3.3 3.4 3.5 3.6 6.1

Citizenship Policy Index, 1980s and today Comparing the CPI to Koopmans et al.’s measures Comparing the CPI in 2008 to MIPEX 2006 The relationship between country-level factors and historical CPI scores What explains different historical patterns of citizenship laws? Agreement with five anti-immigrant statements Average agreement rate with five anti-immigrant statements Perceived consequences of immigrants Latent pressures on national citizenship policies A two-part political model for explaining citizenship liberalization The relationship between country-level factors and CPI change Annual number of naturalizations of foreigners in Germany

page 29 34 35 48 50 56 56 58 60 61 66 143

vii

Tables

1.1 1.2 1.3 3.1 3.2 4.1 7.1 8.1 8.2

viii

The Three Main Components of Citizenship Policies for the EU-15 in the 1980s The Three Main Components of Citizenship Policies for the EU-15 in 2008 Country Groupings Based on Historical Traditions and Recent Changes Economic and Socio-Economic Factors in Eleven EU Countries Demographics in Eleven EU Countries The Electoral Strength of Far Right Parties in the Cases of Liberalizing Change Demographics in the Historically Liberal Countries Demographics in the Accession-12 The Three Main Components of Citizenship Policies for the Accession-12 in 2008

page 27 28 31 63 64 93 166 171 173

Preface

This book has an autobiographical back-story. It addresses a topic that has intrigued me since my earliest memories. As now happens with growing frequency, I am a product of parents from different countries. I acquired American citizenship from my father and French citizenship through my mother. In my childhood, I spent more time in the United States, but I regularly enjoyed long summers in Normandy with my French grandparents, as well as the occasional sabbatical year in Paris. Growing up, I had close friends and deep roots in both places that persisted despite the absences in between, and I genuinely felt at home in both countries. This occurred despite the torrent of questions I endured – “do you prefer French or English?” “Is it better here or there?” “Are you more American or more French?” – to which I have never quite known how to respond. The real answer, which still holds today, is that my experiences in both countries have shaped my identity, and I could not be one without the other. My own experience is far from unique. Millions of other children have been born into two citizenships, and many millions more – including my parents – have acquired a new citizenship later in life by becoming naturalized citizens of another country (though, as shown in this book, not all can keep their prior citizenship). As immigration flows intensify and as the world becomes a smaller, more fluid place, the issue of citizenship has become increasingly timely and relevant. Indeed, most of the advanced industrialized countries are facing an impending demographic crisis – due to low birth rates and an aging population – and the incorporation of immigrants into their working populations could be an important strategy for averting an eventual collapse of their national pension systems. At the same time, however, anti-immigrant xenophobia has increased significantly over the last two decades, thereby ix

x

Preface

placing contradictory pressures on political elites, who tend to be more responsive to the short-term demands of the electorate. The demographic problem, however, is a longer-term one, and one of the keys to understanding its eventual resolution will depend on how these countries define and enforce their citizenship policies. Given that countries still vary tremendously in terms of how they attribute and grant citizenship, there is a pressing need to better understand and explain the sources of variation, and the potential for change over time. This book covers the twenty-seven countries that constitute today’s European Union, though it focuses in particular on the fi fteen “older” member-states, which are all net “receiving” countries, facing tremendous pressures of immigration within the shared institutional structure of the EU. Yet it also creates a general framework for empirical analysis that could in principle be applied to other countries of immigration, or even to the entire world. It is my hope that this book will be of interest not only to those who work on Europe, but also to scholars exploring questions of immigration and citizenship in other regions, where the topic is also growing in importance. The research and writing of this book was hardly a solitary endeavor, and I owe my thanks to several institutions and many friends and colleagues. At its earliest stage, my research was supported by a fellowship from the German Marshall Fund of the United States; several grants and a sabbatical from Georgetown University helped move the project along; and a grant from the Alexander von Humboldt Foundation allowed me to fi nish writing the book. In addition to two anonymous reviewers from Cambridge University Press, I am grateful to the following people for their helpful comments on various parts and stages of this project: David Art, Rainer Bauböck, Seyla Benhabib, Nancy Bermeo, Erik Bleich, Mark Blythe, Giovanni Cappocia, Eva Ersbøll, Simon Green, Randall Hansen, Martin Heisler, Dick Howard, Wade Jacoby, Christian Joppke, Evan Lieberman, Adam Luedtke, Willem Maas, Susan Martin, Kathleen McNamara, Anthony Messina, Claus Offe, Craig Parsons, Martin Schain, Rogers Smith, Maarten Vink, Patrick Weil, and Jan Wielgohs. My work benefited from feedback I received after I gave presentations at Princeton, Georgetown, Tufts, Oxford, the American University in Paris, and the Hertie School of Governance in Berlin, as well as at several academic conferences. I apologize to anyone I have forgotten to mention here. I am particularly grateful to Rainer Bauböck and his colleagues – Eva Ersbøll, Kees Groenendijk, Bernhard Perchinig, Wiebke Sievers, and

Preface

xi

Harald Waldrauch – from the NATAC project, who included me in their 2004–2005 conferences in Vienna and generously provided early and complete access to their extremely comprehensive and helpful publications. And I would also like to thank the individual country chapter authors from the NATAC volumes, many of whom were kind enough to read drafts of my sections about their countries of expertise and to provide thoughtful corrections and feedback. I was fortunate to have excellent research assistants over the course of this project. Sean Eudaily, Anamaria Dutceac, and Aspen Brinton helped in its earliest stages as I was still forming my ideas, and Hamutal Bernstein, Leah Gilbert, and Sara Beth Wallace Goodman provided prompt, steadfast, and always cheerful research support as the book came together. For the second time, I have had the pleasure of having a book published by Cambridge University Press. I want to thank my editor, Lew Bateman, for believing in this project and for guiding it through the publication process, as well as Stephanie Sakson, my copy editor and production editor, for her perceptive corrections and suggestions. Finally, there is my family. I dedicate this book to my parents, Dick Howard and Brigitte Howard (née Delaquaize), who not only provided me with the personal situation that sparked my academic interest in citizenship, but have been my regular confidants (and occasional critics) since Day One. They have supported and inspired me in more ways than I can express, and as a relatively new parent myself, I consider them my role models. My wife, Lise Morjé Howard, shares a personal interest in citizenship, having a French passport through her mother, who immigrated from France to the United States as a child and then later reconnected with her large and welcoming French family. Through our partnership and common passions, we have created a life together that I could never have dreamed of without her. And since this book addresses a topic that will become increasingly important over time, I want to thank our two little bundles of joy, Zoe and Julien (each of whom has two passports as well). As I watch them grow up effortlessly in two languages and cultures, I see them confront the same questions about their identity and belonging that I faced several decades ago. And I know that millions of other children will continue to address these questions long into the future.

Introduction

The state is a compound made of citizens; and this compels us to consider who should properly be called a citizen and what a citizen really is. The nature of citizenship, like that of the state, is a question which is often disputed: there is no general agreement on a single defi nition: the man who is a citizen in a democracy is often not one in an oligarchy. – Aristotle 1

Although Aristotle ’s quotation was written more than 2,350 years ago, it raises questions about citizenship that are still relevant today. Indeed, over the course of the last two millennia (and especially the past 50 years), scholars have focused much more on the state than on citizenship. Even leaving aside modern-day oligarchies, and just focusing on liberal democracies, Aristotle’s questions appear timely within the recent context of globalization, large-scale migration, and the decline of many elements of nation-state sovereignty. Given the extent of variation within contemporary democracies, one could perhaps simply rephrase the last clause in the above quotation as follows: “the person who is a citizen in one democracy is often not a citizen in another.” But to what extent, and for what reasons, is this the case? And what are the implications for immigrant integration , national identity, and democratic politics in the modern era? This book addresses these questions with a careful empirical study of the citizenship policies of the fifteen “older” member-states of the European Union (EU). This set of countries constitutes a relatively coherent entity, facing similar pressures of immigration and globalization within the common framework of the EU and its institutional and juridical “harmonization .” 1

Aristotle, The Politics of Aristotle, edited and translated by Ernest Barker (London: Oxford University Press, 1941), pp. 1247b–75a.

1

2

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

The EU therefore provides a useful “laboratory” for analysis, since its member-states span a remarkably wide range of variation. For example, countries such as Belgium or the United Kingdom have long been among the most liberal in the world, whereas Austria and Denmark remain staunchly restrictive, and Finland and Germany were once quite restrictive but have recently liberalized considerably. In other words, a careful examination of the EU countries provides for contrast and variation within a relatively similar set of cases, thus allowing for more “controlled” comparisons than would be possible by looking at the entire world. The starting point for these comparisons is an “empirical baseline ” of citizenship policies across EU countries, based on an innovative yet straightforward measure that captures the core features of otherwise very complex laws. The empirical analysis and theoretical arguments of the book cover two distinct time periods, leading to two different social science “puzzles.” First, I explore the issue of historical variation in the citizenship policies of the EU-15, and I attempt to explain why four of the countries developed what can be considered “historically liberal” policies. Second, I investigate the question of contemporary continuity and change by explaining why, of the eleven historically restrictive countries, six have liberalized their citizenship policies since the 1990s, whereas the other five remain restrictive. Each of these puzzles leads to a different explanatory argument. In accounting for the historical variation, I argue that two experiences were critical: whether or not a country had a prior experience as a colonial power, and whether it became a democracy in the nineteenth century. And to explain the relative continuity or change over the last few decades, I argue that while various international and domestic pressures have led to liberalization in a number of countries, it usually occurred in the absence of public discussion and popular involvement. In contrast, when public opinion becomes mobilized and engaged – usually by a well-organized far right party, but also sometimes by a referendum or petition campaign – on issues related to citizenship reform, liberalization is usually blocked. Methodologically, the book uses a research design that includes both medium-N cross-national analysis and more in-depth case studies. This allows for the combination of broad theoretical and empirical inquiry and focused attention to the particularities and idiosyncrasies of individual countries. The fi ndings are therefore based on several different types of evidence, thus supporting conclusions that are more powerful and persuasive than could be achieved by either method alone. The remainder of this Introduction briefly lays out and justifies my defi nition and application of the concept of citizenship, provides an

Introduction

3

argument for the importance of national citizenship even in the current era of globalization, and then summarizes the organization of the book and the individual chapters.

What Is Citizenship? What exactly is citizenship, and what does it entail? On the most basic level, citizenship bestows upon individuals membership in a “national political community.”2 In liberal democracies, it gives them the right to vote, to run for office, and to participate freely in public activities, while also requiring the obligation of paying taxes and possibly serving in the military. In terms of the larger international community, citizenship serves as what Rogers Brubaker calls “a powerful instrument of social closure,”3 in two respects. First, the boundary of citizenship allows rich states to draw a line that separates its citizens from potential immigrants from poor countries. Second, it allows states to create internal boundaries that separate citizens from foreign residents, by associating certain rights and privileges with national citizenship.4 Citizenship therefore evokes a fundamental paradox within liberal democracies, which Seyla Benhabib has labeled “the paradox of democratic legitimacy.”5 In essence, the paradox is that liberal democracies are, in Brubaker ’s terms, “internally inclusive” while remaining “externally exclusive.”6 This is because liberal democracies are based on the universal language of fundamental human rights , along with the free association and participation of “the people,” yet they also delineate clear and enforceable borders. This refers not only to territorial limits, but also to the boundaries of political membership. Determining who is included in the concept of “the people” also implies at least an implicit understanding of who is excluded.7 2

3

4

5

6 7

See Reinhard Bendix, Nation-Building and Citizenship: Studies of Our Changing Social Order (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1977); Evan S. Lieberman, Race and Regionalism in the Politics of Taxation in Brazil and South Africa (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2003), pp. 12–14. Rogers Brubaker, Citizenship and Nationhood in France and Germany (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1992), p. x. See also John Torpey, The Invention of the Passport: Surveillance, Citizenship and the State (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), pp. 154–157. Seyla Benhabib, “Transformations of Citizenship: The Case of Contemporary Europe,” Government and Opposition 37, no. 4 (2002): 449–453. Brubaker, Citizenship and Nationhood in France and Germany, p. 21. Historically, of course, many groups – women, slaves, non-Christians, nonproperty owners, and others who would fit Kant’s category of “mere auxiliaries to the commonwealth” – have

4

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

My understanding and use of citizenship in this book follow from this appreciation of the critical distinction between citizens and foreigners. My approach treats citizenship as a legal category, and I focus on the formal requirements for having access to citizenship, rather than on the rights, obligations, beliefs, or practices of citizens. Although such a juridical application of citizenship also has tremendous social ramifications, of course, restricting the concept in this way provides a more focused and grounded defi nition, while staying true to the theoretical and empirical debates that started with Aristotle . Given that this project includes a systematic empirical study – based on clear measurements and comparisons – I have intentionally not expanded my conception of citizenship to include the more general concepts of civil society , social capital, or state-society relations, even though I realize that others sometimes use the term “citizenship” to apply to these broader concepts. Although citizenship as I have defi ned it here is the most basic and fundamental starting point of a democratic polity, it has been more commonly studied within the field of political theory, where it has been a flourishing theme over the past decade.8 But few studies to date involve systematic comparative analysis based on a common set of measurements and criteria.9 Compared with such topics as political institutions, the

8

9

been excluded from citizenship in democracies. See Immanuel Kant , The Metaphysics of Morals, translated by M. Gregor (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996 [1797]), p. 92 (cited by Benhabib, “Transformations of Citizenship,” pp. 451–452). See, e.g., Seyla Benhabib, Transformations of Citizenship: Dilemmas of the Nation-State in the Era of Globalization (Amsterdam: Van Gorcum, 2001); Seyla Benhabib, “Political Theory and Political Membership in a Changing World,” in Political Science: State of the Discipline, edited by Ira Katznelson and Helen V. Milner (New York: W. W. Norton, 2002), pp. 404–432; Benhabib, “Transformations of Citizenship,” pp. 439–465; Ronald Beiner, ed., Theorizing Citizenship (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1995); Joseph Carens, “Aliens and Citizens: The Case for Open Borders,” in Theorizing Citizenship, edited by Ronald Beiner (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1995), pp. 229–255; Will Kymlicka and Wayne Norman, eds., Citizenship in Diverse Societies (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000); and David Miller, Citizenship and National Identity (Cambridge, U.K.: Polity Press, 2000). For some exceptions, and valuable steps in this direction, see Dilek Cinar, “From Aliens to Citizens: A Comparative Analysis of Rules of Transition,” in From Aliens to Citizens: Redefi ning the Status of Immigrants in Europe, edited by Rainer Bauböck (Aldershot, U.K.: Avebury, 1994), pp. 49–72; Jeffrey Herbst, States and Power in Africa (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2000); Rey Koslowski, Migrants and Citizens: Demographic Change in the European State System (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2000); and Patrick Weil, “Access to Citizenship: A Comparison of Twenty-Five Nationality Laws,” in Citizenship Today: Global Perspectives and Practices, edited by T. Alexander Aleinikoff and Douglas Klusmeyer (Washington, D.C.: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, 2001), pp. 17–35.

Introduction

5

welfare state, public opinion, and civil society – all of which have spawned multitudes of careful studies across a broad set of countries – the empirical and theoretical dynamics surrounding citizenship in a broad, cross-national perspective remain vague and poorly understood. As a result, despite its ancient and distinguished theoretical heritage, the comparative study of citizenship is still in its relative infancy. With this book, I therefore hope to contribute to this growing field and to help integrate this vital and timely topic into more mainstream comparative debates.

Why National Citizenship Matters In his seminal work on citizenship, T. H. Marshall developed a model based on the experience of industrialization and the emergence of democracy.10 Marshall argued that the extension of rights and benefits go in a specific historical sequence as democracy develops and expands, starting with basic civil rights (freedom of conscience, protection of property, and some associational liberties), leading eventually to political rights (to vote, to hold office, to speak and to associate freely), and fi nally culminating in social rights (to form labor unions and eventually to receive the many social benefits that welfare states provide). The argument is compelling, and it fits the historical experience of the United Kingdom – and to some extent Western Europe in general – quite well. In recent decades, however, the development and establishment of the welfare state has created a new logic that is quite different from Marshall’s historical account. In most liberal democracies today, wide-ranging civil and social rights are extended to almost all workers and legal residents, even if they are not citizens and therefore do not have political rights. In other words, political rights are no longer a prerequisite for social rights. Moreover, in an increasing number of places in both Western Europe and North America, noncitizens are being granted local or regional – but not national – voting rights.11 At the same time as this subnational political participation has been expanding, citizens of countries that are members of the supranational EU can now choose to vote in European elections in their EU country of residence, rather than their country of origin. 10

11

T. H. Marshall, Citizenship and Social Class (London: Cambridge University Press, 1950). For a list of countries and regions that allow different forms of franchise for noncitizens, see T. Alexander Aleinikoff and Douglas Klusmeyer , Citizenship Policies for an Age of Migration (Washington, D.C.: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, 2002), pp. 48–49.

6

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

While Marshall’s historical progression may no longer apply to the contemporary situation, many scholars agree with his normative conclusions concerning social rights as the ultimate priority and objective. This has, in turn, led some to proclaim the current or impending empirical irrelevance of citizenship in the nation-state.12 According to this argument, since social rights can now be achieved without political rights, and since an increasing number of political rights are now available on the sub-national and supra-national level , national citizenship no longer matters. In short, this type of argument places great emphasis on the recent emergence of transnational and “postnational” norms based on individual human rights , which undermine the previously dominant system of nation-states . For a number of reasons, however, I argue that it is far too early to dismiss the relevance of the nation-state and national citizenship. And this is even the case in the EU – where the broader umbrella of “European citizenship” entitles citizens of any EU member state to have a vast set of rights and privileges across the territory of the Union – since EU citizenship is itself strictly derivative of national citizenship. As a result, “third-country nationals” (people who are not citizens of an EU country) still face a number of limitations on their rights and opportunities, and the citizen versus noncitizen distinction therefore remains very important to them and to the society in which they live. First, the right to vote and to run for office in national elections is still extremely consequential, in all countries. Noncitizens, even if they are permanent residents and longtime workers, have no opportunity to participate in the democratic process on the national level. And since citizenship, immigration, and asylum policies are generally implemented on the national level, this means that noncitizens are excluded from taking part in decisions that may directly affect their own lives. Second, despite exaggerated claims that social rights are guaranteed to all, regardless of national citizenship, in many countries noncitizens are still excluded from significant social benefits. For example, five of the nine provinces in Austria do not provide their social assistance programs to people who are not citizens of Austria or another EU country. Many other countries place significant restrictions on the rights granted to new immigrants , particularly third-country nationals, who often receive lower benefits and in 12

See, e.g., Saskia Sassen, Losing Control? Sovereignty in an Age of Globalization (New York: Columbia University Press, 1996); David Jacobson, Rights across Borders: Immigration and the Decline of Citizenship (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1996); Yasemin Nuhoglu Soysal, Limits of Citizenship: Migrants and Postnational Membership in Europe (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994).

Introduction

7

many cases are barred from noncontributory social programs for a certain number of years after arrival.13 In short, while the modern welfare state undoubtedly provides greater benefits to immigrants than did nation-states at earlier points in history, noncitizens receive significantly fewer social rights than do people with national citizenship . Third, although citizenship is generally less relevant for most privatesector employment,14 it is still very important in the allocation of public sector jobs. For example, France accepts only French or EU citizens in railway, postal, and hospital jobs; in Germany , government service employment in such areas as public transportation and education is restricted to German or EU citizens; and to cite a non-European case, the U.S. government can restrict such postings as public school teachers, state troopers, and probation officers to American citizens.15 Within the EU itself, it should be added that, while citizens of an EU country automatically have the right to live and work in another EU country, third-country nationals have more limited rights of movement.16 In other words, noncitizens face de facto restrictions on their labor mobility that EU citizens do not. A fourth reason why national citizenship is still quite significant has to do with the eventual integration of immigrants into the host society. Many scholars have argued that immigrants who become naturalized citizens are likely to become much more integrat ed in their new country than those who remain noncitizen residents, or “denizens .”17 Although more 13 14

15 16

17

Aleinikoff and Klusmeyer, Citizenship Policies for an Age of Migration, pp. 67–68. Nonetheless, discrimination against noncitizens in private employment is not unheard of, and immigrants are generally in less secure positions than citizens. Moreover, family members of immigrants are often excluded from working altogether, even in the private sector, for a certain number of years (e.g., four to eight years in Austria ). See ibid., pp. 67–68. Ibid., pp. 71–72. Until the 1999 European Council meeting in Tampere, third-country nationals could generally only reside and work in the country into which they had immigrated. Since that meeting, third-country nationals who live in an EU member state that participates in the Schengen Agreement – thus excluding the United Kingdom, Ireland, and Denmark – have the right to free movement after a minimum of five years of legal residence, upon acquiring a “Long-Term Residency (EC) Card.” But the implementation of this EU directive has been contested and problematic in many states. See Sonja Boelaert-Suominen, “Non-EU Nationals and Council Directive 2003/109/EC on the Status of Third-Country Nationals Who Are Long-Term Residents: Five Paces Forward and Possibly Three Paces Back,” Common Market Law Review 42, no. 4 (2005): 1011–1052. For arguments and evidence about the positive effect of naturalization on immigrant integration, see Randall Hansen, “A European Citizenship or a Europe of Citizens? Third Country Nationals in the EU,” Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies 24, no. 4 (1998): 751–768; Aleinikoff and Klusmeyer, Citizenship Policies for an Age of Migration; and Bernt Bratsberg, James F. Ragan, and Zafar M. Nasir, “The Effect of Naturalization

8

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

empirical research on these questions is still needed, it is logical to assume that naturalized citizens will tend to have better command of the national language, to experience more loyalty to the new country, to be relatively accepted by their fellow citizens, and of course to enjoy some protections that are available only to citizens, such as the right not to be deported. In other words, while there is considerable variability across groups and countries, citizenship acquisition can serve as a rough measure of integration, and the different possibilities to acquire citizenship will have lasting implications for the long-term integration of immigrants. A fi nal, and much more practical and policy-oriented, dilemma facing the advanced industrialized world – and EU countries in particular – has to do with demographics. European countries have among the lowest birth rates in the world, and they desperately need more workers in order to prevent their pension systems from collapsing over the coming two decades.18 One obvious (though partial) solution to this problem, which has been recognized by scholars and political elites for years, involves increasing levels of immigration and naturalization. Yet the resistance and outright hostility to immigrants has increased noticeably over the past decade, whether measured by public opinion surveys, support for extremeright parties and candidates, or criminal attacks against foreigners. These two countervailing pressures – the need to incorporate more immigrant workers, within a context of an often xenophobic public opposition – will have to be resolved, in one form or another, over time. And political elites will struggle with these contradictory demands, though politicians tend to be more responsive to the short-term nature of the electoral process. The demographic problem, however, is a long-term one, and a key part of its eventual resolution will depend on how these countries define, and enforce, their citizenship policies. In short, whether in terms of politics and elections, welfare state benefits, public-sector employment, social integration, or demographics and pension systems, national citizenship remains an essential and enduring feature of modern life – even in the “supranational” European Union.

18

on Wage Growth: A Panel Study of Young Male Immigrants,” Journal of Labor Economics 20, no. 3 (2002): 568–597. For the origin of the term “denizen,” see Tomas Hammar, Democracy and the Nation-State: Aliens, Denizens and Citizens in a World of International Migration (Aldershot: Avebury, 1990). As one EU report put it, most pension systems will be facing an “unsustainable fi nancial burden” within 10–15 years. See European Commission, “Proposal for a Joint Report by the Commission and the Council on Adequate and Sustainable Pensions” (2002), pp. 11–12.

Introduction

9

The Organization of the Book The book’s eight chapters are divided into two parts. Part I covers the EU-15 in a broad sweep, developing the book’s main theoretical arguments and cross-national empirical fi ndings, covering both the historical and contemporary time periods. Part II focuses more closely on the specific country groupings that share certain core features: formerly restrictive countries that have recently liberalized, those that have remained restrictive, the pivotal intermediate case of Germany, the historically liberal countries, and the twelve new EU members. Chapter 1 provides the crucial “empirical baseline” for both historical variation and recent changes in the EU-15. I construct a “Citizenship Policy Index” (CPI) that codes all fifteen countries on three key components – whether the country grants jus soli, or citizenship by birth; the length of the residency requirement for naturalization; and whether naturalized immigrants can hold dual citizenship – while also providing an overall score.19 I argue that these are the most important general elements of a country’s citizenship policy, even though each country’s laws contain many other features, conditions, and exceptions. And by aggregating these three components, I distinguish between countries that can be considered “restrictive,” “medium,” or “liberal” in their granting of citizenship. Moreover, by analyzing the citizenship policies of the EU-15 at two different points in time – the 1980s (when the laws were still closely in line with each country’s historical origins) and in 2008 – I can specify the extent to which countries have changed over the past several decades. Chapter 1 thereby sets up the two “puzzles” described above, which I address in the following two chapters. Chapter 2 seeks to explain the historical variation among the EU-15, as measured by their citizenship policies in the 1980s. I propose two main (and overlapping) historical factors , which I argue have helped to explain the trajectories taken by each country. The fi rst is whether or not a country is a former colonial power – on a large scale, outside Europe, and over a sustained time period. Those countries that were colonial powers generally developed relationships with the outside world and its people. And even though these relationships were usually hierarchical, exploitative, and violent – that is, not at all based on liberal principles – they 19

The coding involves several nuances and distinctions for all three criteria, and I also make slight adjustments based on countries’ actual naturalization rates and whether they now mandate “civic integration requirements.” Chapter 1 provides a detailed explanation of the coding procedures, and the full scores are provided in the Appendix.

10

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

created long-term “affi nities” between colonizing and colonized countries that still exist today, leaving a lasting impact on immigration and citizenship patterns and policies. The second factor involves whether a country was democratic in the nineteenth century. Early democratizers were much more likely to develop a more inclusive conception of national identity – based on civic, rather than strictly ethnic , terms. And for that reason, foreigners were more likely to be included as members of the society. In contrast, countries that only democratized in the twentieth century were more likely to solidify a conception of the national group that excluded people with different appearances, languages, and traditions. These two factors are obviously closely related, since most of the early democratizers were also colonial powers that accepted immigrants from their former colonies into their societies. After considering several alternative arguments, the chapter explores the empirical evidence, which shows a close relationship between my two factors and countries’ historical citizenship policies. Chapter 3 turns to recent and contemporary change in the eleven historically restrictive countries, and it seeks to explain how and why six of them have liberalized their citizenship policies, while five have resisted change. The chapter develops an argument based on what I call “the politics of citizenship,” which focuses on the contingent political strategies and debates over citizenship in each country. I start by identifying “latent pressures” for both liberalization and restrictiveness that influence policymakers in different ways across countries. On one side, international factors (such as economic globalization and new norms of “postnational” human rights ) as well as domestic causes (including interest group politics and the judicial system) have certainly exerted pressures for citizenship liberalization. On the other side, surveys show that public opinion throughout Europe is quite xenophobic and hostile to immigrants,20 thus creating a potentially restrictive force. To account for which type of pressure is ultimately successful, I propose a two-step mechanism. The fi rst step considers the ideological orientation of the political parties in power, as parties on the center-left are more likely to support immigrants, while parties on the center-right favor the expansion of rights for emigrants .21 The more important second step

20

21

Surveys show that there is variation across countries, of course, but overall the levels of anti-immigrant sentiment are very high in all EU countries. This part of the argument draws on Christian Joppke , “Citizenship between De- and Re-Ethnicization,” European Journal of Sociology 44, no. 3 (2003): 429–458.

Introduction

11

focuses on the mobilization of anti-immigrant public opinion, in the form of a successful far right party, a popular movement, or a referendum on the issue of immigration or citizenship. I argue that if the discussion remains on the elite level, the pressures for liberalization will usually be successful. If, however, anti-immigrant sentiment is “activated” and mobilized politically, it will essentially trump the liberalizing pressures, resulting in restrictive continuity. After developing the argument in theoretical terms and considering a number of alternative arguments, the rest of the chapter turns to the empirical evidence – based on a measure of the average strength of far right parties in each of the eleven relevant countries. The fi ndings show a clear relationship between the strength of the far right and the absence of citizenship liberalization, thus providing compelling support for this political argument. Whereas the arguments developed in Part I are based on a broad comparative analysis, Part II pays closer attention to individual cases, for the purpose of spelling out my argument about the connection between public mobilization and contemporary citizenship outcomes in more detail. The chapters in Part II are organized by groupings of countries that fit the theoretical dynamics developed in the fi rst part of the book. In each of the chapters, I identify the common dynamics and noteworthy differences that apply to the countries in each group. My focus is squarely on the politics of citizenship , showing how, on what terms, and under the influence of which actors the political battles have been fought. Chapter 4 focuses on Sweden , Finland , Luxembourg , the Netherlands , and Portugal , all of which have liberalized their citizenship laws considerably. The two Nordic countries and the Netherlands began to accept dual citizenship for immigrants, thereby representing a significant departure from their previous policies, which had expressly opposed dual citizenship. Luxembourg and Portugal both reduced their residency requirements, thus making it easier for immigrants to become naturalized citizens. And Portugal considerably opened up its restrictions on jus soli . In all five countries, however, there has been strikingly little far right mobilization around the issues of immigration and citizenship.22 This set of cases thus provides the opportunity to show how liberalizing pressures played an important role in the policy shift. The absence of the “trumping” factor of antiimmigrant mobilization gave free reign to the pro-liberalization forces.

22

A partial exception is the Netherlands in the 2000s, where the far right has been strengthened, but this has taken place after its liberalization in the mid-1990s.

12

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

In Chapter 5, by focusing on the five restrictive countries that did not liberalize their laws at all, I develop my argument about the importance of the far right in more detail. As expected, in Austria , Denmark , and Italy , which have had strong far right parties for well over a decade, the pressures for liberalization were effectively blocked, as the Freedom Party , People’s Party , and National Alliance and Northern Leagu e have all exerted a tremendous influence on policymaking in their respective countries. In all three countries, these powerful and savvy xenophobic and anti-immigrant forces successfully prevented citizenship liberalization. The chapter also analyzes the cases of Greece and Spain , which have very weak far right movements yet have not liberalized – for different reasons, and each with different prospects for future liberalization. Chapter 6 focuses on Germany , which is a difficult case to classify, as it is a case of both liberalizing change and restrictive continuity. On the one hand, Germany’s citizenship policy certainly became more liberal in 2000, as the new law reduced the residency requirement from fi fteen to eight years and opened the door to jus soli . This represents a significant liberalizing change given Germany’s long and notorious history based on a blood-based defi nition of national membership. On the other hand, the law was a much watered-down compromise of the initial proposal of the newly elected Social Democratic /Green government in 1998, which had stressed full dual citizenship as its central objective. And the proposal was defeated after millions of Germans supported a highly successful petition campaign against dual citizenship in the state of Hesse , thus forcing the government to compromise with the opposition. This chapter retraces the debates over the change in the citizenship law, explaining how elite negotiations brought about the liberalizing change, and also how the sudden mobilization of anti-immigrant sentiment in the population created a restrictive backlash that blocked further liberalization. Having covered the issue of continuity and change in the eleven most restrictive countries of the EU-15 in the previous chapters, Chapter 7 turns to the politics of citizenship in the four historically liberal countries. While the question of citizenship liberalization is not relevant for these cases, this does not mean that citizenship policy is no longer debated or contested. The chapter shows how Belgium , France , Ireland , and the United Kingdom all have seen immigration and citizenship emerge as highly polarizing political issues, and they have experienced some tinkering with their citizenship laws in recent years. I argue that the politicization of immigration and citizenship will continue to grow, particularly in the event of new acts of violence and terrorism on European soil. Even the historically liberal states have entered

Introduction

13

a new – and very uncertain – phase, in which the ideological spectrum is becoming increasingly blurred, and arguments that were usually associated with the far right have now entered the European mainstream. The issues of xenophobia and public mobilization will remain just as central in this set of countries as in the others analyzed in this book. Although the EU added ten new members in May 2004, and two more in January 2007, this book is primarily concerned with the fi fteen “older” member-states of the EU, since they all face tremendous pressures of immigration, in a very different form and on a completely different scale from the “accession countries.” Nonetheless, Chapter 8 devotes some consideration to the impact and implications of the citizenship policies of the new members on the general EU picture presented in the preceding chapters. This chapter analyzes the citizenship policies of the accession countries according to the same criteria developed in Chapter 1, showing that they are significantly more restrictive than the EU-15 countries. The inclusion of the “Accession-12” within the EU-27 adds to the overall picture that shows considerable variation across the now-wider territory of the EU. Finally, the concluding chapter discusses some of the wider implications of the fi ndings presented in these pages, including the potential for postnational and European citizenship, the problem that “direct democracy” poses for the citizenship rights of immigrants, and the challenges to my primarily legal and formalistic approach to citizenship. Overall, the findings of this book not only illustrate the extent of crossnational variation in citizenship policies within the countries of the EU at two different time periods, but help to demonstrate the applicability of comparative analysis to the topic of citizenship. Based on an original set of measures of citizenship policies, the book raises important questions about the historical and contemporary trajectories of immigrant integration . And it makes innovative arguments about the historical impact of colonialism and early democratization , as well as the contemporary power of the mobilization of anti-immigrant sentiment .

Part I ARGUMENT

1 Citizenship in Cross-National Perspective An Empirical Baseline in the EU-15

Introduction The starting point of any comparative analysis of national policies needs to provide a common methodological framework to measure the issue at hand. Unlike in the realm of economic or social policies – where a variety of concepts already have well-established indicators, measures, and databases – citizenship policy represents a relatively new terrain with few existing measures and data sources. Indeed, only in the last decade have scholars attempted to compare systematically the different citizenship laws and practices of certain advanced industrialized countries, and most have done so without seeking to create an overall index with which to compare countries on aggregate terms. This chapter provides such an empirical baseline , thus forming the basis for much of the empirical analysis that follows in the subsequent chapters. It starts with a brief summary of existing empirical work on comparative citizenship. Then it develops a new measure, the Citizenship Policy Index (CPI), which builds on my earlier work but also adds more refi ned and systematic measures. Finally, it presents the CPI results for the EU-15, presenting their scores at two different time periods, the 1980s and 2008. This sets up the analysis that follows in the rest of the book, whereby I attempt to account for both the historical variation displayed in the 1980s and the more recent changes in many countries.

17

18

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

The Challenge of Characterizing and Categorizing Citizenship Policies Much of the empirical study of citizenship has either focused on a small number of countries,1 or it is concentrated in edited volumes.2 While the case study approach is certainly valuable, and it allows for a better understanding of the dynamics of citizenship policy within certain key countries, it does not enable analysts to trace systematically the variation across the countries of the EU. Similarly, although edited volumes generally group together some outstanding individual contributions, and collectively they cover the recent changes in a wide array of countries, they do not constitute rigorous comparative work on citizenship policy in the countries of the EU. Fortunately, a major collaborative study of citizenship laws in the fifteen “older” EU member states has recently been completed. The project, known as NATAC (“The Acquisition of Nationality in EU Member States: Rules, Practices and Quantitative Developments”), was directed by Rainer Bauböck and funded primarily by the European Commission, and its fi ndings were published by Amsterdam University Press in a two-volume book in 2006. The NATAC volumes certainly provide the most detailed, comprehensive, and systematic analyses of citizenship policies that exist to date. While they present an invaluable resource for scholars researching citizenship, the NATAC volumes do not provide a larger cross-national classification system to make sense of the vast amount of detail, thus enabling 1

2

See Rogers Brubaker, Citizenship and Nationhood in France and Germany (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1992); Christian Joppke, Immigration and the Nation-State: The United States, Germany, and Great Britain (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999); Miriam Feldblum, Reconstructing Citizenship: The Politics of Nationality Reform and Immigration in Contemporary France (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1999); Joel S. Fetzer, Public Attitudes toward Immigration in the United States, France, and Germany (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000); Ruth Rubio-Marín, Immigration as a Democratic Challenge: Citizenship and Inclusion in Germany and the United States (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000). Bruno Nascimbene, ed., Nationality Laws in the European Union (Milan, Italy: Giuffrè Editore, 1996); Randall Hansen and Patrick Weil, eds., Towards a European Nationality: Citizenship, Immigration, and Nationality Law in the EU (New York: Palgrave, 2001); Randall Hansen and Patrick Weil, eds., Dual Nationality, Social Rights, and Federal Citizenship in the US and Europe: The Reinvention of Citizenship (New York: Berghahn Books, 2002); T. Alexander Aleinikoff and Douglas Klusmeyer, eds., From Migrants to Citizens: Membership in a Changing World (Washington, D.C.: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, 2000); T. Alexander Aleinikoff and Douglas Klusmeyer, eds., Citizenship Today: Global Perspectives and Practices (Washington, D.C.: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, 2001); Michael Hanagan and Charles Tilly, eds., Extending Citizenship, Reconfiguring States (Lanham, Md.: Rowman & Littlefield, 1999).

Citizenship in Cross-National Perspective

19

a more general categorization of countries. In other words, we still lack a clear understanding of how citizenship policies actually vary across the EU countries, which would permit us to go beyond the complex legal and technical specificities of each case to a conceptual level that aggregates these differences into meaningful and tangible categories. This is not an easy task, however, for comparing citizenship policies is an extremely difficult process – not least because many EU countries have changed their laws in recent years. Nonetheless, there is a strong need for such analysis, and the “raw materials” exist within the NATAC project, the laws themselves, country-level data, and the fast-growing number of sources of information on national citizenship policies. The following sections therefore present what I view as the best way of systematically categorizing and comparing national citizenship policies.

A New Citizenship Policy Index The Citizenship Policy Index (CPI) that constitutes the empirical starting point of this book represents a significant improvement over another version that I published in two previous journal articles.3 Whereas the earlier CPI was based on my own coding of the citizenship laws on a few key elements of citizenship policy, the new CPI draws on the extensive research – by individual country experts, within a common methodological framework – that went into the NATAC project. It also incorporates a very recent development that most studies of comparative citizenship have not yet dealt with systematically, namely, the new language and civic integration requirements that a number of countries have mandated as a condition for naturalization.4 This has allowed me to develop a much more refined and accurate index to assess and compare the citizenship policies of the EU-15. 3

4

See Marc Morjé Howard, “Comparative Citizenship: An Agenda for Cross-National Research,” Perspectives on Politics 4, no. 3 (2006): 443–455; Marc Morjé Howard, “Variation in Dual Citizenship Policies in the Countries of the EU,” International Migration Review 39, no. 3 (2005): 697–720. For the best analysis of these requirements to date, based on systematic measures and comparative analysis, see Sara Wallace Goodman , “Integration Requirements for Integration’s Sake? Identifying, Categorizing, and Comparing Civic Integration Policies,” Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies [forthcoming]. For more descriptive accounts, see Christian Joppke, “Comparative Citizenship: A Restrictive Turn in Europe?” Journal of Law & Ethics of Human Rights 2, no. 1 (2008): 1–41; Dirk Jacobs and Andrea Rea, “The End of National Models? Integration Courses and Citizenship Trajectories in Europe,” paper presented at the European Union Studies Association, Montréal, May 17–19, 2007.

20

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

Like the earlier version, the new CPI consists of a simple addition of the following three factors: (1) whether a country grants jus soli , that is, whether children of noncitizens who are born in a country’s territory can acquire that country’s citizenship (either immediately at birth or automatically after a certain number of years of residence), (2) the minimum length of its residency requirement for naturalization (for both immigrants themselves and immigrant spouses who are married to citizens), and (3) whether or not naturalized immigrants are allowed to hold dual citizenship . Each component is scored on a 0–2 scale, yielding a 0–6 point range for the total index. Before turning to the actual scores for the EU-15, the individual components merit further elaboration. Jus Soli One of the most important elements of a country’s citizenship policies involves how newborn children acquire their citizenship. The standard classification that scholars have made involves the distinction between jus sanguinis (“law of blood”) and jus soli (“law of the soil”), with the former indicating citizenship passed down by lineage and the latter referring to citizenship by birth in a given country. Although these two concepts have often been presented as a strict dichotomy – with countries having citizenship laws based on either one or the other – in reality all countries follow jus sanguinis (even the classic jus soli countries).5 The crucial test in terms of the relative liberality of a country’s citizenship policy is whether children born on its soil (i.e., “second-generation” or “third-generation” immigrants) will automatically receive that country’s citizenship. In practice, there is a great deal of variation in the way in which countries grant jus soli – for example, the United States and Canada allow it (as did Ireland until 2004) regardless of the immigrant status of the parents, while even the most inclusive European countries impose certain conditions and requirements, usually tied to the length of legal residence of the parents. The new CPI captures both jus soli at birth (whether children of immigrants receive citizenship at birth) and jus soli after birth (whether they are guaranteed to receive citizenship automatically at a certain age, 5

See also the skeptical discussion of this dichotomy in T. Alexander Aleinikoff and Douglas Klusmeyer , Citizenship Policies for an Age of Migration (Washington, D.C.: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, 2002), as well as in Weil, “Access to Citizenship: A Comparison of Twenty-Five Nationality Laws,” in Aleinikoff and Klusmeyer, eds., Citizenship Today, pp. 17–35.

Citizenship in Cross-National Perspective

21

and/or after a certain number of years of residence). The CPI provides separate scores for each of these elements, along with a fi nal score that is the average of the two. Moreover, the jus soli at birth score provides several intermediate scores between 0 and 2 points, which capture some of the intermediate policies such as “double jus soli .”6 More specifically, in terms of the EU-15 in the contemporary time period, countries that do not have any provisions for jus soli at birth (Austria , Denmark , Finland , Greece , Italy , and Luxembourg ) receive a score of 0 on the jus soli at birth component. Countries that allow for double jus soli (Belgium , France , the Netherlands , and Spain ) – whereby children born in a country can receive that country’s citizenship provided that one of the parents was also born there – receive 1 point. Sweden receives a score of 1.5, based on its unique policy of granting all minors who reside in Sweden (whether born there or not) for five years a legal entitlement to citizenship.7 Germany , Portugal , and the United Kingdom , which require that one of the parents be a long-term legal resident, now receive 1.5 points. And Ireland , which only requires that one parent have been in the country for three of the previous four years (and that only since the 2004 referendum, and still not necessarily with a legal residence permit), is the only country to receive the full 2 points on this component. Jus soli after birth captures whether or not a country allows for someone who is born in the country to receive citizenship at a later date (often upon reaching adulthood). The key distinction here is whether this provision is an entitlement that is available – for those who have lived in the country for some minimum period of time – either automatically8 or by “declaration,” or whether it is subject to the arbitrary discretion of the country’s bureaucracy. In the latter case (as in Austria ,9 Germany , Greece , and Italy ), 6

7 8

9

Note that the old CPI only distinguished between countries that allow for some form of jus soli and those that do not (without any consideration of jus soli after birth, or of intermediate categories). I thank Eva Ersbøll for clarifying and emphasizing this point to me. France is the only country that grants jus soli after birth automatically. In fact, a person has to specifically state his or her wish not to have French citizenship, by fi ling this “declaration” in a local court or French consulate (if living abroad) within a period from six months before turning eighteen to one year afterward. This renunciation is only granted if the person has another citizenship, of course. An important amendment to the Austrian citizenship law was passed in December 2005 and came into force in March 2006. Overall, the law adds several measures that will make Austria’s policy even more restrictive than before. However, one liberalizing feature was the introduction of a “legal entitlement to acquisition of Austrian nationality after six years, if they comply with the general conditions for naturalisation . … Birth in Austria will thus for the fi rst time establish a legal claim to the acquisition of nationality.” While

22

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

a country receives 0 points; if, however, the country provides for jus soli after birth – either automatically or by declaration – it receives the full 2 points on this element of jus soli. Finally, I have averaged the scores of jus soli at birth and jus soli after birth, thus yielding a fi nal jus soli score that is both differentiated and accurate. Naturalization Requirements Another crucial component of a country’s policy on citizenship involves the relative transparency and ease with which foreign residents can become naturalized citizens. Naturalization requirements vary tremendously across countries, but they do include some common features, including a residency requirement – or the number of years a person must legally reside in a country before being eligible to apply for citizenship. Other requirements sometimes include knowledge of the “new” country’s language and/or history, sufficient income, good character, the absence of a criminal record, and a loyalty oath. Unfortunately, it is impossible to know how these other requirements vary in practice, since they may genuinely constitute impediments in some cases, while not in others.10 Moreover, while it would be helpful to analyze national statistics on the number and type of applications, the percentage of acceptances or rejections, and the reasons why, such detailed statistics are completely unavailable. Given these confounding legal technicalities, the residency requirement – while certainly imperfect as an indicator – appears to be the best available

10

perhaps this would suggest that Austria should now be coded as a 2 on jus soli after birth, it is far too early to conclude that this is actually the case. As Çinar and Waldrauch add, “this move towards ius soli is seriously called into question by the many conditions for naturalisation that apply to these native-born persons as they do to immigrants.” As a result, I would argue that it still makes sense to keep Austria’s score a 0 on this component. See Dilek Çinar and Harald Waldrauch, “Austria,” in Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, Volume 2, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Eva Ersbøll, Kees Groenendijk, and Harald Waldrauch (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2006), p. 53. Even shedding light on the intricacies themselves does not necessarily provide a clear picture of the actual extent of naturalization. This is particularly the case for countries that follow “discretionary” naturalization, in which applications are arbitrarily approved or denied, without possibility for appeal. Complicating things further, the fact that a country uses discretionary naturalization does not automatically mean that such power is abused in an arbitrary and inconsistent manner; the “discretion” can just be a formality that does not signifi cantly alter the outcome for applicants. But it does suggest the possibility that ultimate enforcement may not be as straightforward as the various terms of naturalization seem on paper, which is indeed the case in many countries.

Citizenship in Cross-National Perspective

23

measure by which to compare how naturalization requirements vary across countries.11 The new CPI considers two types of residency requirements: the number of years before an individual immigrant can become a naturalized citizen (“immigrant naturalization”) and the time required for an immigrant who is married to a citizen (“spousal naturalization”). These are the two most common ways for an immigrant to acquire a country’s citizenship. In addition, the new score penalizes countries that have added “civic integration” requirements – such as mandatory language and civics tests – that add restrictions to naturalization. And it also uses actual naturalization rates as a check to ensure that the relative inclusiveness or restrictiveness of the policies is also reflected in the extent of people really naturalizing, by reducing the scores of countries (to different degrees) with low levels of naturalization rates. On immigrant naturalization, the coding grants the full 2 points to countries that require only three years of residence, and 0 points for those requiring ten or more. It also gives proportionate intermediate scores to countries with residence requirements in between three and ten years.12 On spousal naturalization – where all countries have lower residency requirements – the scale is slightly different: countries that require that immigrants have been residents and/or married13 for three years or fewer receive the full 2 points; those requiring four years receive 1.5 points; five years corresponds to 1 point; six to 0.5; and seven or more to 0 points. The immigrant and spousal naturalization scores are then averaged, yielding a combined naturalization score. The next refinement to the coding of naturalization requirements in the new CPI takes into account that some countries have recently added several “civic integration” requirements that may serve as a disincentive or obstacle to naturalization. I have therefore reduced the scores of countries – by either 11

12

13

Note that Aleinikoff and Klusmeyer also focus in particular on the residency requirement, as they recommend that “a required period of residence should not exceed five years.” See Citizenship Policies for an Age of Migration, p. 21. For example, a country with a four-year residency requirement gets a score of 1.71, one requiring five years receives a 1.43, and so on, using seven equal increments of 0.29. The ways in which countries defi ne their minimum number of years of marriage and/ or residency are very confusing, and they vary considerably. In my classification, I have therefore captured the minimum time for whichever one is longer. In cases (e.g., Austria or Denmark) where the country specifies different residency requirements depending on whether the couple has already been married for one, two, or three years, I have selected the requirement for the one-year marriages. This follows the same logic that other scholars have used. See, e.g., Weil, “Access to Citizenship,” p. 24; and Aleinikoff and Klusmeyer, Citizenship Policies for an Age of Migration, p. 19.

24

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

0.25 or 0.5, depending on how difficult the new requirement or test seems to be – that have such policies, on both immigrant and spousal naturalization separately (since in some cases the requirements do not apply to spouses). The fi nal step applies a “correction” to the average naturalization score, by reducing the scores for countries that in reality have extremely low numbers of naturalizations. This helps to account for the potential problem of a country appearing to have a very inclusive naturalization policy, but in reality – whether due to administrative “discretion” or other barriers or disincentives – being much more restrictive in practice. In doing so, I incorporate what is commonly known as the “naturalization rate ,” even though the label is slightly misleading. This rate corresponds to the number of citizenship acquisitions as a percentage of the total foreign resident population. In my view, it should not be relied on too closely, since the rates may depend significantly on the provenance of the immigrant population, as well as the demographic patterns of immigration (whereby some countries have more recently arrived immigrants, while others have long-term immigrants who have been settled for a generation or more). Nonetheless, given that all of the EU-15 countries have sufficiently large settled immigrant populations from outside the EU, it is useful for discerning clear differences and thresholds between countries. Drawing on Eurostat data to create an average naturalization rate for the years 2000–2005,14 I therefore adjust the final naturalization scores using a sliding scale: countries with naturalization rates of under 0.25% (Greece ) are reduced by 1 point; those with rates between 0.25% and 0.75% (Italy , Luxembourg , and Portugal 15) drop by 0.75 points; naturalization rates between 0.75% and 1.5% (Ireland and Spain ) get decreased by 0.5 points; and countries in the 1.5% to 2.5% range (Germany ) have their naturalization scores reduced by 0.25 points. In cases when the “correction” creates a negative value, I reset the score to 0. This creates a final naturalization score that more accurately reflects the relative ease or difficulty with which immigrants can acquire citizenship. Dual Citizenship for Immigrants A closely related component of citizenship policy involves whether countries allow their citizens to hold dual citizenship. A key distinction, however, is 14

15

Since some countries are missing data on citizenship acquisitions for some years, the fi nal score for each country is the average of all years for which there are data available. Note that since Portugal changed its citizenship law only in late 2006, I have reduced its score by 0.5 points, instead of the full 0.75, based on the assumption that the new law will lead to an increase in the number of people acquiring Portuguese citizenship.

Citizenship in Cross-National Perspective

25

between countries that allow dual citizenship primarily for their émigrés who either naturalized or were born in another country and took on that citizenship as well and countries that allow fi rst-generation immigrants to become naturalized citizens while still maintaining their current citizenship. In other words, there is an important difference between what might be called “emigrant dual citizenship ,” which comes at little direct cost to the emigrant or “sending” country , and often serves to maintain and promote stronger cultural and linguistic connections to people who reside permanently in another country, and “immigrant dual citizenship,” which allows for the integration of foreigners as naturalized citizens who plan to live, work, and settle permanently in the host or “receiving” country. Immigrant dual citizenship is clearly a much higher standard in terms of maintaining an inclusive citizenship policy. The new CPI gives 2 points for countries that have no restrictions on allowing immigrants to retain their prior citizenship upon naturalization, and 0 points for those who expressly forbid it. But it also scores several intermediate cases: Germany receives a score of 1, since there are also a large number of dual citizenships in practice (for cases when the new citizens were unable to relinquish their prior passports without suffering serious consequences from their original country);16 Netherlands receives a 1.5 as a result of the numerous and explicit exceptions that were established over the course of the 1990s, resulting in a very liberal dual citizenship policy in practice;17 and Spain receives a score of 1, since it does not require proof of renunciation of the prior citizenship and thereby does not really enforce its official ban on dual citizenship. These dual citizenship scores are then “corrected,” or reduced, by the same “naturalization rates ” criterion described for the naturalization requirements component (and any negative scores are reset to 0). Although technically the reduction should be applied strictly to naturalization 16

17

For example, according to an official at the Commissioner for Foreigners of the federal government (Ausländerbeauftragte der Bundesregierung), over 25% of Turks in Germany have dual citizenship. Interview with Tarik Tabbara, October 2004. Note also that “immigrant dual citizenship” refers to those immigrants who naturalize, and it should not be confused with Germany’s unique policy of allowing temporary dual citizenship for children who acquire German citizenship via jus soli, but then must choose one or the other between the ages of sixteen and twenty-three. See Maarten P. Vink, “The Limited Europeanization of Domestic Citizenship Policy: Evidence from the Netherlands,” Journal of Common Market Studies 39, no. 5 (2001): 875–896. However, I should also point out that this generous Dutch policy on dual citizenship for immigrants has been tightened somewhat since 2003. See Ricky van Oers, Betty de Hart, and Kees Groenendijk, “The Netherlands,” in Bauböck et al., eds., Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, Volume 2, esp. p. 408.

26

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

requirements, in my view the application of a liberal dual citizenship policy is ultimately devalued if very few people can actually become citizens. It is therefore important to adjust the scores to reflect the possibility for immigrants to actually benefit from these policies. The result is a more sensitive and meaningful fi nal score on dual citizenship for immigrants. By breaking down each country’s citizenship laws and practices into these three key components – jus soli , residency requirement for naturalization , and acceptance of dual citizenship for immigrants – and coding them systematically, both separately and in aggregate form, we can achieve a more nuanced, accurate, and descriptive picture of the variation within the EU countries than has been provided by individual case studies, edited volumes, and detailed policy analysis. That said, there are certainly limitations to such an approach, including the sacrifice of much of the nuance, qualifications, and exceptions to each country’s particular citizenship policies. In an ideal social science world, one would be able to develop a variety of more intricate categories in order to compare across countries. Unfortunately, however, the complexities of the laws themselves – as well as the combination of components that are in some cases temporary (e.g., residency requirements) and in others more permanent (e.g., the right to dual citizenship or the requirement of a language or civics test) – prevent this. As a result, the approximation provided by the more nuanced CPI along these three major components of citizenship is the best available alternative .

Comparative Evidence from the EU 15 Having introduced the three key components of a country’s citizenship policy, we can now present the empirical evidence from the countries of the EU. Over the past several decades, as the EU has been integrating and “harmon izing” in just about every area – from economic to judicial to social issues – has a similar development taken place in terms of citizenship? Since the answer to that question depends on the presence or absence of change, it is important to start with two clearly defi ned points in time as benchmarks. One, which I call “the 1980s,” is admittedly somewhat arbitrary, but that time period can serve as a general proxy for previous laws and traditions. Indeed, in most cases the laws in the 1980s were identical to or closely in line with the historical origins of each country’s laws.18 18

For historical overviews of all fi fteen EU countries, see the excellent chapters in Hansen and Weil , Towards a European Nationality.

Citizenship in Cross-National Perspective

27

Table 1.1. The Three Main Components of Citizenship Policies for the EU-15 in the 1980s

Jus soli (0–2)

Naturalization requirements (0–2)

Dual citizenship for immigrants (0–2)

CPI score (0–6)

Category

Country

Restrictive

Germany Austria Luxembourg Italy Greece Spain Denmark

0.00 0.00 0.00 0.00 0.00 0.50 0.00

0.00 0.50 0.50 0.72 0.00 0.75 1.43

0.00 0.00 0.00 0.00 1.25 0.00 0.00

0.00 0.50 0.50 0.72 1.25 1.25 1.43

Medium

Finland Sweden Portugal Netherlands

0.00 0.00 0.75 1.50

1.72 1.72 0.00 1.22

0.00 0.00 1.00 0.00

1.72 1.72 1.75 2.72

Liberal

France Ireland Belgium U.K.

1.50 2.00 1.50 1.75

1.22 1.11 1.75 1.72

1.50 1.25 1.75 2.00

4.22 4.36 5.00 5.47

Using this general label allows us to account for any changes that may have occurred at any time during that decade.19 The second point in time is the contemporary period, based on the existing laws and practices at the end of 2008. The comparison of the two time periods – using the same methodological criteria – allows us to explain both historical variation and recent change. Turning to the results, Table 1.1 shows the country scores for the EU-15 – with the countries ordered in terms of their total CPI score, from lowest to highest – on each of the three components in the 1980s, and Table 1.2 presents the same scores for the contemporary period.20 Each of the tables distinguishes between three groups of countries, depending on whether their citizenship policies can be characterized as “restrictive” (scores between 0 and 1.5), “medium” (over 1.5 but less than 4), or “liberal” 19 20

In a sense, therefore, the effective cut-off date for this time period is 1990. For a detailed breakdown of the calculation of each of these scores, see the Appendix.

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

28

Table 1.2. The Three Main Components of Citizenship Policies for the EU-15 in 2008

Jus soli (0–2)

Naturalization requirements (0–2)

Dual citizenship for immigrants (0–2)

Restrictive Austria Denmark Greece Spain Italy

0.00 0.00 0.00 0.50 0.00

0.00 0.00 0.00 0.38 0.25

0.00 0.00 1.00 0.50 1.25

0.00 0.00 1.00 1.38 1.50

Medium

Germany Luxembourg

0.75 1.00

0.54 0.00

0.75 1.25

2.04 2.25

Liberal

Netherlands Finland Portugal Ireland France U.K. Sweden Belgium

1.50 1.00 1.75 2.00 1.50 1.75 1.50 1.50

1.22 1.32 1.07 1.36 1.47 1.22 1.72 2.00

1.50 2.00 1.50 1.50 2.00 2.00 2.00 2.00

4.22 4.32 4.32 4.86 4.97 4.97 5.22 5.50

Category

Country

CPI score (0–6)

(4 and above).21 Both tables show a great deal of variation on each of the three components of the CPI, as the scores span the full spectrum of the 0–2 range on just about all of the components. And the total scores also display wide variation in both time periods as well. Table 1.1 shows that seven countries (Austria , Denmark , Germany , Greece , Italy , Luxembourg , and Spain ) could be characterized as “historically restrictive” in the 1980s, although some were more so than others. Finland , the Netherlands , Portugal , and Sweden were in the “medium” category, though with different combinations of scores distinguishing the Nordic and non-Nordic countries. Finally, the four-country group of Belgium , France , Ireland , and the United K ingdom constitute 21

Note that my use of the word “liberal” in this book is mainly with reference to the issue of citizenship policies, not to the various meanings and traditions associated with the concept of liberalism . In other words, the categories “liberal” and “restrictive” are essentially measures of the inclusiveness of each country’s citizenship policies.

Citizenship in Cross-National Perspective

29

Belgium United Kingdom France Ireland Sweden Portugal Finland Netherlands

1980s Today

Luxembourg Germany Italy Spain Greece Denmark Austria 0

1

2

3

4

5

6

Figure 1.1. Citizenship Policy Index, 1980s and today.

the “historically liberal” category, with quite inclusive scores on all three components of the CPI. Overall, the table indicates that the historical variation in citizenship policies in what later became the EU-15 was very pronounced. This historical pattern was rather rapidly undone, however, over the next decade or two. As Table 1.2 shows, five of the seven countries (Austria , Denmark , Greece , Italy , and Spain ) still remain in the “restrictive” category, while Germany and Luxembourg moved up to the “medium” group. At the same time, Finland , the Netherlands , Portugal , and Sweden all moved up from “medium” to “liberal.” As a result, a slight majority of the EU-15 can now be considered to have liberal citizenship policies. Figure 1.1 compares the two time periods more explicitly, showing the overall CPI scores in both the 1980s and 2008. The figure shows that most of the countries displayed relatively small changes of under 1 point, but six countries saw their CPI scores liberalize considerably. The Netherlands increased by 1.5, Luxembourg by 1.75, Germany by just over 2 points, Portugal and Finland by more than 2.5 points, and Sweden by 3.75 points. The only country that moved considerably in a negative direction was Denmark , which dropped from 1.43 to 0 on account of its lengthening of the residency requirement for both immigrant and spousal naturalization,

30

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

as well as new citizenship and language tests . Austria , Greece , and the United Kingdom also moved in a more restrictive direction, with the former two countries becoming even more fi rmly entrenched in the “historically restrictive” category, while the United Kingdom has become slightly “less liberal” but still fi rmly in the “historically liberal” grouping.22 The nature of the particular changes from the 1980s to the present merits some explanation, as it occurred on all three of the components of citizenship policy. In terms of jus soli, Finland , Germany , Luxembourg , Portugal , and Sweden now incorporate some form of jus soli, representing significant departures from their previous policies and traditions. Several countries also reduced their residency requirements, most notably Germany . And Finland , Luxembourg , the Netherlands , and Sweden have all begun to accept dual citizenship for naturalized immigrants, thus breaking with their previous opposition to dual citizenship. Italy also began to accept dual citizenship, but the liberalization on this factor was counter-balanced by the lengthening of the residency requirement for non-EU citizens, from five to ten years, thus resulting in a smaller change in its overall CPI score. Looking at the changes on aggregate, a comparison of the overall scores from the 1980s to the contemporary period shows that the average score increased from 2.17 in the 1980s to 3.12 in 2008, corresponding to a quite large change on average. In other words, within the EU-15 as a whole, the recent liberalization of citizenship policies is undeniable. And in this sense, it is clear that a relative convergence of citizenship policies has taken place. However, whether this becomes an absolute convergence – in the sense of reaching a single, common policy, as with so many other areas of “institutional harmonization ” within the EU – is still very uncertain and appears unlikely in the foreseeable future.23 Indeed, although the cross-national differences are not nearly as vast as they were a few decades ago, they remain quite wide today. This point is strongly reinforced if one incorporates the policies of the twelve recent “accession” countries, which – as shown in Chapter 8 – have fairly restrictive citizenship policies.

22

23

I should reiterate that the time period in question covers the change from the 1980s to 2008. In other words, this does not preclude that some countries that have liberalized in general over that time span may also have moved in a slightly more restrictive direction over the past few years, especially since the introduction of “civic integration” requirements . Joppke makes this point as well, arguing that proponents of the “convergence ” thesis have overstated their case. See Christian Joppke, “How Immigration Is Changing Citizenship: A Comparative View,” Ethnic and Racial Studies 22, no. 4 (1999): 645.

Citizenship in Cross-National Perspective

31

Table 1.3. Country Groupings Based on Historical Traditions and Recent Changes Grouping

Country

Restrictive continuity (Chapter 4)

Austria Denmark Greece Italy Spain

Liberalizing change (Chapter 5)

Finland Germany (Chapter 6) Luxembourg Netherlands Portugal Sweden

Historically liberal (Chapter 7)

Belgium France Ireland United Kingdom

Putting it all together, Table 1.3 synthesizes the discussion of historical patterns and recent change by showing how the EU-15 countries can be grouped into three particular types. Indeed, this categorization forms the structure of the case studies that constitute the main empirical parts of this book. The fi rst group consists of countries that have displayed “restrictive continuity,” meaning that their historically restrictive citizenship policies have remained impervious to the liberalizing trends of the past decades. These five countries form the basis of Chapter 4, with more detailed analysis of each case individually, along with an explanation for the continuing restrictiveness of their citizenship policies. The six countries in the second group, “liberalizing change,” have all liberalized their citizenship policies considerably since the 1980s, increasing their CPI scores by at least 1.5 points and moving up to either the “medium” or “liberal” category as a result. Chapter 5 focuses on five of these countries, while Chapter 6 tackles Germany , which is probably the most prominent and crucial case among this group. Finally, the historically liberal countries, which by defi nition cannot be considered cases of restrictive continuity or liberalizing change, receive separate treatment in Chapter 7. This is followed by a less detailed examination of the twelve recent accession countries, thus rounding out the comparison among the current EU-27.

32

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

Comparing the CPI with Other Measures Before proceeding to the causal analysis, it is worth verifying that the CPI scores are in fact valid, reliable, and meaningful. As mentioned above, this is not the fi rst study to compare national citizenship policies, and the CPI is not the only measure available. In 1994, Dilek Çinar published a book chapter that examined the legal rules that regulate access to citizenship in Austria, Belgium, France, Germany, the Netherlands, Sweden, Switzerland, and the United Kingdom.24 In comparing the requirements for “discretionary naturalization,” Çinar focused on such factors as residency, language proficiency, integration or assimilation , and renunciation or loss of previous citizenship.25 Patrick Weil’ s 2001 chapter expanded the scope of analysis to twenty-five countries (including the full EU-15), while also distinguishing between the fi rst-generation, spouses, and the second-generation, and also specifying the numerous possible requirements for naturalization.26 Similarly, in volume 1 of the recent NATAC publications, Harald Waldrauch has provided an extremely detailed and focused comparison of the citizenship policies in the EU-15 across four populations of access: birth, naturalization, family-related, and affi nitybased acquisition.27 While these all represent important milestones in the empirical literature on citizenship, none of these studies has assigned point values to any of the criteria, thus making it difficult to capture the relative importance of some criteria as opposed to others, or to reach an overall assessment of the ease or difficulty of acquiring citizenship. Fortunately, two other studies have provided overall country scores, thus allowing us to perform a “reality check” on the accuracy of the CPI scores. The analysis by Koopmans et al. examines “configurations of citizenship” in France, Germany, the Netherlands, the United Kingdom, and Switzerland.28 The larger goal of the study is to determine the similarity or difference among these countries along two dimensions: the fi rst focuses on “equality of individual access” and “cultural differences and 24

25 26 27

28

Dilek Çinar, “From Aliens to Citizens: A Comparative Analysis of Rules of Transition,” in From Aliens to Citizens: Redefi ning the Status of Immigrants in Europe, edited by Rainer Bauböck (Aldershot, U.K.: Avebury, 1994), pp. 49–72. Ibid., pp. 50–53. Weil, “Access to Citizenship.” Harald Waldrauch, “Acquisition of Nationality,” in Bauböck et al., eds., Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, Volume 1, pp. 121–182. Ruud Koopmans, Paul Statham, Marco Giugni, and Florence Passy, Contested Citizenship: Immigration and Cultural Diversity in Europe (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2005).

Citizenship in Cross-National Perspective

33

group rights.”29 The authors develop several sets of indicators, one of which focuses on “nationality acquisition.”30 These include years of residence, welfare dependence, facilitated access for second-generation immigrants, dual citizenship, the absence of special rights for “co-ethnics,” and naturalization rate s. The authors then categorize countries – following what they admit is a “relatively crude” procedure – based on whether they are “ethnic” (receiving a score of -1), “civic-territorial” (scored as 1), or in between (0) on each of the indicators.31 They then code the policies of their five countries at three different points in time – 1980, 1990, and 2002 – which allows them to explore questions of change over time.32 Although there are only four overlapping cases, the Koopmans et al. study provides an important comparative reference for the CPI, at two common points in time. Figure 1.2 presents a scatterplot that shows how the two indices compare, showing both the CPI scores (1980s and 2008, referred to as T1 and T2) on the vertical axis and the Koopmans et al. scores (1990 and 2002, corresponding to T1 and T2) on the x-axis. The figure shows that the four countries are very closely lined up at both time periods, with Germany at the lowest point on both measures (though considerably higher at T2), the Netherlands at an intermediate level (also increasing between T1 and T2), and France and the United Kingdom near the top. Not surprisingly, the two measures are highly correlated, at 0.93. In short, although the comparison is limited to a small subset of countries, it shows clearly that the CPI scores match the fi ndings of other scholars using different methods and measures. The second major study that provides aggregate measures of citizenship policy was released in October 2007 by the Migration Policy Group and the British Council , which significantly revised and improved their “European Civic Citizenship and Inclusion Index” from 2004. The new study was renamed the Migrant Integration Policy Index (“MIPEX”), and it improves 29 30

31 32

Ibid., pp. 31–73. The authors also include a wide array of additional indicators that go beyond the realm of citizenship policy as conceived in this book, including “citizenship rights for foreign nationals” and “antidiscrimination rights,” which are also part of their fi rst dimension. And they consider indicators of “cultural requirements for naturalization,” “allowances for (Islamic) religious practices outside of public institutions,” “cultural rights and provisions in public institutions,” and “political representation rights” as part of their second dimension of citizenship. Ibid., p. 39. Overall, the book by Koopmans et al. represents a major contribution to the comparative study of citizenship, combining a careful and systematic methodology with an emphasis on explaining cross-national variation and change.

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

34

6 U.K. (T1) France (T2)

Citizenship Policy Index

5

U.K. (T2) Netherlands (T2)

4

France (T1)

3

Netherlands (T1) Germany (T2)

2

1 Germany (T1) 0 –1.0

–0.5

0.0

0.5

1.0

Koopmans et al. “nationality acquisition”

Figure 1.2. Comparing the CPI to Koopmans et al.’s measures. Note: T1 refers to the CPI in the 1980s and Koopmans et al.’s 1990 score; T2 captures the CPI in 2008 and Koopmans et al. in 2002. Case selection is limited to the four EU countries included in the Koopmans et al. study.

on the earlier version by extending beyond the EU-15 to include most of the recent accession countries , as well as the United States and Canada .33 MIPEX provides scores for six different sets of measures (each with multiple indicators): labor market status, family reunion, long term residence, political participation, access to nationality, and anti-discrimination. Each indicator receives a score of either 1 (most restrictive), 2 (medium), or 3 (most conducive to immigrant integration ). Although usually based on actual policies and data, the scoring process is rather subjective. The measure of “access to nationality” consists of four dimensions: eligibility for access to nationality, conditions for access, security of status, and dual nationality. Each of these is then broken down into specific indicators for fi rst-, second-, and third-generation immigrants, and spouses, as well as a detailed list of possible requirements for both naturalization and dual citizenship. MIPEX represents by far the most ambitious and detailed catalog of citizenship polices across a very wide range of countries. While 33

Migration Policy Group and British Council, “Migrant Integration Policy Index,” available at http://www.integrationindex.eu (accessed May 24, 2009).

Citizenship in Cross-National Perspective

35

6

Sweden France

Citizenship Policy Index in 2008

5

Ireland

Finland

4

Belgium

U.K.

Portugal

Netherlands

3 Germany

2 Italy

Luxembourg Spain

Greece

1

Austria

Denmark

0 20

30

40 50 60 MIPEX “access to nationality” (2006)

70

80

Figure 1.3. Comparing the CPI in 2008 to MIPEX 2006.

certainly laudable and important, the study remains somewhat limited by the often unclear reasons for coding countries as a 3, 2, or 1. Nonetheless, the MIPEX allows for a further test of the accuracy of the CPI, since both studies include the full set of countries in the EU-15. Figure 1.3 presents a final scatterplot, showing once again the 2008 CPI score on the vertical axis, and this time the MIPEX score on the x-axis. It shows a remarkably tight fit between the two indices, which are correlated at 0.91. The two indices are certainly not identical, of course, as some countries (Denmark , Spain , Luxembourg , and Portugal ) have slightly higher scores on MIPEX, and others (Finland , the Netherlands , and France ) are slightly higher on the CPI. But even those countries are quite close to the regression line on the scatterplot, and the majority of countries are either on or right next to that line, without any real outliers. As with the comparison to the Koopmans et al. study, Figure 1.3 provides strong support for the validity and reliability of the CPI.

Conclusion The empirical analysis in this chapter has helped to provide a clear, systematic, and accurate measure of national citizenship policies in the countries

36

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

of the EU-15. Starting with a sensitive coding of different features of a country’s policies and practices on jus soli, naturalization requirements, and immigrant dual citizenship – and applying the measure to two different time periods – the Citizenship Policy Index thereby allows us to compare countries on several different dimensions. And by moving from detailed listings of the individual laws and features to a broader aggregation that characterizes each country’s policy overall, we can thereby enable a comprehensive assessment of the relative inclusiveness of the citizenship policies of the EU-15, both in the 1980s and today. Having accomplished the task of describing the citizenship policies of the EU-15, we can now turn to a more causal analysis. Indeed, the empirical baseline provided in this chapter leaves us with two “puzzles” or questions that need to be explained. First, what accounts for the historical variation in citizenship policies across the EU-15? And second, what explains why, in recent years, some countries have liberalized quite considerably, while others have not? Throughout the rest of the book, I attempt to develop and present coherent and convincing answers to these questions, but only after considering and evaluating plausible alternative explanations. Chapter 2 takes on the first puzzle, developing an argument about the distinct national experiences of colonization and democratization. The rest of the book focuses on the second puzzle, emphasizing the importance of the politics of citizenship, and developing the paradoxical finding that nondemocratic elitist decision making often leads to increasing liberalization, while greater public mobilization usually results in continued or increased restrictiveness.

2 Historical Variation and Legacies The Impact of Colonialism and Early Democratization

Introduction Before explaining the relative change in citizenship policies over the past several decades – which is the purpose of the rest of the book – we must fi rst account for the existence of historical variation. Indeed, as discussed in Chapter 1, although obviously some legal tinkering took place between the early twentieth century and the 1980s, for the most part the laws in the latter time period remained fundamentally similar, and in many cases completely unchanged. This chapter therefore takes a step back and attempts to explain the historical variation in citizenship policies across the area that eventually became the EU-15. In other words, this chapter investigates the reasons for the wide empirical disparities shown in Table 1.1, where seven countries could be characterized as restrictive, four as medium, and only four (Belgium , France , Ireland , and the United Kingdom ) as historically liberal. In this chapter, I develop two main arguments, and I then show how they help to explain the trajectories taken by each country. First, I focus on colonialism, arguing that former large-scale colonial powers were more likely to develop relations – even if exploitative and unjust – with the outside world, and thereby to create more open historical policies on both immigration and citizenship. Second, I examine the onset of democratization , and I argue that countries that democratized during the nineteenth century were more likely to develop a civic conception of national identity , thereby tolerating – even if reluctantly – the inclusion of foreigners as members of their societies. The two factors are overlapping, since most early democratizers were also colonial powers (though not all colonial powers were democratic). And they work together, since the presence of 37

38

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

one without the other was not sufficient to make a country historically liberal. The chapter proceeds as follows. In the next two sections, I develop my argument in more detail, spelling out the logic of each of my two causal factors, and showing how the two factors work together. Then I briefly address alternative explanations, considering whether historical variation is related to such factors as a country’s territorial or population size, or the performance of its economy. Finally, I map out the theoretical arguments to the empirical evidence, which demonstrates the strong impact of colonialism and early democratization on the historical variation in citizenship policies.

The Argument, Part I: The Impact of Colonialism Colonialism was a powerful chapter in European history, exhibiting longlasting and wide-ranging implications in many areas – from economic development to security to culture – and it was especially influential in the domain of migration. But what, if any, was its effect on the national citizenship policies of the countries of Europe? This section argues that major colonial powers developed enduring though changing relationships with the societies and peoples that they conquered and exploited. And, perhaps ironically, even though large-scale colonialism was a practice that could hardly be associated with open and inclusive principles, its complex legacy is nonetheless a more liberal mechanism for incorporating people from former colonies as citizens. Before explaining the logic of this argument more explicitly, we first need to identify which countries constituted “major colonial powers.” The colonialism literature largely classifies colonial rule as direct and indirect, 1 capturing the extent to which national institutions were run by colonial officials or native elites, respectively. While the type of colonial rule certainly matters for studying postcolonial development, including the differences in immigrant integration strategies among former colonizer countries,2 what matters for my argument is whether a country was a major colonial power. And while the fi rst wave of colonialism, which ended around 1700, set an important precedent, the relevant time period for this study is the second 1

2

Michael W. Doyle, Empires (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1986); Michael H. Fischer, Indirect Rule in India: Residents and the Residency System, 1764–1858 (Delhi: Oxford University Press, 1991). Erik Bleich, “The Legacies of History? Colonization and Immigrant Integration in Britain and France,” Theory and Society 34, no. 2 (2005): 171–195.

Historical Variation and Legacies

39

wave of colonial expansion, which began in 1815 and lasted through the century.3 In terms of distinguishing between European countries on the relative scale or weight of their empire, the most useful way of classifying colonial powers is based on the extent of resources in their possession. Steward Easton , for example, distinguishes large and small colonial powers based on their economic and military strength.4 However, for the purposes of this analysis, Mary Townsend’s categorization is the most clear and useful.5 Based on the “unequal distribution of area, population and resources,” Townsend provides the evocative labels “the Haves, the Have-Beens and the Have-Nots” to distinguish between the countries that had colonies.6 The “Haves” consist of the United Kingdom , France , Belgium , and the Netherlands (in decreasing order of magnitude), which controlled vast, diverse, and economically desirable areas as their colonies. The “HaveBeens,” Portugal and Spain , “displayed only the remnants of their past glory,” with vast size but few important resources.7 Finally, the “HaveNots” are Italy and Germany , who were preoccupied with internal unification at the time when the other powers were expanding their empires, and therefore “got off to a late start in the recent colonial race and discovered that all the best and most desirable areas had been occupied.”8 While all three parts of this typology of colonialism are useful, as shown in the empirical analysis later in the chapter, the key distinction is between the four major colonial powers – the “Haves” – and the others. Having established a basic typology and measurement of colonialism, we can now turn to the connection between colonialism and citizenship. Although it had multiple purposes and consequences, in its early phases the colonial system helped European colonial powers to frame their own defi nition of national belonging by clearly distinguishing its members from the “Other” (the colonial subjects). As Linda Colley explains in her tracing of the development of “Britishness,” “Once confronted with an obviously alien ‘them,’ an otherwise diverse community can become a reassuring or

3

4

5

6 7 8

D. K. Fieldhouse, The Colonial Empires: A Comparative Survey from the Eighteenth Century (New York: Delacorte Press, 1967), p. 178. Steward C. Easton, The Rise and Fall of Western Colonialism (New York: Frederick A. Praeger, 1964). Mary Evelyn Townsend, European Colonial Expansion since 1871 (Chicago: J. B. Lippincott, 1941). Ibid., p. 15. Ibid., p. 18. Ibid. Townsend also includes Japan in the category of “Have-Nots.”

40

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

merely desperate ‘us.’”9 In fact, the challenge of identifying “otherness” can be viewed as the very purpose underscoring the institution of citizenship as a mechanism of differentiation . National projects were centered on unifying concepts of culture and language, and “the anthropological concept of culture might never have been invented without a colonial theater.”10 And even though migratory movement within Europe was an important factor shaping immigration policy in the nineteenth century, it was the sheer exposure through colonialism that proved crucial in fomenting European national identities and, eventually, paving the way for more open avenues to citizenship. Nevertheless, much of the historical literature on colonialism tells a materialist story, and it can be shocking to the modern sensibility to discover just how instrumental the settlement and expansion of European empires were, negotiating land claims without regard to their impact on local people, groups, or cultures. This was more than a willful neglect of cultural knowledge. Indeed, the logic behind early colonialism was natural resource and labor exploitation, and a prominent strategy of early colonial rule was, of course, slavery. Yet the process of abolishing this utterly cruel and inhuman system, which lasted until the beginning of the nineteenth century, also helped to transform colonialism from an economic exercise to a cultural guardianship.11 It opened up ideas about the rights of man, alongside the evolution of liberal thought, and the interesting and paradoxical justifications for imperial expansion among European intellectuals – most notably J. S. Mill , Burke , and Tocqueville – was in delivering inherent rights to the colonized.12 The transition from bald-faced economic exploitation to a “civilizing mission” (to use the French expression) required fi rst acknowledging that local traditions and culture mattered to successful colonial administration. This realization informed the creation of “native policies” by the colonial powers, which the British initially described as “improvement” or “betterment,” and eventually as “moral and material progress.”13 9

10

11

12

13

Linda Colley, Britons: Forging the Nation, 1707–1837 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1992), p. 6. Nicholas B. Dirks, ed., Colonialism and Culture (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan, 1992), p. 3. See Raymond F. Betts, The False Dawn: European Imperialism in the Nineteenth Century (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1975), pp. 150–183. Jennifer Pitts, Turn to Empire: The Rise of Imperial Liberalism in Britain and France (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2005), pp. 4–5. Michael Mann, “‘Torchbearers upon the Path of Progress’: Britain’s Ideology of a ‘Moral and Material Progress’ in India,” in Colonialism as Civilizing Mission: Cultural Ideology

Historical Variation and Legacies

41

In France, la mission civilisatrice became a centerpiece of colonial rule during the Third Republic.14 In the French case, the initial application of the “civilizing mission” was tied to the doctrine of assimilation. Before the colonized people could naturalize as Frenchmen, thus “freeing themselves from specific forms of tyranny,”15 they needed to become acculturated to the mother country, specifically through language and education.16 Eventually, language knowledge and devotion to France, alongside other requirements, were conditions by which some African subjects could become French citizens.17 Much later, as a “recognition of aid rendered in the fi rst World War by native populations,”18 the tradition of assimilation gradually gave way to that of association, whereby people did not necessarily have to give up their native culture in addition to assuming the French civilisation.19 The other European colonial powers did not have such an explicit policy for transforming colonial subjects into citizens. In fact, it is doubtful that they would ever have considered it possible or desirable. Yet the British shared a desire to free their subjects from “Oriental despotism”20 and to “work through indigenous customs and institutions.”21 Unlike the British and French, the Dutch never believed they had a civilizing mission. As Fieldhouse explains, “They took it as self-evident that Indonesia ns were different, but not necessarily inferior. They made no serious attempt to spread Christianity, the Dutch language or European culture.”22 And Belgium , a

14

15 16

17 18 19

20 21 22

in British India, edited by Harold Fischer-Tiné and Michael Mann (London: Wimbledon, 2006), p. 4. Moreover, Mann writes that “the most powerful tool for self-legitimation was the colonizer’s claim to improve the country and to bring the fruits of progress and modernity to the subject peoples” (p. 5). Alice L. Conklin, A Mission to Civilize: The Republican Idea of Empire in France and West Africa, 1895–1930 (Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1997). Ibid., pp. 5–6. It is ironic that in nineteenth century France, “the question of how the existence of the colonies could be reconciled with the revolutionary principles of liberty and equality was resolved, not by granting the colonized political autonomy or even independence, but by encouraging integration and assimilation .” Edwige Liliane Lefebvre , “Republicanism and Universalism: Factors of Inclusion or Exclusion in the French Concept of Citizenship,” Citizenship Studies 7, no. 1 (2003): 31. Conklin, A Mission to Civilize, p. 103. Townsend, European Colonial Expansion since 1871, p. 185. See Patricia M. E. Lorcin, Imperial Identities: Stereotyping, Prejudice, and Race in Colonial Algeria (London: I. B. Tauris, 1995), pp. 7–8; Raymond F. Betts, Assimilation and Association in French Colonial Theory, 1890–1914 (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2005). Mann, “‘Torchbearers upon the Path of Progress,’ ” p. 5. Betts, The False Dawn, p. 169. Fieldhouse, The Colonial Empires, pp. 327–328.

42

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

relative latecomer to colonialism when King Leopold II acquired land in the Congo in the 1870s, maintained control over the Congo “Free State” as Leopold’s private estate, which he ruthlessly exploited with little mutual engagement.23 Nonetheless, despite the different intentions, the similar interactions between the major colonial empires and their overseas territories not only imposed enduring – and largely negative, of course – changes upon the colonized, but they also left indelible marks on the colonizers. Through the failures of slavery and the acknowledgment that native cultures matter – even if to influence or subvert through civilizing missions – the increased presence and attention paid to administering, instead of exploiting, the colonies called into question reigning frames of references. As Alice Conklin writes, “French assumptions about the ability of Africans to evolve, and of France to civilize them, were contested and periodically reshaped.”24 In the British case, colonial subjects would enjoy a status whereby, until 1962, every person living under the Union Jack had the right to emigrate to Great Britain.25 The other major colonial powers also developed long-lasting and complex ties to the people they had once conquered and ruled. In short, my argument about colonialism emphasizes the unintentional way in which colonizers slowly began to humanize their subjects, who went from being the antithesis or “Other” against which the colonial powers’ own identities were initially solidified to actually sharing in that identity to some extent. As Christian Joppke writes, colonialism created “space for movement of, and ethnic mixing between, the members of the respective political societies.”26 While racism and exploitation continued to remain dominant themes in this relationship, nonetheless the colonial powers became increasingly exposed to different groups of people, and thereby to at least some diversity – certainly more than other countries that had no such interactions – and this gradually created more openness in both national identity and institutions. Yet colonialism accounts for only part of the argument. The next section turns to the second critical factor that should help to account for more liberal citizenship outcomes. 23

24 25

26

Barbara Emerson, Leopold II of the Belgians: King of Colonialism (London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1979). Conklin, A Mission to Civilize, p. 5 See Randall Hansen, Citizenship and Immigration in Post-War Britain: The Institutional Origins of a Multicultural Nation (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000). Christian Joppke, Selecting by Origin: Ethnic Migration in the Liberal State (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2005), p. 93.

Historical Variation and Legacies

43

The Argument, Part II: The Impact of Early Democratization Alongside the tides of colonization and industrialization, the midnineteenth century witnessed the establishment of democratic institutions and practices in several European countries. Democracy is generally defi ned by the extent to which a political regime provides a combination of procedures for contestation and inclusiveness.27 In other words, in a democratic state leaders who were elected in free and fair contests determine policy, and a sizable population of adults can vote. While the mid- to late nineteenth century certainly had its share of excluded populations, especially women, democracy gradually took hold across Europe. But not all European countries democratized at the same time. I argue in this section that the experience of early democratization, relative to the rest of Europe, enabled the establishment of a civic concept of inclusion that translated into, and reinforced, liberal citizenship laws. This type of argument has received attention by political theorists, who have examined the link between constitutional democracy and civic nations28 and debated the fate of civic, liberal, and multicultural nationalism.29 Although scholars have certainly explored many aspects relating to the connection between democratization and nationalism,30 the historical and cumulative effects of democratization on citizenship has received relatively little attention to date. In this context, the important question about democratization is not whether a country eventually democratized, since all of Europe reached

27

28

29

30

Robert A. Dahl, Polyarchy: Participation and Opposition (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1971). Donald Ipperciel, “Constitutional Democracy and Civic Nationalism,” Nations and Nationalism 13, no. 3 (2007): 395–416; Jürgen Habermas, “On the Relation Between the Nation, the Rule of Law and Democracy,” in The Inclusion of the Other, edited by Ciaran Cronin and Pablo DeGreiff (Cambridge: MIT Press, 1998), pp. 129–154. Evan Charney, “Identity and Liberal Nationalism,” American Political Science Review 97, no. 2 (2003): 295–310; Alain-G. Gagnon and James Tully, eds., Multinational Democracies (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001); Will Kymlicka, “Multicultural Odysseys,” Ethnopolitics 6, no. 4 (2007): 585–597; Geoffrey Brahm Levey, “Liberal Nationalism and Cultural Rights,” Political Studies 49, no. 4 (2001): 670–691; and Yael Tamir, Liberal Nationalism: Studies in Moral, Political, and Legal Philosophy (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1993). See, e.g., Ernest Gellner, Nations and Nationalism (Oxford: Blackwell, 1983); Leah Greenfeld, Nationalism: Five Roads to Modernity (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1992); Anthony D. Smith, Nationalism and Modernism (London: Routledge, 1998); Jack L. Snyder, From Voting to Violence: Democratization and Nationalist Confl ict (New York: Norton, 2000); Charles Tilly, The Formation of National States in Western Europe (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1975).

44

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

that point after World War II, and most had after World War I. Rather, the timing of democratization is crucial, since the intellectual, political, and economic context of the nineteenth century was very different from that of the fi rst half of the twentieth century. In some countries, rapid industrialization and the popularization of liberal thought led to undeniable social and political progress in terms of setting up constitutional regimes, extending suffrage, and establishing individual freedoms. As T. H. Marshall wrote in his seminal contribution on citizenship and social rights : The formative period [for political rights] began in the early nineteenth century, when the civil rights attached to the status of freedom had already acquired sufficient substance to justify us in speaking of a general status of citizenship. And, when it began, it consisted, not in the creation of new rights to enrich a status already enjoyed by all, but in the granting of old rights to new sections of the population. In the eighteenth century political rights were defective, not in content, but in distribution – defective, that is to say, by the standards of democratic citizenship.31

These new ideas and institutions resulted in a representative system of government in France, parliamentarism in England , a liberal constitution for Belgium after it broke away from the Netherlands, and an attempt at modern democracy in Greece. Why did democratization in this time period promote civic and inclusive citizenship? The early democratizers in northwestern Europe – Greece is another story – benefited from the combination of an influential current of liberal thinkers and a relatively stable political climate, which allowed for a more inclusive practice with regard to colonial subjects. Moreover, their institutions received – and largely passed – an early test by withstanding the inclusion of domestic minority populations, especially Jew s. Although I have addressed the role of liberalism above, one should consider the distinction between liberalism as a philosophy and democracy as a political regime. In Britain, France, and Belgium, strong intellectual voices promoted liberalism, while at the same time taking a seemingly paradoxical view in support of colonial expansion. But what mattered was not just the ideas of individual freedoms, but the institutionalization of the formal channels to express these rights . While theories of liberalism put ideas of personal autonomy and anti-absolutist rule on the table in the seventeenth century, democracy actually turned those rights into law. In the Netherlands, in contrast, even though “early liberalism … had fi rm 31

T. H. Marshall, Citizenship and Social Class (London: Cambridge University Press, 1950), p. 12.

Historical Variation and Legacies

45

roots,”32 only in 1917 were the cultural dividing lines fi rmly drawn in a new democratic system designed to peacefully organize societal differences.33 In short, the confluence of liberalism in a stable political environment with chiefly democratic institutions provided the optimal setting for promoting a civic national identity . As democracy began to take root in nineteenth century Europe, citizenship was generally reserved for a small percentage of rich, educated adult males. Tomas Hammar even notes that “criticism of [this] existing privilege” was the “best weapon in the struggle for democracy,” and he adds that this push against the exclusionary application of citizenship was not driven by the desire to extend voting rights for foreign citizens, either immigrants or colonial subjects: “Before 1914, there were in most countries few foreigners with long residence and therefore no reason to start a debate about voting rights for denizens .”34 Yet there were domestic ethnic minorities, primarily Jew s, and the early democratizers were more likely to emancipate Jews and to include them in the national fabric. Overall, early democratization allowed countries to create a civic definition of national identity . By establishing popular access to elections – and rights for Jew s and eventually women – decades before large-scale migration came into the picture, states developed a national identity tied to liberal principles. And the stable political environment transformed these identities into durable institutions, eventually withstanding – even if reluctantly – the inclusion of foreigners as members of their societies after the onset of postcolonial migration many decades later. In the empirical analysis below, I measure the concept of “early democratization” by incorporating the Polity dataset’s determination of the year when a country fi rst became democratic.35 The argument of this chapter is that historically liberal countries must have been both major colonial powers and early democratizers. In methodological terms, both factors are necessary, and jointly they are sufficient.36 32

33

34

35 36

Robert van der Laarse, “Bearing the Stamp of History: The Elitist Route to Democracy in the Netherlands,” in European Democratization since 1800, edited by John Garrard, Vera Tolz, and Ralph White (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2000), p. 62. See Arend Lijphart, The Politics of Accommodation: Pluralism and Democracy in the Netherlands (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1975), especially the discussion of “pillarization” on pp. 104–121. Tomas Hammar, Democracy and the Nation State: Aliens, Denizens and Citizens in a World of International Migration (Aldershot: Avebury, 1990), pp. 58–59. This is measured by a score of 6 or higher in the Polity database. Alexander L. George and Andrew Bennett argue that the “most useful kind of assertion of necessity or sufficiency concerns the relationship of a variable to conjunctions of

46

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

While the language of necessary and sufficient conditions is a bit artificial for a discussion that is entirely historical and has no chance of occurring again under even remotely comparable conditions, it does help to highlight how these two factors work together empirically. Having been a colonial power but not having democratized will simply mean that a country developed relations with its former colonies without having a civic institutional context for including them. Conversely, having been an early democratizer without former colonies indicates that the exposure and interaction with “others” never took place. Neither of these situations was likely to result in a historically liberal citizenship policy. Yet, as shown in the empirical analysis below, when both factors were present, countries did establish fi rm and lasting inclusive institutions for integrating immigrants by granting them citizenship.

Alternative Explanations Before evaluating my argument, I need to address several alternative explanations that could conceivably account for historical variations in citizenship policies. Attention to early conditions is important, particularly since path dependence has played a prominent role in explanations of contemporary policy outcomes.37 The nineteenth century in Europe was the “long century,” 38 replete with revolution, innovation, industrialization, colonial expansion, and in some cases democratization. And while several European countries had citizenship traditions dating back to the Middle Ages, the end of the nineteenth century was the most dynamic moment, where a confluence of economic and social forces had the potential to influence notions of national membership. I therefore consider hypotheses from that time period, emphasizing the dynamic structural, demographic, and economic changes taking place. One possible argument has to do with variations in territorial size. The expectation could go in either direction: perhaps larger territories create more strict defi nitions of membership – in the tradition of Roman

37

38

variables that are themselves necessary and/or sufficient for an outcome” in Case Studies and Theory Development in the Social Sciences (Cambridge: MIT Press, 2005), p. 26. For more on necessity and sufficiency, see pp. 189–192. See, e.g., Rogers Brubaker, Citizenship and Nationhood in France and Germany (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1992); and Randall Hansen, Citizenship and Immigration in Post-War Britain: The Institutional Origins of a Multicultural Nation (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000). E. J. Hobsbawm, Industry and Empire: The Making of Modern English Society, 1750 to the Present Day (New York: Pantheon Books, 1968).

Historical Variation and Legacies

47

citizenship – where clear rules define who does and does not have state protection, and smaller states may not require citizenship designations to delineate “insiders” and “outsiders.” On the other hand, larger states may rely on different institutions for the purposes of designation, and smaller states tie citizenship more closely to concepts of community and blood. To test this factor, the analysis below includes a measure of the size of each country’s territory in 1900.39 A second structural hypothesis explores population size. The explanation for liberal citizenship policies under this hypothesis is that larger populations necessitate more accessible or inclusive rules for belonging. Particularly when one takes into account the patterns of emigration and intra-European movement, differences in population size across states might help to explain how the citizenship policies treat newcomers. Another way to get at this factor focuses on changes in population size. If states experience significant population increases, we might expect more accessible orientations through citizenship. I operationalize these concepts by incorporating a measure of population size in 1870, as well as the percentage change in population between 1870 and 1900.40 The fi nal alternative explanation takes an economic view of the turn of the century. Is there a connection between wealthy states and the orientation of citizenship? This factor is difficult to disentangle from other factors, since the wealth of a state at this time period was strongly tied to its rate of industrialization, agricultural production, and role in trade and commerce, all of which were closely linked with whether a country had a colonial empire. But the argument could be that greater national and individual wealth allowed countries to pursue more open employment policies, which in turn led to pressures to incorporate these workers as citizens. In the analysis below, I incorporate a measure of GDP per capita in 1870. 41

Evaluating the Evidence Having presented my argument for the different patterns of historical citizenship, as well as several plausible alternative explanations, this section turns to the empirical evidence. Although fi fteen countries is too small to 39

40

41

The data come from Angelo Heilprin and Louis Heilprin, eds., Lippincott’s New Gazetteer (Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott, 1906). The data come from Angus Maddison, Monitoring the World Economy, 1820–1992 (Paris: Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development, 1995), pp. 104–108. The data are measured in 1990 dollars, so that the measure is consistent across time, and they come from ibid., p. 23.

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

48

(b)

6 5

U.K. Belgium CPI score in the 1980s

CPI score in the 1980s

(a)

France 4 3 2 1

Netherlands Sweden Spain

Portugal Denmark Greece Luxembourg

Italy

Austria Germany

0 0

6

U.K. Belgium

5

Ireland

France

4 Netherlands

3 2

Finland

Portugal Sweden Denmark Austria

1 0

10,000

Size of territory in 1900

(d) U.K. Ireland

Netherlands

3

Sweden Portugal Finland Denmark Spain Italy Austria Luxembourg Germany

2 1

–20

CPI score in the 1980s

Belgium

4

0

(e)

France

CPI score in the 1980s

5

20 40 0 Change in Population from 1870 to 1900

6 5

0

Netherlands Sweden Denmark Greece Austria Luxembourg 0

Portugal Spain Italy Germany 1

U.K. Ireland France

4 3 2 1

Netherlands Portugal Sweden Denmark Finland Spain Italy Austria Germany 1,000

1,500

2,000

(f)

6 5

Type of colonialism

3,000

3,500

U.K. Belgium

3

Ireland

France 4 3

Netherlands

2 Greece 1 0

2

2,500

GDP per capita in 1870

France

1

40,000

Belgium

5

60

4

2

30,000

6

0

U.K. Belgium

3

20,000

Population in 1870

CPI score in the 1980s

CPI score in the 1980s

(c) 6

Italy Germany

Luxembourg 0

50,000 100,000 150,000 200,000 250,000 300,000

Spain

1850

1875

Portugal Sweden Finland Spain Denmark Austria Germany 1900

1925

Italy

1950

First year of democracy (Policy score ≥ 6 or higher)

Figure 2.1. The relationship between country-level factors and historical CPI scores.

conduct multivariate statistical analysis, we can explore the bivariate relationships between each of the variables and the outcome to be explained – the country scores on the Citizenship Policy Index (CPI) from the 1980s, which serves as a proxy for historical citizenship. Figure 2.1 consists of a series of individual scatterplots, illustrating the relationship between each of the variables – starting with the alternative factors – and the historical CPI. The charts also include country labels,

Historical Variation and Legacies

49

as well as the regression line, in order to identify potential outliers and to evaluate the overall fit of each relationship. Most of the alternative hypotheses provide little purchase in explaining historical variations in citizenship policies. There is no consistent relationship – in either direction – between size or territory and historical CPI. In fact, the three42 historically liberal countries span nearly the whole range of territory size. Similarly, there is no discernible pattern in both population size and the change in population from 1870 to 1900. GDP per capita, however, does show a fairly strong connection (with a correlation of 0.63) to the historical CPI scores, as the richer countries – which were generally also colonial powers – tended to develop more liberal citizenship policies. Indeed, it is quite possible that GDP per capita and colonialism work together as causal factors, particularly since they are difficult to disentangle from one another. Turning to the main arguments of this chapter, we see a very tight relationship between colonialism – operationalized according to Townsend’s categories discussed above, with the “Haves” coded 3, the “Have-Beens” 2, the “Have-Nots” 1, and those without any colonies at 0 – and the historical CPI. The two factors are highly correlated at 0.78 (significant at p = 0.001) and the fit line is remarkably accurate. Most importantly, the four major colonial powers also have the four highest historical citizenship scores. Although the Netherlands’ score is a bit lower, leading it to fall in the “medium” category, this is certainly not because of its colonial past. In terms of the second part of the argument, we see another strong relationship – even if not quite as powerful – between early democratization and historical citizenship, with a correlation of -0.57 between the fi rst year of democracy (as measured by Polity) and the historical CPI score. The chart shows that of the four early democratizers, Belgium , France , and the United Kingdom all have the highest CPI scores, whereas Greece (which did not have a colonial past) is an outlier. Putting the two parts of the argument together, Figure 2.2 combines them into a single figure that distinguishes between early and late democratizers, as well as major, minor, and noncolonial powers. The figure shows very clearly that the countries that were both major colonial powers and 42

Note that Ireland is not included on the chart since it did not become independent until 1922, though of course it was part of the United Kingdom and its liberal citizenship tradition. For an overview of the history of Irish citizenship, which shows the particular closeness with British citizenship law, see Clive R. Symmons , “Irish Nationality Law,” in Towards a European Nationality: Citizenship, Immigration, and Nationality Law in the EU, edited by Randall Hansen and Patrick Weil (New York: Palgrave, 2001).

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

50

Major Colonial Power? Yes

No

Yes

Belgium France

Greece

U.K.

Austria Denmark Germany Italy No

Early Democratizer?

(Ireland)

Netherlands

Luxembourg Spain Portugal Sweden (Finland)

Figure 2.2. What explains different historical patterns of citizenship laws? Note: The colonialism distinctions come from Townsend (1941); the early democratization data comes from Polity IV, with the countries distinguished based on whether they were classified as democratic before 1900. Darker shadings indicate higher (more liberal) CPI scores.

early democratizers eventually constituted the historically liberal category. The Netherlands, which was a major colonial power but not an early democratizer, remains in the medium category (though not far off from the liberal countries). Greece , which was an early democratizer but not a colonizer, remained one of the historically restrictive countries. And the other countries, which were neither major colonial powers nor early democratizers, all cohered in the restrictive or medium categories of the historical CPI. In other words, the arguments above are well supported by the available evidence.

Conclusion Overall, the analysis of this chapter shows that the historical experience of individual countries – in terms of both their past experience as a colonial power and the onset of democratization – corresponds quite closely with their historical citizenship policies. Countries that were both major colonial powers and early democratizers developed a relationship with the outside

Historical Variation and Legacies

51

world and its peoples, while simultaneously institutionalizing a framework for civic belonging and integration . And even though the intention was not necessarily to welcome and accept foreigners in their midst, the consequence was a policy on national membership that was considerably more inclusive than in neighboring countries in Europe that had quite different historical experiences with colonialism and democratization. These arguments help us to understand the fi rst puzzle articulated in Chapter 1, to explain historical variation in national citizenship policies. But we are still left with the second puzzle. Indeed, the historically nonliberal countries have not remained static since the 1980s. Some of them have modified their citizenship policies considerably over the past decades, while others have not. The purpose of Chapter 3 is to begin to explore and explain this more recent variation and change, which will then be elaborated on in the case studies in Part II of the book.

3 Continuity and Change in the Contemporary Period The Impact of Public Mobilization

Introduction Having addressed the causes of historical variation in the citizenship policies of the EU-15, the rest of the book explores the question of continuity and change over the past several decades. And whereas the chapters in Part II of the book examine individual cases in considerable detail, the purpose of this chapter – the fi nal chapter of Part I – is to evaluate competing theoretical arguments that could conceivably account for why certain countries have liberalized their citizenship policies, whereas others have not. In doing so, I focus on the eleven countries within the EU-15 whose citizenship policies in the 1980s put them in either the “restrictive” or “medium” categories, as introduced in Chapter 1. In other words, the “historically liberal” countries of Belgium , France , Ireland , and the United Kingdom are excluded from the analysis in this chapter, for the very simple reason that since their citizenship policies were already liberal, the question of liberalization does not apply to them in the same way.1 The analytic question at the heart of this chapter is to explain why six of the eleven relevant countries (Finland , Germany , Luxembourg , the Netherlands , Portugal , and Sweden ) liberalized their citizenship policies, whereas five of them (Austria , Denmark , Greece , Italy , and Spain ) did not. To address the question, I develop my main argument, which emphasizes the politics of citizenship.2 This political explanation stresses 1 2

Note, however, that these countries receive detailed attention in Chapter 7. For two recent and excellent studies that focus on the politics of immigration, see Anthony M. Messina, The Logics and Politics of Post-WWII Migration to Western Europe (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), and Martin Schain, The Politics of Immigration in France, Britain, and the United States: A Comparative Study (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008).

52

Contemporary Continuity and Change

53

not only whether parties of the left or the right have been in power, but also the extent to which the issue of citizenship became a contentious and politicized issue that received wider public debate and mobilization. I then consider arguments and hypotheses – adapted from the broader literature on comparative immigration – that emphasize economic and socio-economic factors (GDP per capita, economic growth, and unemployment ), demographics (the number and percentage of immigrants), and public opinion (using two different survey measures of anti-immigrant sentiment). After presenting all of the arguments and highlighting the existing variation on each factor in the eleven countries, I turn to an empirical analysis that evaluates the bivariate relationships between each of the hypotheses and citizenship liberalization. The results show that the alternative factors do not work out empirically, but the association between the political factors and citizenship liberalization is very strong. In short, while citizenship liberalization is more likely to occur when the left is in power, the most important factor is the relative strength of far right parties , which can serve to mobilize latent anti-immigrant public opinion, and thereby trump the pressures for liberalization. Although this cross-national analysis remains limited to fairly rigid measures on a common set of factors, it helps to show the broad patterns involved and to explain why some of the restrictive countries liberalized, while others remained restrictive. It also helps to set up the case study chapters in Part II , which flesh out these theoretical arguments and empirical fi ndings in greater detail for each country.

The Argument: The Politics of Citizenship Why have some countries liberalized, while others have resisted the pressures of liberalization and remained quite restrictive? Can one identify common patterns that apply across countries, despite the national idiosyncrasies that inevitably apply to policymaking? In each case, the decisive actors who actually determine citizenship policy are, of course, domestic political elites and political parties, but they do not act without constraints. What, then, are the factors that have influenced them, and how have they functioned? To address these important questions, I introduce a perspective that I call the politics of citizenship. I seek to understand how political actors have navigated the potentially treacherous waters of this volatile issue, how they have dealt with the various pressures for both liberalization and

54

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

restrictiveness, and how they have attempted to implement their choices into new laws and policies. Although it is certainly possible that lack of change simply represents a form of institutional inertia – where the old policies continue to persist simply because they already existed – I argue that elites have pursued conscious strategies and fought open battles, and that these contingent political factors were decisive in shaping citizenship policy change. Since the social science literature on comparative citizenship is still quite recent, there exist few “off the shelf” theories, hypotheses, and measures that can readily be incorporated into empirical analysis. Instead, one can look to the related and more long-standing literature on immigration to find arguments that have been used to explain policy change. As it turns out, the immigration field is much stronger on providing theoretical reasons for liberalization than for restrictiveness. Indeed, several arguments have been developed to explain increasing liberalization, with some emphasizing global causes and others stressing domestic factors. On the global level, scholars have stressed economic globalization,3 neo-functional economic cooperation,4 and new norms of “postnational” human rights 5 to explain liberalization. And on the domestic level, scholars have considered interest group politics, whereby organized groups and businesses often exert influence quietly on policymakers to expand immigration,6 or domestic courts and the judicial system in general, which have often sided with immigrants, thereby putting added pressure on political elites to adjust the policies themselves.7 Despite the quite different points of emphasis, each of these arguments has the expectation of increasing liberalization across the countries of the EU. Indeed, scholars have usually applied them with a broad sweep meant to apply to the entire advanced industrialized world, rather than as a differentiated source of variation between countries. In other words, according to these arguments, the entire region of Europe should have liberalized.

3

4

5

6

7

See Saskia Sassen, Losing Control? Sovereignty in an Age of Globalization (New York: Columbia University Press, 1996), and Saskia Sassen, “The De Facto Transnationalizing of Immigration Policy,” in Challenge to the Nation-State: Immigration in Western Europe and the United States, edited by Christian Joppke (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998). See Alan Butt Philip, “European Union Immigration Policy: Phantom, Fantasy, or Fact,” West European Politics 17, no. 2 (1994): 168–191. See Yasemin Nuhoglu Soysal, Limits of Citizenship: Migrants and Postnational Membership in Europe (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994). See Gary P. Freeman, “Migration Policy and Politics in the Receiving States,” International Migration Review 26, no. 4 (1992): 1144–1167. See Christian Joppke, “Why Liberal States Accept Unwanted Immigration,” World Politics 50, no. 2 (1998): 266–293.

Contemporary Continuity and Change

55

In some sense, the empirical base line presented in Chapter 1 provides support for these arguments, since most of the countries that changed became more liberal in their attribution of citizenship. But these arguments do not help us account for the countries that did not liberalize. What can explain the lack of liberalization in some countries? This perspective has been less explored in a literature that primarily focuses on (and predicts) liberalization.8 While these latent liberalizing pressures are certainly real and influential, they in fact tell only part of the story. For on the other side lies an important latent pressure for restrictiveness: public opinion. Indeed, a common and perhaps “unifying” feature throughout the EU is the strong hostility to immigrants on the part of many, if not most, Europeans. For example, Figure 3.1 presents the data on the eleven relevant countries9 from a 2000 Eurobarometer survey, which included the following five anti-immigrant statements, with which respondents could either “tend to agree” or “tend to disagree”: •

•

•

•

•

The presence of people from these minority groups is a cause of insecurity. The presence of people from these minority groups increases unemployment. There is a limit to how many people of other races, religions, or cultures a society can accept. [Our country] has reached its limits; if there were to be more people belonging to these minority groups, we would have problems. People belonging to these minority groups are so different, they can never be fully accepted members of [nationality] society.

The figure shows the average percentage of respondents who “tend to agree” with each statement. Although the figure is packed with detailed information, the key overall point is that – with only a few exceptions – large numbers, and in most cases majorities, of citizens of these countries agree with these very harsh statements.10 To present these complex findings

8

9

10

For one important exception, see Jeannette Money , Fences and Neighbors: The Political Geography of Immigration Control (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1999). Note that I am still excluding the four historically liberal countries, both because this chapter focuses on liberalization and because the figure is already very dense. But the results for Belgium, France, Ireland, and the United Kingdom are not at all different from the other EU countries in terms of their high levels of anti-immigrant sentiment. And it is safe to say that when respondents are considering “immigrants” or “minority groups,” they are not thinking of people from a neighboring EU country who look

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

56 Sweden Spain Portugal Netherlands Luxembourg Italy Greece Germany Finland Denmark Austria 0

10

20

30

40

50

60

70

80

Can never be fully accepted

Increases unemployment

Country has reached its limits

Cause of insecurity

90

Limit to what society can accept Percentage of respondents who “tend to agree” with each statement

Figure 3.1. Agreement with five anti-immigrant statements. Source: Eurobarometer 53 (2000).

Greece Germany Netherlands Luxembourg Austria Portugal Denmark Italy Sweden Spain Finland 50 60 70 80 0 10 20 30 40 Average percentage of respondents who “tend to agree” with the statements

Figure 3.2. Average agreement rate with five anti-immigrant statements. Source: Eurobarometer 53 (2000).

Contemporary Continuity and Change

57

in a more straightforward way, Figure 3.2 combines them into an overall average score. Since there are many different ways of measuring such a complex concept as anti-immigrant xenophobia, we can now consider a different measure, this time based on data from the 2002 European Social Survey (ESS) . It draws on the six-item index created by John Sides and Jack Citrin about the “perceived consequences of immigrants.”11 The ESS survey included the following questions: Would you say that people who come to live here generally take jobs away from workers in [country], or generally help to create new jobs? Most people who come to live here work and pay taxes. They also use health and welfare services. On balance, do you think people who come here take out more than they put in or put in more than they take out? Would you say it is generally bad or good for [country]’s economy that people come to live here from other countries? Would you say that [country]’s cultural life is generally undermined or enriched by people coming to live here from other countries? Is [country] made a worse or a better place to live by people coming to live here from other countries? Are [country]’s crime problems made worse or better by people coming to live here from other countries? Sides and Citrin then created an overall index, which they scaled from 0 to 1, with lower scores representing higher levels of anti-immigrant sentiment. Figure 3.3 presents the average scores for each country. When comparing Figures 3.2 and 3.3, some clear similarities emerge. Greece and Germany stand out on the high end, while Sweden and Finland are on the low end, in both figures. But there are also some differences, as Luxembourg and Spain appear as both high and low on the anti-immigrant scales.12 What is particularly noteworthy about the two figures is that while the scores are certainly not uniform or identical across countries, the variation is fairly limited. Anti-immigrant sentiment seems to be consistently high throughout the region, an observation that is particularly apparent

11

12

just like them. They are clearly referring to darker-skinned, culturally different, and less “desirable” immigrants. John Sides and Jack Citrin, “European Opinion about Immigration: The Role of Identities, Interests and Information,” British Journal of Political Science 37, no. 3 (2007): 483. And the two indices are only correlated at 0.36 (not significant).

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

58 Greece Portugal Germany Netherlands Italy Spain Austria Denmark Finland Luxembourg Sweden

0.00 0.10 0.20 0.30 0.40 0.50 0.60 0.70 Citrin and Sides (2007) scale of anti-immigrant sentiment (higher values represent greater hostility to immigrants)

Figure 3.3. Perceived consequences of immigrants. Source: 2002 European Social Survey.

given that only two countries have less than 50 percent agreement (and only barely so) with the five very strongly anti-immigrant statements from the Eurobarometer survey. In short, these figures show us that throughout the countries of the EU, most people do not feel positively about immigrants, and they certainly do not appear to support the expansion or extension of rights to immigrants. As a result, it seems clear that – in contrast to the latent pressures for liberalization identified above – anti-immigrant public opinion serves as a latent pressure for restrictiveness. The question, of course, is whether – or, more precisely, where – it has an influence. For if political outcomes were a direct implementation of the popular will, liberalization would not have occurred in most countries, if at all. Indeed, as Douglas Massey writes, “Most citizens … are poorly organized and politically apathetic, leaving immigration policies to be determined quietly by well-fi nanced and better-organized special interests operating through bureaucratic channels.”13 On the other hand, if public opinion were entirely irrelevant, liberalization might have already occurred everywhere, since the liberalizing pressures are often more direct and better organized.14 The key question, therefore, is how political 13

14

See Douglas Massey, “International Migration at the Dawn of the Twenty-First Century: The Role of the State,” Population and Development Review 25, no. 2 (1999): 313. Also see the arguments in Wayne A. Cornelius , Takeyuki Tsuda , Philip L. Martin , and James F. Hollifield , eds., Controlling Immigration: A Global Perspective, 2nd ed. (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2004).

Contemporary Continuity and Change

59

decision makers in individual countries respond to the common pressures of liberalization and restrictiveness in order to implement policy. Figures 3.4 and 3.5 attempt to answer this question and to provide a crystallization of my argument about the politics of citizenship. Figure 3.4 recaps the various latent pressures on each side, showing that the increasing demographic change within Europe, the rise of new international norms, the long-standing impact of interest groups, and the role of the courts all provide pressures on political decision makers to liberalize their citizenship policies. On the other side, of course, public opinion remains staunchly and consistently anti-immigrant. So far this explains only pressures that are latent; in other words, they are in the background without necessarily being active or dominant. But is there a mechanism through which we can determine which types of pressures lead to which outcomes? Figure 3.5 presents my two-part political model for explaining why citizenship liberalization does or does not occur. Part 1 draws on Christian Joppke’s argument about the distinctive politics of center-left and centerright governments on citizenship issues. As Joppke shows, leftist governments are typically in favor of increasing the citizenship rights of immigrants (which he calls “de-ethnicization ”), whereas right-of-center governments want to resist such impulses while simultaneously expanding the country’s connections to its émigrés (which he calls “re-ethnicization” ).15 In other words, the expectation is that citizenship liberalization will be much more likely to occur if a leftist government is in power.16 In that case, liberalization is possible (though certainly not guaranteed); whereas if a centerright government is in place, liberalization remains unlikely (though not impossible). Joppke’s argument is largely supported by the fact that of the six countries that liberalized their citizenship policies, Finland , Germany , Portugal , and Sweden all had left-of-center governments at the time the reform was passed, and the Netherlands had multiple grand coalition governments that included the Social Democrats , whereas only Luxembourg had a centerright government. In other words, one can argue that the fi rst step applies to five of the six cases in question, and that having a leftist government is more of a necessary than a sufficient condition for citizenship liberalization. 15

16

See Christian Joppke, “Citizenship between De- and Re-Ethnicization,” European Journal of Sociology 44, no. 3 (2003): 429–458. For a similar argument about trade policy, see Pushan Dutt and Devashish Mitra, “Political Ideology and Endogenous Trade Policy: An Empirical Investigation,” Review of Economics and Statistics 87, no. 1 (2005): 59–72.

60

Decision makers (political elites and political parties in the government)

Figure 3.4. Latent pressures on national citizenship policies.

4) Courts and Judges (judicial system generally supports the rights of immigrants)

3) Interest Groups (businesses, employer associations, immigrant groups)

2) International Norms (human rights, “modernizing” to European standards)

1) Demographic Transformation (increasing numbers of foreigners, de facto continent of immigration)

Latent Pressures for Liberalization

Public Opinion (anti-immigrant and xenophobic sentiments in the population)

Latent Pressure for Restrictiveness

Contemporary Continuity and Change

61

Part 1: Is a leftist government in power? No

Yes

Liberalization Unlikely

Liberalization Possible

Part 2: Does anti-immigrant public opinion become “activated,” either by a strong far right party or by public mobilization? Yes

Liberalization Unlikely

No

Liberalization Possible

Figure 3.5. A two-part political model for explaining citizenship liberalization.

The more important part of the argument – and the particular contribution of my analysis here – is illustrated by Part 2 of Figure 3.5. It focuses on the latent pressure for restrictiveness provided by public opinion, and asks whether this anti-immigrant sentiment becomes “activated” politically. In other words, the issue is not whether a center-left or center-right government is in power, but whether the far right is active and mobilized on the issue of immigration and citizenship reform.17 This can happen either in the form of a successful far right party, a popular movement, or a referendum of some kind on the issue of immigration or citizenship. If this is the case, then liberalization will essentially be blocked, since no government (whether on the left or right) will be able to overcome the intensity of this mobilization, because it has so much resonance in the population. In other words, politicians can easily overlook public opinion when it remains dormant, restricted to private beliefs about an issue; but once that sentiment becomes mobilized politically, politicians can ignore it only at their own peril. If there is no far right mobilization, however, then citizenship liberalization is possible as an outcome. In short, the mobilization of antiimmigrant sentiment can essentially trump the liberalizing pressures and a leftist government, and thereby block liberalization.18 17

18

Note that I use the term “far right” to refer to what others sometimes call the “radical right” or “extreme right.” For a similar type of argument about the “salience” of immigration as a political issue, and its potential to prevent the harmonization of immigration policies in EU countries, see Terri

62

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

As with many concepts in social science, it is often easier to defi ne a term and spell out an argument in abstract language than it is to assign clear and systematic measures based on existing data from the real world. The activation of anti-immigrant public opinion is difficult to measure using data that can apply to all of the relevant countries. Mobilizing events such as referenda or petition campaigns are not only relatively rare, but they are also very context-specific, thereby defying a common measure that could be applied across countries. The best systematic operationalization of this concept captures the electoral support received by far right parties – that is, those whose main platform emphasizes opposition to immigration and immigrants. Although this measure does not cover all aspects of the concept explained above, it does get at the core of it. I therefore incorporate a measure of the average electoral strength of far right parties in national elections in each country between 1992 and 2006. 19 Before turning to a more causal analysis of the relationship between the factors identified in my political model and the variation in the occurrence of citizenship liberalization, we need to address some possible alternative arguments that could account for that variation.

Alternative Explanations The literatures on immigration and citizenship provide alternative arguments and hypotheses emphasizing economic and socio-economic factors, demographics , and public opinion.20 The field of political economy has established many powerful relationships between economic factors and political outcomes. Although these types of arguments have not been applied specifically to citizenship policy, it seems plausible that there would be a meaningful relationship between variation in either economic levels or economic growth and the liberalization in citizenship laws. The theoretical expectation would therefore be that

19

20

Givens and Adam Luedtke, “The Politics of European Union Immigration Policy: Institutions, Salience, and Harmonization,” Policy Studies Journal 32, no. 1 (2004): 145–165. For the six countries that liberalized, the average far right scores go up to the year of citizenship liberalization, since the strength of the far right after the change has gone through is no longer relevant to the question of liberalization. Indeed, in some cases, such as the Netherlands , the far right became much stronger after the law was liberalized, precisely in opposition to that law. For a similar research design based on statistical analysis, see Terri Givens and Adam Luedtke, “European Immigration Policies in Comparative Perspective: Issue Salience, Partisanship and Immigrant Rights,” Comparative European Politics 3, no. 1 (2005): 1–22.

Contemporary Continuity and Change

63

Table 3.1. Economic and Socio-Economic Factors in Eleven EU Countries

Country Austria Denmark Finland Germany Greece Italy Luxembourg Netherlands Portugal Spain Sweden

GDP per capita (1997–2006 average, EU-25 = 100)

Economic growth (1997–2006 average)

Unemployment rate (1995–2006 average, in percent)

123.32 122.8 111.99 111.6 76.54 108.71 225.6 124.16 76.29 93.75 115.51

2.26 2.18 3.83 1.49 4.13 1.41 5.06 2.55 2.20 3.80 3.08

4.67 5.57 11.47 9.22 11.14 10.42 3.51 4.47 6.57 13.85 7.73

Source: Eurostat.

countries with more successful economies – as indicated by either higher levels of GDP per capita or by higher levels of annual growth – would be more likely to have the extra “margin” to afford citizenship liberalization, since they would have more resources available to absorb a greater number of immigrants as new citizens. An important socio-economic factor that often enters into discussions about immigration is the unemployment rate. It is typically assumed that countries with lower unemployment rates can more easily absorb new workers (and citizens) than those who cannot fully employ their own populations already. Table 3.1 provides the figures on these three economic and socio-economic factors, all drawn from Eurostat data. GDP per capita is measured in Purchasing Power Standards (PPS), and the data have been rescaled so that the EU-25 average equals 100. The numbers used are the average GDP per capita scores for the 1997–2006 period. Economic growth is an average of the percentage change from the previous year, covering the years 1997–2006. And the unemployment measures are an average of the available data from 1995 to 2006. Since the practice of citizenship acquisition depends in part on the extent to which immigrants live in a given country, it seems logical that there would be a connection between these two factors. In principle, the greater the number of foreigners living in a country, the greater the pressure on that

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

64

Table 3.2. Demographics in Eleven EU Countries Country Austria Denmark Finland Germany Greece Italy Luxembourg Netherlands Portugal Spain Sweden

Number of foreigners Population size in the population 8,206,524 5,411,405 5,236,611 82,500,849 11,082,751 58,462,375 455,000 16,305,526 10,529,255 43,038,035 9,011,392

765,303 267,604 108,346 7,287,980 891,197 2,402,157 177,400 699,351 238,746 3,371,394 481,141

Percentage of foreigners in the population 9.33 4.95 2.07 8.83 8.04 4.11 38.99 4.29 2.27 7.83 5.34

Source: Eurostat. Note: Most figures from 2005 (several from the most recent year available).

country’s policymakers to liberalize the granting of citizenship. I include two measures of this factor: the raw number of foreigners, which of course is much higher in the larger countries and the percentage of foreigners within the overall resident population. Table 3.2 presents this demographic information for these eleven countries, based on Eurostat data from 2005 (or the most recent year available). A fi nal alternative explanation incorporates public opinion as an explanatory factor. According to this approach, the policies chosen by elites in power should reflect the views and preferences of their constituents. And countries whose citizens display relatively low levels of anti-immigrant sentiments should be more likely to liberalize their citizenship policies, whereas high levels of xenophobia should be linked to continuing restrictiveness. There are many possible survey measures of anti-immigrant sentiment, and indeed the results can easily shift from one question to the next, depending on how each question is phrased. In the analysis below, I incorporate both measures of anti-immigrant public opinion shown earlier in Figures 3.2 and 3.3.

Evaluating the Evidence Having introduced a series of arguments that emphasize a variety of different possible causal factors, we can now turn to the empirical evidence. As in Chapter 2, since the number of eleven countries is too small for multivariate

Contemporary Continuity and Change

65

statistical analysis, we must rely on bivariate relationships between each of the variables and the outcome to be explained, namely the change in Citizenship Policy Index (CPI) scores from the 1980s to 2008. Figure 3.6 consists of a series of individual scatterplots, showing graphically the relationship between each of the variables and CPI change, and identifying the country locations on the graphs, along with the regression line. Starting with the alternative hypotheses, the figure shows that the tiny country of Luxembourg has by far the highest level of GDP per capita and that the more established West European countries have relatively high levels, especially compared with the four South European countries, which are at the bottom. But there is little apparent relationship between economic well-being and citizenship liberalization among these eleven countries. The same applies for economic growth, as the following chart shows that the poorer South European countries (Greece and Spain ) have very high levels of growth, whereas two of the original major EU members (Germany and Italy ) have the lowest. Unemployment figures also span a wide range, from Luxembourg ’s 3.5 percent to Spain’s 13.9 percent, with most countries arrayed between 5 percent and 11 percent. But there is clearly no connection to citizenship liberalization either, as the countries are scattered widely and the regression lines are essentially flat. The demographic variables show that the raw number of immigrants are – not surprisingly – much higher in the larger countries, especially in Germany , which has over 7 million foreigners. And the percentage of foreigners within the overall resident population shows that Luxembourg stands out with its nearly 40 percent foreigners, while the other countries range from just over 2 percent in Finland and Portugal to about 9 percent in Austria and Germany. Once again, the flat regression lines highlight the lack of relationship between either of these factors and citizenship liberalization. The public opinion variables are somewhat more promising. The charts for both measures of anti-immigrant sentiment show a negative slope line, indicating that the greater the xenophobic sentiment, the less likely citizenship liberalization will occur. But there is still a wide amount of variation on both measures, and it is difficult to group countries in a meaningful way. Finally, the last chart shows a quite strong relationship between the strength of far right parties and citizenship liberalization. Indeed, the graph presents three clear clusters of countries: (1) Austria, Denmark, and Italy , which have very high levels of far right support and did not liberalize

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

66

Change in CPI from 1980s to Today

4.0

Sweden

3.0

Finland

Portugal

Germany

2.0

Luxembourg Netherlands

1.0

0.0

Italy

Greece

Spain Denmark Austria

50

100

150

200

Change in CPI from 1980s to Today

(b)

(a)

4.0

Sweden

3.0

2.0

Luxembourg Netherlands

1.0

Italy

0.0

Denmark

Spain

1.0

250

4.0

Sweden

3.0

Finland

Portugal Germany 2.0

Luxembourg Netherlands

1.0

Italy

2.5

5.0

Spain

Greece

Denmark

Austria

0.0

7.5

10.0

Change in CPI from 1980s to Today

Change in CPI from 1980s to Today

2.0

3.0

Greece

4.0

5.0

6.0

(d)

(c)

4.0

3.0

Sweden

Finland Portugal

2.0

Germany

Luxembourg Netherlands

1.0

0.0

12.5

Italy Denmark Austria Greece 0

Average Unemployment (1995–2006)

Spain

2,000,000 4,000,000 6,000,000 8,000,000 Number of Foreigners in the Population

4.0

Sweden

3.0

Finland Portugal Germany

2.0

Luxembourg Netherlands

1.0

0.0

Italy Spain Denmark Austria Greece 0.00

0.10

0.20

0.30

Change in CPI from 1980s to Today

(f)

(e) Change in CPI from 1980s to Today

Austria

Average Economic Growth (1997–2006)

GDP per capita (EU-25 mean = 100)

4.0

3.0

Sweden

Finland

Portugal Germany Luxembourg

2.0

Netherlands 1.0

Italy Spain Denmark

0.0 40.0

0.40

50.0

Austria

60.0

Greece

70.0

80.0

Average Agreement with Five Anti-Immigrant Statements

Percentage of Foreigners in the Population

(h)

(g)

4.0

Sweden

3.0 Finland 2.0

Portugal Germany

Luxembourg

Netherlands

1.0

Italy Denmark

0.0 0.45

0.50

Spain

Greece

Austria 0.55

0.60

0.65

Attitudes toward Immigrants

0.70

Change in CPI from 1980s to Today

4.0 Change in CPI from 1980s to Today

Finland

Portugal Germany

3.0

2.0

Sweden

Portugal Finland Germany Luxembourg Netherlands

1.0

0.0

Italy Spain Greece 0.0

Denmark 5.0

10.0

Austria 15.0

Electoral Support of Far Right Parties

Figure 3.6. The relationship between country-level factors and CPI change.

20.0

Contemporary Continuity and Change

67

their citizenship laws (2) the six liberalizing countries, all of which had low levels of support for far right parties at the time of citizenship liberalization (3) and then Greece and Spain, the two outliers with weak far right movements yet still no liberalization. In short, as expected by Part 2 of the political model in Figure 3.5, liberalization has only occurred without the presence of a significant far right party or movement. And when such a party flourished, the pressures for liberalization were effectively blocked. The cases of Greece and Spain, which have not liberalized, help to draw attention to an important feature of my argument about the importance of far right parties. While the presence of a strong anti-immigrant movement seems to be a necessary and sufficient factor that prevents citizenship liberalization, the absence of the far right is a necessary but not sufficient condition for liberalization. In other words, as I discuss in Chapter 5, given the current constellation of political forces, there is probably a much greater chance for liberalization in Spain or Greece than there is in countries such as Austria or Denmark .

Conclusion Although the strength of far right parties is probably the best single indicator available to measure the mobilization of anti-immigrant sentiment, it captures only part of the larger political story. The reaction of more mainstream conservative parties to the challenge of the far right’s message can be just as effective in blocking liberalization. And public referenda and other forms of social mobilization, which are not captured by the far right measure, can in some ways result in more rapid and decisive restrictions than the standard process of elite and party politics. This alternate form of far right pressure is critical to citizenship developments in Germany , which I cover comprehensively in Chapter 6. In this case anti-immigrant public opinion was not activated by a far right party (such parties are closely watched and often banned), but rather through a massive petition campaign against dual citizenship for immigrants, which led to a restrictive backlash that diluted the extent of citizenship liberalization in 2000. Moreover, as I discuss in Chapter 7, which examines the historically liberal countries, the case of Ireland highlights the role of public mobilization outside party politics. Although Ireland does not have an organized far right movement, proponents of restrictions on citizenship acquisition succeeded in implementing a controversial referendum, which

68

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

passed overwhelmingly (with 80% support) in June 2004, to limit the jus soli rights of children of noncitizens, so that children born on Irish soil can receive Irish citizenship only if at least one of their parents has resided in Ireland or the United Kingdom for three of the previous four years.21 This remarkable development shows the tremendous salience of this issue when it becomes publicly mobilized – and the result is almost always change in the direction of restrictiveness. The same phenomenon has occurred repeatedly in Switzerland (which is not an EU member state, and therefore not included as a case in this book) where voters have consistently rejected referenda that would have liberalized the extremely restrictive Swiss citizenship law. Finally, expanding the analysis further to include other historically liberal countries, we see that Belgium and France – both of which have fairly strong far right movements, with 1992–2006 average far right returns of 12.3 percent and 13 percent, respectively – have seen immigration and citizenship emerge as highly polarizing political issues. These two countries have either experienced (in the case of France in the mid-1990s) or are currently experiencing (in the case of Belgium) some tinkering with their citizenship laws as a result of the pressure of the far right. In short, while the evidence above shows that my argument about the impact of far right parties helps to account for whether or not liberalizing change has occurred, it certainly does not provide the fi nal word on the topic of citizenship policies and how they have adjusted to new pressures and circumstances.22 Much more analysis and evidence is needed. But the cross-national comparison in this chapter provides a valuable starting point for understanding the complex social and political processes involved. The next steps, however, are to flesh out these arguments by focusing more 21

22

It should be pointed out, however, that while the new law is certainly more restrictive than it was previously, Ireland still grants jus soli, and in fact it is still more liberal than most other countries, such as Germany , which have lengthier residency requirements for the parents of children born in the host country, and which sometimes include employment requirements that many poorer immigrants do not fulfi ll. Of course, I have not addressed the important issue of what explains variation in the strength or weakness of far right movements, but not only does this question go beyond the scope of an analysis of the causes of variation and change in citizenship policies, it has also not yet been satisfactorily answered by specialists on this topic. For a powerful critique of this literature, along with a very convincing argument – based on the contrasting case studies of Germany and Austria – that focuses on public debates and the extent to which elites from all political parties and persuasions exclude and categorically reject the claims and strategies of the far right, see David Art , The Politics of the Nazi Past in Germany and Austria (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006).

Contemporary Continuity and Change

69

specifically on individual cases, and from those analyses to draw out more nuanced and precise conclusions about cause and effect. For without delving into the particular political discussions and debates in each country, we cannot fully understand how the mobilization of public opinion affects citizenship policy outcomes.

Part II CASES

4 Liberalizing Change Sweden, Finland, Luxembourg, the Netherlands, and Portugal

Introduction Having explored the themes of historical variation and contemporary continuity and change in a broad comparative sweep, the next set of chapters delves more deeply into individual cases. This chapter focuses on the five countries that liberalized their citizenship policies in the 1990s and especially in the early 2000s. It seeks to understand the political dynamics that can account for the changes that took place, by highlighting both similarities and differences. The fi ndings from this more in-depth analysis of these five cases support the general argument developed in Chapter 3, as they show that the various international and domestic pressures for liberalization were able to result in institutional change – in the form of a new citizenship law – because of the absence of a significant far right party or organized movement to channel the latently anti-immigrant sentiment that exists in these societies. The chapter is organized as follows: the next five sections present “minicase studies” of Sweden, Finland, Luxembourg, the Netherlands, and Portugal – organized roughly in chronological order based on when the liberalization took place – with the objective of specifying the nature of the recent citizenship reform and describing the political process that led to it.1 Following the general methodological technique of “structured, focused comparisons,”2 each section highlights in particular the effect of the 1

2

As with most of the case studies, my analysis draws extensively on the country chapters in Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, Volume 2, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Eva Ersbøll, Kees Groenendijk, and Harald Waldrauch (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2006). Alexander L. George and Andrew Bennett, Case Studies and Theory Development in the Social Sciences (Cambridge: MIT Press, 2005), pp. 67–72.

73

74

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

demographic situation in each country, the role of the ideological orientation of political parties in government, and the main actors and forces that supported the change. The case studies also discuss the general lack of organized opposition to the reform, showing how pro-reform elites were able to capitalize on the organizational weakness of the far right. The fi nal section brings the evidence from the cases into this book’s larger theoretical argument about the causes of contemporary continuity or change.

Sweden The 2001 Swedish Citizenship Act ushered in a major liberalization of Sweden’s citizenship policy, which had last been modified in 1950. In some sense, the change is not particularly surprising, since Sweden has for several decades been considered relatively generous and welcoming toward immigrants.3 But it also represented a significant break away from a century-long pattern of Nordic cooperation on matters of citizenship. Indeed, the fi rst Swedish Citizenship Act of 1894, along with subsequent revisions in 1924 and 1950, had been based on a close partnership with Finland, Norway, Denmark, and Iceland.4 Yet in 2001 Sweden broke out on its own, establishing a new and bold policy that, most importantly, now officially allows for dual citizenship for both immigrants and emigrants. Moreover, while still falling short of jus soli, the new law has attempted to facilitate the naturalization process, particularly for foreign children who have grown up in Sweden.5 And the residency requirement for naturalization remained at five years, among the shortest in the EU. Overall, Sweden’s CPI score jumped from 1.72 to 5.47, and it now has the second most liberal citizenship policy in the EU. The political process that led to the 2001 reform was relatively smooth and straightforward. The door was opened in 1997 by the Council of Europe’s “European Convention on Nationality,” to which Sweden was a signatory. The 1997 document effectively superseded the Council’s 1963 “Convention on the Reduction of Cases of Multiple Nationality,” as it noted “the varied approach of States to the question of multiple nationality,” and 3

4

5

See, e.g., Andrew Geddes, The Politics of Migration and Immigration in Europe (London: Sage Publications, 2003), p. 108. Note that since Norway and Iceland are not EU members, they are not included in this analysis. As mentioned in Chapter 1, Sweden has a unique policy of granting all minors who reside in the country for five years (regardless of where they were born) a legal entitlement to citizenship.

Liberalizing Change

75

then concluded that “each State is free to decide which consequences it attaches in its internal law to the fact that a national acquires or possesses another nationality.”6 Shortly after signing the 1997 agreement, the Swedish government created a committee to evaluate the possibility of permitting dual citizenship, and the committee’s report, presented in March 1999, ultimately became the basis for the 2001 Swedish Citizenship Act . In addition to the international “blessing” that was granted by the Council of Europe, a variety of domestic factors contributed to the liberalization of Sweden’s citizenship law. First, Sweden has been home to a large number of immigrants – totaling over 5 percent of the population – since the 1970s, thus making it one of the most diverse and tolerant countries in Europe .7 Second, Sweden’s “principle of domicile” has long granted foreigners most of the same civil and social rights as Swedish citizens, and even some locallevel political rights, thus making the formal possession of citizenship less significant of a change than in other countries with restrictive citizenship policies.8 Third, as in many European countries, dual citizenship was becoming an increasingly common reality in Sweden, and it became apparent that the old reasons for opposing it – that it would create problems for national security, diplomatic protection, and military service – no longer applied to the contemporary situation.9 Moreover, many supporters of the reform emphasized the potential positive effects of this change, namely that it would help to further integrate foreigners into Swedish society.10 In short, the committee concluded that the 1950 citizenship law was outdated, and the ensuing change in 2001 was therefore a result of “a wish to modernize

6

7

8

9

10

http://conventions.coe.int/Treaty/en/Treaties/Html/166.htm (accessed May 24, 2009). For more on this change, see Marc Morjé Howard, “Variation in Dual Citizenship Policies in the Countries of the EU,” International Migration Review 39, no. 3 (2005): 697–720. See Charles Westin, “Young People of Migrant Origin in Sweden,” International Migration Review 37, no. 4 (2003): 987–1010. As the authors of a comparative study note, “it is remarkable how strong the argument of political equality was in the discussions of the 1980s and 1990s. It was applied to equal treatment of Swedish citizens acquiring nationality abroad and denizens naturalizing in Sweden – but also to more arcane and indirect arguments about the minimal difference in rights between denizens and citizens: since this difference was already so small, it would make little sense not to tolerate dual nationality.” See Thomas Faist, Jürgen Gerdes, and Beate Rieple, “Dual Citizenship as a Path-Dependent Process,” International Migration Review 38, no. 3 (2004): 934. Hedvig Lokrantz Bernitz and Henrik Bernitz, “Sweden,” in Bauböck et al., eds., Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, p. 526. Also see Per Gustafson, “Globalisation, Multiculturalism and Individualism: The Swedish Debate on Dual Citizenship,” Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies 28, no. 3 (2002): 463–481. Bernitz and Bernitz, “Sweden,” p. 526.

76

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

the nationality law and put it in line with the changes that had occurred in Swedish society because of immigration and internationalisation.”11 The new law was approved after a very straightforward and consensusoriented political process. The center-left Social Democratic Labor Party, which has dominated Swedish politics for decades, proposed the new Citizenship Act in June 2000. Six of the seven parties represented in the Riksdag agreed to co-sponsor the full legislation, with the one holdout being the center-right Moderate Party, which opposed the granting of dual citizenship. The Green Party had hoped to institute pure jus soli, but since there was not enough support for such a change, the Greens fully supported the government’s proposal. The new law was ultimately approved in February 2001, with widespread support from all sides of the political spectrum. The larger societal debate was also generally quite positive about the reform. As Gustafson writes, In the public debate about the commission’s report and the proposed new legislation, some newspapers (right-of-centre), some public authorities (including the Armed Forces and the Aliens Appeal Board) and several individuals also more or less forcefully opposed dual citizenship. However, most participants in the debate were in favour, and an opinion poll made in March 1999, when the commission’s report was presented, indicated that dual citizenship was accepted by a narrow majority of the Swedish population .12

In other words, while it was by no means unanimous, the political and public debate about the new citizenship law remained low-key and consensus-oriented, rather than contentious and oppositional. Even Swedish expatriates favored not simply the establishment of dual citizenship for emigrants – a common goal of what Joppke calls “reethnicization,”13 which is generally favored by the political right – but also supported full dual citizenship for immigrants as well .14 The far right played little role in the debates on the Swedish citizenship law. As Faist, Gerdes, and Rieple write, Swedish politics in general and immigrant accommodation politics in particular have occurred between consensus politics with a focus on seeking broad societal and political majorities on the one hand and block politics of the left and the center right parties on the other. Although, as in the German case, no right-wing populist 11 12 13

14

Ibid., p. 533. Gustafson, “Globalisation, Multiculturalism and Individualism,” p. 469. Christian Joppke, “Citizenship between De- and Re-Ethnicization,” European Journal of Sociology 44, no. 3 (2003): 429–458. Bernitz and Bernitz, “Sweden,” p. 526.

Liberalizing Change

77

party of national importance existed, mainstream parties, unlike the German case, refrained from exploiting the citizenship issue in a populist fashion.15

And Bernitz and Bernitz add, “There seems to be a consensus in Sweden that populist parties should be avoided, and that any attempt would probably fail to reach out to the public through the media. In this respect the political landscape in Sweden differs from that of its neighbors, Norway and Denmark.”16 In short, Sweden not only lacked a right-wing party to whip up antiimmigrant sentiment, but most of the political spectrum supported the liberalization. As a result, the new Swedish Citizenship Act was approved smoothly, and it elicited virtually no contentious opposition from political and societal groups.

Finland The story of Finland’s citizenship liberalization is quite similar to that of neighboring Sweden. Finland’s historical tradition is more recent, since it became an independent state only in 1917. Nevertheless, like the other Nordic countries Finland’s citizenship policy, as embodied in its fi rst Nationality Act of 1920, was fi rmly anchored in the jus sanguinis tradition. The next major revision took place in the 1968 Nationality Decree, which followed other European countries in moving toward greater gender equality. But dual citizenship remained explicitly banned at that time, as “the principal rule was that anyone acquiring a second nationality automatically lost his/her Finnish nationality, and a condition for acquisition of Finnish nationality was that any other nationality was renounced.”17 Yet in 2003, Finland adopted a new Nationality Act, whose “main novelty … is the acceptance of multiple nationality.”18 That said, while this new-found tolerance of full dual citizenship – for both immigrants and emigrants – represented a major liberalization of Finland’s citizenship policy, it 15 16

17

18

Faist et al., “Dual Citizenship as a Path-Dependent Process,” p. 934. Bernitz and Bernitz, “Sweden,” p. 531. See also Anders Widfeldt, “Scandinavia: Mixed Success for the Populist Right,” Parliamentary Affairs 53, no. 3 (2000): 486–500; Anders Widfeldt, “The Diversified Approach: Swedish Responses to the Extreme Right,” in Western Democracies and the New Extreme Right Challenge, edited by Roger Eatwell and Cas Mudde (New York: Routledge, 2004), p. 150; and Jens Rydgren, “Radical Right Populism in Sweden: Still a Failure, but for How Long?” Scandinavian Political Studies 25, no. 1 (2002): 27–56. Jessica Fagerlund, “Finland,” in Bauböck et al., eds., Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, p. 150. Ibid., p. 159.

78

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

was partly counterbalanced by a slight increase in the minimum residency requirement, from five to six years. On the whole, though, the reform was clearly in a liberalizing direction, as Finland’s Citizenship Policy Index (CPI) score increased from 1.72 to 4.32. As in Sweden, a combination of international and domestic factors led to Finland’s citizenship liberalization. At that time, many European countries were either incorporating or at least discussing the possibility of allowing dual citizenship, and the issue was debated in Finland starting in the early 1990s. Finland may have been especially eager to follow international trends “based on a fear of being isolated as a consequence of the country’s geographical position, at the outskirts of Europe.”19 Within the Nordic region, Sweden’s smooth acceptance of dual citizenship in 2001 clearly played a role in the discussions in Finland (as well as in Iceland, which also adopted dual citizenship shortly thereafter), although Denmark and Norway have resisted it altogether – thus creating a break in the historical pattern of Nordic cooperation on citizenship matters. On the domestic front, the immigrant population in Finland had been increasing consistently over the 1990s, with foreigners constituting approximately 2 percent of the population – though still considerably lower than the 5 percent in Sweden – and there was a sense that procedures for acquiring Finnish citizenship needed to be clarified. As Fagerlund writes, “A major consideration behind the reform was that the old Nationality Act was deficient and partly outdated. There were major inadequacies with regard to the legal safeguards and defi nitions of the requirements for naturalization as the provisions of the old Act had a rather general character.”20 The 2003 law did indeed specify Finland’s new policies much more clearly, in terms both of dual citizenship and naturalization requirements, and it also served to “modernize” Finland, as the arguments against dual citizenship were seen as obsolete. If anything, as in Sweden, dual citizenship was viewed as a means of better integrating immigrants into Finnish society .21 As for the political process according to which the 2003 Nationality Act was approved, many parties, groups, and actors played an important role in crafting and implementing the new legislation. The social democratic 19 20 21

Ibid., p. 181. Ibid., p. 159. Fagerlund writes, “It was now considered to be in the interest of the Finnish Republic that immigrants who had taken up permanent residence in Finland should acquire Finnish nationality. … Despite the arguments against multiple nationality, the overall picture was still that multiple nationality would better serve the interests of Finland.” Fagerlund, “Finland,” Ibid., p. 162.

Liberalizing Change

79

government was certainly pushing the reforms, but they were also backed by broad segments of society. A crucial political force pushing for multiple nationality were Finnish expatriates, represented by the Finland Society and the Finnish Expatriate Parliament. “As a result of the intense lobbying work of the Finnish expatriates, the political parties were to a great extent in agreement on accepting multiple nationality. The political debate on the issue was therefore rather tame.”22 Although it may have been “tame,” the debate certainly brought in a wide range of voices. The Committee for Constitutional Law, which handled the deliberation over the bill, asked fi fty different agencies, organizations, and interest groups to provide statements on the proposed act. Seventeen different organizations were asked to comment on the specific issue of multiple nationality.23 After all of this opinion canvassing, the only criticism came from the Ministry of Defense, which feared a risk to national security.24 And of the political parties, only the Swedish People’s Party – which represents the Swedish-speaking population of Finland and receives about 5 percent of the popular vote – displayed mild resistance to dual citizenship, by putting the process on hold temporarily while the Nordic countries coordinated their policies. As a result of this wide-ranging societal support, along with the backing of all major political parties, the Finnish Parliament passed the new Nationality Act in January 2003. Completely missing from the debate was a far right, anti-immigrant opposition. According to Arno Tanner of the Finnish Directorate of Immigration: “Immigration questions have not gained a major foothold in political debates, nor have opposition parties chosen immigration as an issue for challenging ruling parties, including the current center-left coalition government.”25 Moreover, Tanner adds, “Finland has no openly xenophobic party, unlike many other European countries, and thus, the major parties have been able to take a fact-oriented approach to immigrationrelated policy.”26 As a result, the parliamentary and ministerial work

22

23 24 25

26

Ibid., p. 160. The Finland Society was founded in 1927 as an interest group to help Finnish expatriates and Finns moving abroad. The Finnish Expatriate Party was founded in 1997 and is a forum for expatriate Finns; its mission since inception was the acceptance of multiple nationality. Ibid., p. 174. Ibid., p. 180. Arno Tanner, “Finland’s Prosperity Brings New Migrants” (Washington, D.C.: Migration Policy Institute, 2004), available at http://www.migrationinformation.com/Profi les/ display.cfm?ID=267 (accessed May 24, 2009). Ibid.

80

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

regarding the new Nationality Act was enacted smoothly, without heated political or societal opposition .

Luxembourg The process of citizenship liberalization in Luxembourg took place under circumstances quite different from those in Sweden or Finland. Most obviously, Luxembourg is not part of the Nordic group of countries that has long cooperated on citizenship matters. But Luxembourg is also unique within the EU in terms of its small size – both territory and population – as well as its astoundingly high percentage of foreign residents, totaling 41 percent of the population and 66 percent of the work force.27 Also, the extent of liberalization that was accomplished with both the 2001 and 2008 reforms remains an open question. The change was somewhat more modest than in some of the other liberalizing countries, as Luxembourg increased from 0.50 to 2.25 on the CPI scale.28 Historically, Luxembourg has changed its citizenship laws, sometimes quite radically, numerous times since independence in 1839, though it has generally been fi rmly grounded in jus sanguinis. An important exception, however, was the “liberal period” of 1878 to 1934, which introduced a version of the French policy of double jus soli, whereby the child of foreign parents who were themselves born in Luxembourg would automatically receive citizenship. The reason for this policy was articulated by René Blum, Minister of Justice before World War II, who declared that “in immigration countries like ours or in those countries with small numbers of births, which is also our case, the state should increase as much as possible the number of its nationals by assimilating all those who are born on the national soil and thus we avoid the setting up of colonies of foreigners in our country.”29 27

28 29

See Claudia Hartmann-Hirsch, “Les immigrés hautement qualifiés: le cas du Luxembourg,” Migration & Société 20, nos. 117–118 (2008): 25–46. It should be noted, however, that the majority of Luxembourg’s foreign population comes from other EU countries (primarily Portugal). According to the 2001 census (which took place before the addition of the “Accession-12”), only 13.9% of the foreign resident population are third-country nationals. See Cathérine Burnotte-Boreux and Yvan Casteels, La société luxembourgeoise à travers le recensement de 2001: Fiches thématiques (Luzembourg: Statec and Centre Universitaire de Luxembourg, 2001), pp. 43–44. The 2001 reform resulted in a CPI score of 1.84, which lasted until the change in 2008. François Moyse, Pierre Brasseur, and Denis Scuto, “Luxembourg,” in Bauböck et al., eds., Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, p. 371. Also see Denis Scuto, “Qu’est-ce qu’un Luxembourgeois? Histoire de la nationalité luxembourgeoise du Code Napoléon à nos jours,” Hémecht, Revue d’histoire luxembourgeoise 58, no. 2 (2006): 73–96.

Liberalizing Change

81

This rather liberal view of how foreigners should be treated and incorporated into society was completely undermined in the late 1930s, as Luxembourg sought to defend itself against the sense of spreading Deutschtum of Nazi Germany by reemphasizing the concept of Luxemburgertum. As a result, the double jus soli policy was replaced in 1940 by jus sanguinis, along with more restrictive integration policies, which were justified by the argument that “naturalization will be refused to a foreigner who does not justify sufficient assimilation .”30 Indeed, this fear of foreign spies and traitors, and the memory of World War II in general, would affect the way nationality legislation in Luxembourg was to be approached long in the future. For example, in 1966 the Minister of Justice, Pierre Werner, expressed continued concern about treachery, saying that “many foreigners insufficiently assimilated in the country have only profited from the rights of citizenship to better serve their former fatherland,” adding that the “undesirables” should be kept out.31 Over the past several decades, the political parties debated the issues, proposed reforms, and sometimes successfully changed Luxembourg’s citizenship policy. Overall, the positions of the left-of-center and right-of-center parties were fairly predictable, fitting the typical patterns. Those on the left argued that because of the small size of the population and the low birth rate, Luxembourg should encourage as many naturalizations as possible, whereas those on the right countered that naturalizations should be given cautiously and that language competence should be required for naturalization.32 Luxembourg’s liberalization process has taken place in two steps. The Nationality Act of 2001 was in some sense a compromise between these two arguments and political forces, although it took place under a centerright government. It certainly represented liberalization, in that the residency requirement was reduced from ten years – which had been among the longest in the EU – to five, and the fees for naturalization were removed (though they were already quite low to begin with). But at the same time, the new law requires knowledge of either Luxemburgish, French, or German, and basic knowledge of Luxemburgish, “underscored by certificates and official documents.”33 Nonetheless, on balance the movement was in the direction of liberalization, and Luxembourg is certainly not alone in introducing a language requirement. The 2008 reform added changes in both directions as well. The renunciation requirement was eliminated, thus 30 31 32 33

Moyse et al., “Luxembourg,” p. 372. Ibid., p. 373. Ibid., pp. 373–374. Ibid., p. 375.

82

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

allowing dual citizenship for immigrants.34 But the new law has increased the residency requirement for immigrants and spouses to seven years, while also adding to the civic integration requirements. On the whole, however, both the 2001 and 2008 changes represent liberalization, albeit with some restrictive movement . The process that led to the 2001 and 2008 reforms was mainly domestically driven. International factors may have played an indirect role, as Luxembourg was repeatedly scolded by the European Court of Justice in the late 1990s for restricting certain rights and privileges to nationals.35 But the primary pressures were domestic: “Different factors may explain this debate about the liberalisation and easing the conditions for the acquisition of nationality: the existence of an ever increasing foreign population, the essential role of foreign manpower in the economic development of the country and of the viability of the social security system, the dynamics of an even deeper integration with the European Union.”36 In other words, most of the larger factors were fi ltered through a domestic lens. The reform process was also almost entirely driven by elites. Indeed the gap between public opinion and elite policymaking was quite striking. As Moyse, Brasseur, and Scuto write, “An ever wider gap grows between the Luxemburgish politicians trying to tackle these issues of democracy and immigration and the Luxembourgish nationals who generally do not wish to integrate even other EU-nationals .”37 In other words, the public sentiment against liberalization has certainly existed, but it was not sufficiently organized or mobilized to be able to have any influence on what remained an entirely elite-led process. That said, there is one party, the Action Committee for Democracy and Pension Justice (ADR/CADJS), which has gradually moved in a far right, populist direction on this issue, and focused in particular on the issue of passing the language requirement in 2001. While in its current configuration the ADR does not count as a far right party and its main platform is not related to an anti-immigrant agenda, the potential is certainly there, which could endanger future possible liberalization of Luxembourg’s still fairly restrictive citizenship law.

34 35

36 37

See http://www.mj.public.lu/nationalite/ (accessed May 24, 2009). See “Court Says Luxembourg Cannot Exclude Non-National Teachers,” Reuters, July 2, 1996; “Commission Takes Action against Belgium, Luxembourg, and Spain,” European Union Press Releases, October 12, 1998; “Luxembourg Faces Fine for Employment Restrictions,” Xinhua News Agency, December 3, 1998; “Commission Asks Court of Justice to Fine Luxembourg,” European Union Press Releases, December 2, 1998. Moyse et al., “Luxembourg,” p. 375. Ibid., p. 388.

Liberalizing Change

83

Overall, however, the liberalization of Luxembourg’s Nationality Act was the result of an elite reaction to demographic and international pressures that created the perception that a modernization of the law was necessary. Despite the public’s widespread doubts about immigrant integration, the limited public mobilization against it allowed the new law to pass relatively easily.

The Netherlands Of the five countries that have liberalized their citizenship policies since the 1980s, the opening of Dutch citizenship has been the most ambiguous, contested, and precarious. Indeed, it stands out as distinct among the countries of liberalizing change in four key respects. First, the starting point was already in the “medium” category, considerably more liberal than the other four countries in the fi rst place, as a result of its historical experience as a major colonial power. Second, the period of liberalization took place in the early to mid-1990s, whereas the other four countries liberalized after 2000. Third, unlike the other countries, the modifications in the Netherlands have been more a matter of policy than law, meaning that the issue usually remains open to political currents and contestation, without having the aura of permanence and fi nality that typically occurred in the other liberalizers. Fourth, as a result of the increasing political battles that have taken place, which included the rise of a movement that many have characterized (though not unequivocally) as being on the far right, the Netherlands has actually been moving in a somewhat more restrictive direction in the 2000s. Nonetheless, when observed from the time horizon spanning the 1980s to the end of 2008, the Dutch story is still one of liberalizing change, as the overall CPI score increased from 2.72 to 4.22. Moreover, within the larger cross-national perspective of the EU-15, citizenship policies in the Netherlands are still relatively liberal, with double jus soli, a five-year residency requirement, and a fairly flexible application of dual citizenship for immigrants. Even the Dutch naturalization rates, which have declined sharply since 2003, remain substantially higher than in most other EU countries. Finally, as I explain below, the more recent backlash actually serves to illustrate the larger argument of this book about the political power of the mobilization of anti-immigrant sentiment. The history of Dutch citizenship law has been quite volatile as well. The Dutch Civil Code of 1838 granted citizenship to everyone born in the Netherlands or in one of its colonies, but the Dutch Nationality Act

84

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

of 1892 replaced this form of jus soli with pure jus sanguinis, which remained the dominant feature for the next six decades.38 But in 1953, in a policy that was initially intended for the Belgians born in the border region, the Netherlands incorporated double jus soli, whereby thirdgeneration immigrants automatically acquired Dutch citizenship.39 Over the ensuing decades, as former colonies such as Surinam and Indonesia became independent – thus creating strong international and domestic pressures for increased immigration – these relatively lenient citizenship policies persisted.40 And while immigrant organizations41 and the Council of Europe42 both played a role in setting the terms of parliamentary discourse, it was domestic politics that most directly determined citizenship policy. The various twists and turns are too numerous and nuanced to detail here,43 but the Dutch Nationality Act of 1984 concretized a fairly open policy, based on double jus soli, five years of consecutive residence, and acquisition of citizenship by declaration for second-generation immigrants. Moreover, in a separate constitutional amendment in 1985, non-Dutch legal residents were granted the right to vote in municipal elections .44 The one restrictive feature that remained was the preclusion of dual citizenship for immigrants . 38

39 40

41

42

43

44

During this time, the Dutch government was more interested in encouraging its citizens to emigrate than in welcoming new immigrants and citizens. See Ricky van Oers, Betty de Hart, and Kees Groenendijk, “The Netherlands,” in Bauböck et al., eds., Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, pp. 393–395. See ibid., pp. 396–399. The process of citizenship liberalization gained momentum as the government recognized that post-colonial immigrants were not going to return to their native countries and that a policy of immigrant integration was necessary. The recommendation to promote integration came from the Scientific Council for Government Policy (WRR), a think tank close to government, in its “Ethnic Minorities” report of 1979. See Han Entzinger, “The Rise and Fall of Multiculturalism: The Case of the Netherlands,” in Toward Assimilation and Citizenship: Immigrants in Liberal Nation-States, edited by Christian Joppke and Ewa Morawska (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003), p. 71. See Kees Groenendijk and Eric Heijs, “Immigration, Immigrants and Nationality Law in the Netherlands, 1945–98,” in Towards a European Nationality: Citizenship, Immigration and Nationality Law in the EU, edited by Randall Hansen and Patrick Weil (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2001), pp. 157–162. See Maarten Vink, Limits of European Citizenship: European Integration and Domestic Immigration Policies (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005), p. 155. For a good account of incremental liberalization in the postwar period, see van Oers et al., “The Netherlands,” pp. 396–402. Also see Groenendijk and Heijs, “Immigration.” The Netherlands was only the second country (after Sweden) to extend local voting rights to legal aliens. See Hans Vermeulen and Rinus Penninx, eds., Immigrant Integration: The Dutch Case (Amsterdam: Het Spinhuis, 2000), p. 23.

Liberalizing Change

85

Over the course of the 1990s, the question of dual citizenship was hotly debated among the political elite, with various proposals and permutations. All parties agreed on the abolition of an outdated principle whereby dual citizens would lose their citizenship after ten years of living abroad. The left-wing Social Democrats, Progressive Liberals, and Green Left strongly supported dual citizenship for immigrants, but the rightof-center Christian Democrats and Conservative Liberals raised serious objections.45 A bill allowing full dual citizenship passed the lower house of Parliament (then controlled by a broad center-left coalition) in 1995, but it was blocked by the right-wing majority in the Senate and then withdrawn in 1996. A revised version was passed in 1997, however, which maintained the renunciation requirement – thereby formally opposing dual citizenship for immigrants – but included numerous exceptions that applied to almost all applicants .46 The culmination of this political debate was the Dutch Nationality Act, which was passed in 2000 and entered into force in April 2003. This law represents a compromise between the different forces, maintaining the official renunciation requirement while also formalizing many types of exceptions.47 In addition, the new law has made naturalization more difficult, as discussed below. Up until the early 2000s, the debates in the Netherlands about citizenship policy had remained predominantly at the elite level. While there were certainly vehement disagreements between the political parties, they generally did not seek to “politicize” the issue within the larger realm of electoral politics. And for decades Dutch society had developed an international reputation for its openness, acceptance of all kinds of groups and behavior, and general fairness and equality. As Ian Buruma puts it, 45

46

47

Van Oers et al., “The Netherlands,” pp. 407, 426. Also see Vink, Limits of European Citizenship, p. 153. See Ruud van den Bedem, “Towards a System of Plural Nationality in the Netherlands. Changes in Regulations and Perceptions,” in From Aliens to Citizens: Redefi ning the Status of Immigrants in Europe, edited by Rainer Bauböck (Aldershot: Avebury, 1994), p. 96; Betty de Hart, “The End of Multiculturalism: The End of Dual Citizenship? Political and Public Debates on Dual Citizenship in The Netherlands (1980–2004),” in Dual Citizenhsip in Europe: From Nationhood to Societal Integration, edited by Thomas Faist (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2007), p. 88; Betty de Hart and Kees Groenendijk, “Multiple Nationality: The Practice of Germany and the Netherlands,” in International Migration Law: Development Paradigms and Key Challenges, edited by Ryszard Cholewinski, Richard Perruchoud, and Euan MacDonald (The Hague: T. M. C. Asser Press, 2007), pp. 87–103. For this reason, I code the Netherlands as a 1.5 (out of 2) on the dual citizenship component of the CPI.

86

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

“ideals of tolerance and diversity became a badge of national honor.”48 This sentiment certainly dovetailed nicely with the liberalized citizenship policy of the 1990s. By 2002, however, the situation had changed considerably. Immigration rates had reached unprecedented levels, naturalization rates were the highest in Europe,49 and immigrant integration became a matter of widespread public debate. Right-of-center political parties began to speak more openly about restricting the very liberal immigration and citizenship policies in the Netherlands. The signs of this impending change had already been set in the mid-1990s, when the Christian Democrats were forced into opposition, and they chose to make the issue of citizenship “more publicized than before.”50 But it increased in particular with the rapid political rise and shocking assassination in 2002 of the populist and provocative Pim Fortuyn, who famously declared – among many other colorful quotations – that “the Netherlands is full.”51 And of course the murder of Theo van Gogh in 2004 and subsequent threats to Ayaan Hirsi Ali have dramatically shattered the illusion of multicultural consensus that had existed in postwar Dutch society.52 As a result of this politicization of citizenship, the policy itself has become more restrictive in recent years, with a rather strict interpretation and enforcement of the new conditions for “civic integration.” Indeed, the naturalization requirements in the 2003 law have been implemented in a restrictive manner, as they now include an expensive, partially computerized naturalization exam (the content of which is kept secret). The exam itself consists of a test about “knowledge of Dutch polity and society” and a four-hour language assessment, in which the applicant has to demonstrate adequate oral and written language skills.53 Even if the exam is not neces48

49

50 51

52

53

Ian Buruma, Murder in Amsterdam: The Death of Theo Van Gogh and the Limits of Tolerance (New York: Penguin Press, 2006), p. 35. According to Eurostat data, the naturalization rate reached 11.4% in 1996, more than double the next highest EU country. De Hart, “The End of Multiculturalism,” p. 92. Although the “Pim Fortuyn List” was certainly different from, more complex than, and less extreme than other European far right parties such as Jörg Haider’s Freedom Party in Austria or Jean-Marie Le Pen’s National Front in France, it was certainly anti-immigrant, and it received 17% of the vote in 2002. It thus represents an excellent example of the political power of the mobilization of anti-immigrant sentiment. For a compelling critique of the Dutch multicultural model based on substantial empirical evidence, see Paul M. Sniderman and Louk Hagendoorn, When Ways of Life Collide: Multiculturalism and Its Discontents in the Netherlands (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2007). See van Oerset al., “The Netherlands,” pp. 412–414.

Liberalizing Change

87

sarily difficult for those who have already been living in the Netherlands, the effect is clearly to serve as a disincentive for immigrants to naturalize. So even though dual citizenship is still possible in most circumstances, the increasing difficulty of naturalization – which has been reflected in a gradual drop in naturalization rate from 7.13 percent in 2000 to 3.74 percent in 2004, though back up to 4.07 percent in 200554 – has certainly changed the climate for immigrants in the Netherlands. And the four different governments under Prime Minister Jan Peter Balkenende, a Christian-Democrat, since 2002 have attempted in different ways to undermine the liberalization of Dutch citizenship policy, including a failed proposal to remove many of the exceptions to the renunciation requirement. More changes may still take place in upcoming years, and if so they will probably move in a more restrictive direction . On the whole, though, the Dutch story from the 1980s to the present is still one of liberalization – even if more ambiguous than the other cases discussed in this chapter. In a sense, it has similarities to the “liberalization with a restrictive backlash” that occurred in Germany (as explained in detail in Chapter 6), since the clear process of liberalization in the 1990s took place largely in the elite sphere of politics, and the restrictive turn developed after the anti-immigrant forces became publicly activated and mobilized.

Portugal Portugal is the most recent country to liberalize its citizenship policy, as its new Nationality Law came into effect only in 2006. The new law increased Portugal’s CPI score from 1.75 to 4.32,55 meaning that like the Netherlands, Sweden, and Finland, Portugal jumped up from the “medium” to the “liberal” category. Indeed, Portugal now has one of the most liberal citizenship policies of the EU-15, though it remains to be seen if its naturalization rate will rise accordingly. Portuguese citizenship law has a long and complex history. Dating back to the Ordination of King Philip in 1603, and reinforced again in multiple 54 55

These data come from Eurostat. Note that the increase would have been even greater (up to 5.32) if not for the naturalization rate “correction” applied to the naturalization requirements and dual citizenship components of the CPI. But since the correction is based on the average naturalization rates from 2000 to 2005, i.e., before the new Portuguese law took effect, I have reduced the scores in those two components by only 0.50, instead of 0.75 (which would have been the correction based on Portugal’s very low average naturalization rate of 0.56%).

88

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

amendments throughout the nineteenth century, Portugal’s policy has long included a strong – and comparatively rare – emphasis on jus soli, though with some restrictions and variations.56 The Nationality Act of 1959 maintained this principle of jus soli, whereby the children of foreigners could acquire Portuguese citizenship relatively easily. Interestingly, Portugal was one of the few countries to impose rather strict restrictions on the passing of citizenship via jus sanguinis, as children born abroad could not acquire Portuguese citizenship, even if both of their parents were Portuguese.57 An important reform in the 1959 law was the institutionalization of significant preferences in the naturalization requirements for foreigners from Lusophone countries – an issue that became particularly relevant after the end of military rule in Portugal in 1974. The subsequent independence of Portuguese colonies resulted in a great deal of confusion about the attribution of citizenship for those living in the former colonies.58 The 1981 Nationality Act brought about a striking change in Portuguese citizenship policy. As Baganha and Urbano de Sousa write, “Breaking with a centuries-old tradition the new law gave prevalence to ius sanguinis over ius soli (which alone no longer conferred Portuguese nationality).”59 The 1981 law – which formed the basis of Portugal’s CPI score for “the 1980s” – established clear rights of jus sanguinis for Portuguese emigrants and their families, while also imposing greater restrictions on the granting of citizenship by jus soli and naturalization. According to this law, which was reinforced by an amendment in 1994, children born in Portugal to foreign parents could receive Portuguese citizenship only if one of the parents had legally resided there for at least ten years. There was also no provision for jus soli “after birth,” for those who were born abroad but came to Portugal as young children . The residency requirement for the naturalization of immigrants from non-Lusophone countries was set at ten years.60 And dual citizenship for immigrants became openly accepted. Nonetheless, while Portugal had a relatively liberal citizenship policy in the 1980s, the practice of naturalization was actually exceedingly rare, with naturalization 56

57

58 59 60

Maria Ioannis Baganha and Constança Urbano de Sousa, “Portugal,” in Bauböck et al., eds., Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, pp. 437–441. An exception was made if a parent was working “in the service of the Portuguese state.” See ibid., p. 441. Ibid., pp. 444–445. Ibid., p. 448. Note that as with Spain, which has maintained (and continues to maintain) differential requirements for immigrants of Spanish heritage, when evaluating Portugal’s citizenship policy, I consider the effect of the law on those who do not receive special treatment based on their cultural or linguistic heritage and affi nity with the host country.

Liberalizing Change

89

rates under 0.1 percent in the 1990s, and rising to only about 0.5 percent in the 2000s, thus suggesting a possible gap between the policy itself and its implementation in practice. Throughout the evolution of Portuguese citizenship policy, the decisionmaking process has remained on the elite level. According to Baganha and Urbano de Sousa, “Neither the original version of the Nationality Act of 1981 , the new wording of 1994, nor the minor changes in 2004, raised heated debates or political divisions. Quite the opposite: from 1981 until today, this Act has reflected the existence of a broad and consensual understanding amongst the main political powers about who is, and who should be, Portuguese.”61 At the same time, the far right has essentially been nonexistent in Portuguese politics, thus preventing the politicization of this issue.62 The election of a new Socialist government in 2005 brought about another change in Portugal’s citizenship policy (one that came too late for Baganha and Urbano de Sousa to include it systematically in their analysis) as Prime Minister José Sócrates proposed a considerable liberalization of the law.63 His plan included provisions for double jus soli at birth, jus soli after birth, and a simplification of the naturalization requirements, including a reduction of the minimum residency to six years. Significantly, the proposal also included the elimination of the preference for citizens from Lusophone countries. This certainly places Portugal among the most liberal countries in Europe today, but the big question – which cannot yet be answered given that not enough time has elapsed since the new law took effect – is whether it will bring about a concomitant liberalization of Portugal’s naturalization rates, which have historically been very low. In terms of the politics of citizenship, the proposal passed with very little active resistance. Prime Minister Sócrates characterized the law as “a civilized step, a huge change towards greater inclusion and integration, insofar as it acknowledges that the sons and daughters of immigrants have the right to Portuguese nationality,”64 and few of his political opponents 61 62

63

64

Ibid., “Portugal,” p. 450. See Marcel Lubbers, Mérove Gijsberts, and Peer Scheepers, “Extreme Right-Wing Voting in Western Europe,” European Journal of Political Research 41, no. 3 (2002): 345–378; José Pedro Zúquete, “Portugal: A New Look at the Extreme Right,” Representation 43, no. 3 (2007): 179–198. In general, since this reform is still quite new, there are fewer published sources that analyze it in much detail. Quoted in Mario de Queiroz, “Portugal: Nationality Extended to Second and ThirdGeneration Immigrants,” in Inter Press Service, February 16, 2006. Available at http:// ipsnews.net/news.asp?idnews=32189 (accessed May 24, 2009).

90

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

disagreed with him or challenged him openly on this issue . In fact, the High Commissioner for Immigration and Ethnic Minorities, Rui Marques, referred to the legislation as “an excellent example of a search for a broad consensus on immigration policy.”65 The bill passed the Parliament with overwhelming support. In addition to the Socialist Party, it had the backing of the center-right Social Democratic Party, the Communist Party, and the Greens. Two factions abstained from the vote: the Left Bloc because it felt the new law did not go far enough, and the Democratic and Social Center/ People’s Party, which thought it went too far – but they were fairly marginal, and they still did not actually vote against the law.66 Overall, the Portuguese case illustrates nicely the argument of this chapter. When debates about citizenship policy remain on the elite level, and when there are no organized and mobilized far right forces to contend with, the outcome is usually greater liberalization. While immigration and integration are important social, economic, and political issues in Portugal, they have not entered into the electoral debate. Coincidentally, the parliamentary discussions and vote on the most recent policy changes coincided with the presidential election in January 2006 – won by Aníbal António Cavaco Silva, the candidate of the center-right Social Democratic Party – but once again citizenship reform was not an issue in the campaign. In short, the 2006 citizenship policy reform in Portugal represents a relatively uncontested elite-led promotion of inclusion and rights through the extension of citizenship to immigrants .

The Politics of Liberalizing Change A comparative analysis of these five cases of liberalizing change brings several common factors to the fore. First, international factors played a role in all of the cases, but they were generally fi ltered through a domestic lens. There was certainly a general sense that these countries had citizenship laws that were relatively behind the times, in need of “modernization” in order to catch up with both other European countries and the demographic realities in their own countries. The Council of Europe’s 1997 “European Convention on Nationality” clearly stated that the winds were blowing in the direction of accepting full dual citizenship. Luxembourg had been reprimanded on several occasions by the European Court of Justice in the late 1990s. And whereas previously the Nordic countries had worked closely 65 66

Ibid. Ibid.

Liberalizing Change

91

together on matters of citizenship, keeping a restrictive policy across the board, when Sweden broke through in 2001, this enabled Finland to liberalize its law much more easily in 2003. Nonetheless, domestic factors played a crucial role. As with all European countries – albeit to varying degrees and in different ways – governments in these five liberalizing countries were struggling to cope with expanding immigrant populations within a normative framework that emphasizes human rights and dignity, along with low birth rates and the impending crisis of the pension systems. Sweden’s immigrants constitute about 5.3 percent of the total population, slightly higher than the 4.3 percent in the Netherlands, and considerably higher than Portugal’s 2.3 percent and Finland’s 2.1 percent, but still nowhere near Luxembourg’s 40 percent immigrant population (a figure that is anomalous throughout Europe). In all five cases, an important part of the political discussion was to fi nd a manageable and fair solution that would benefit immigrants without harming national interests. In Sweden, Finland, Portugal, the Netherlands (at least in the 1990s), and Luxembourg (since 2008) it was deemed not only that dual citizenship might not be a threat, but that it could actually help to foster greater integration of immigrants into their societies. In any case, it seems that the general “postnational” norm of “universal personhood” was an enabling, albeit indirect, pressure that played a role in the liberalization process.67 Much more significant, and direct, were the political dynamics between the center-left and center-right parties in all five countries. In Sweden, Finland, and Portugal, the liberalizing reforms were passed by left-ofcenter governments, which typically favor increasing the rights of immigrants (what Joppke calls “deethnicization”68). And in these three cases the center-right parties went along with the proposals, but made sure that their primary emphasis on providing their expatriates with dual citizenship rights (“reethnicization”) was included in the new law. These cases certainly support the general argument that major reforms on immigration are proposed and carried out by the left. The cases of Luxembourg and the Netherlands are a bit more complicated since their liberalizing reforms were carried out by a center-right and a grand coalition government, respectively. But it should be recalled that Luxembourg’s long-standing debates about its citizenship law, and the multiple changes that had taken place since the 67

68

Yasemin Nuhoglu Soysal, Limits of Citizenship: Migrants and Postnational Membership in Europe (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994). Joppke, “Citizenship between De- and Re-Ethnicization.”

92

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

country’s founding in 1839, had generally followed the predictable pattern. And as discussed in the case study, the reforms that were instituted in 2001 and 2008 were also a compromise between political forces on the left and right, since the liberalizing measures were partially offset by a tightening of the language requirement. And in the Netherlands in the 1990s (before the mobilization of anti-immigrant forces on the far right), the parties on the center-left were generally much more supportive of extending dual citizenship, whereas the center-right parties tended to oppose it. In this sense, while the process of reform in Luxembourg and the Netherlands did not fit the neat pattern of Sweden, Finland, and Portugal, the parties on the left and right nonetheless made the same types of arguments that are typically attributed to those parties in other countries and contexts. As for the levels of involvement by society, Luxembourg and Portugal stand out in that they included very limited debate outside the elite level. In Sweden there was somewhat more discussion preceding the reform, but the process took place within the established traditions of consensus politics, with very little expressed opposition. A much more open and active involvement of societal actors took place in Finland, where multiple agencies and groups were provided an opportunity to comment on the proposed law before it was passed, and most were largely supportive of the liberalization. And in the Netherlands, while still an elite-controlled process (in the 1990s), the issue received considerable public exposure and engendered increasingly vociferous debates, thus planting the seeds for mobilization of the far right and the “restrictive backlash” that has taken place in the 2000s. Overall, though, the debates preceding the liberalization process in all five countries took place in a relatively calm and consensus-oriented environment, with the driving role played by political elites. The most decisive factor, however, which will be further borne out by the comparison to the cases of restrictive continuity that are explored in Chapter 5, was the absence of far right mobilization on this issue. As shown in Table 4.1, the far right is virtually nonexistent in Sweden, Finland, Luxembourg, and Portugal, and it was extremely weak in the Netherlands in the 1990s and in Germany (which receives separate, more detailed treatment in Chapter 6). In short, even though the anti-immigrant sentiment is neither stronger nor weaker in these cases than in other countries (as shown in Chapter 3), the five case studies in this chapter show that the lack of an organized anti-immigrant force allowed the general pressures for liberalization to reach fruition in each country’s new, more liberal, citizenship policy.

Liberalizing Change

93

Table 4.1. The Electoral Strength of Far Right Parties in the Cases of Liberalizing Change Country Finland Germany Luxembourg Netherlands (1990s) Portugal Sweden

Average electoral strength, 1992–2006 (%) 0 2.3 0 1.5 0.1 0.7

Source: Data provided by Christopher Wendt, who has compiled far right party results from various sources.

The argument so far is incomplete. While this chapter has identified the pressures for liberalization and has shown how the process was carried out in the absence of an organized far right force that could represent the underlying anti-immigrant sentiment, the next challenge is to demonstrate how these same pressures were blocked by effective far right parties in the cases of restrictive continuity.

5 Restrictive Continuity Austria, Denmark, Italy, Spain, and Greece

Introduction This chapter focuses on five countries that have historically restrictive citizenship laws, but – unlike Sweden, Finland, and Luxembourg – have not liberalized their policies. There are notable differences, however, among these countries of restrictive continuity. As shown in Chapter 3, three of the countries – Austria, Denmark, and Italy – have very strong and influential far right parties, whereas the other two – Spain and Greece – are devoid of such a mobilizing force. By conducting “structured, focused comparisons,”1 this chapter attempts to spell out those distinctions in further detail, showing in particular how the politics of citizenship followed a similar pattern in the fi rst set of countries. In all three cases, the far right became mobilized on the issue of citizenship, and the mainstream parties adapted by shifting their own messages to the right, thus effectively removing citizenship liberalization from the political agenda. In contrast, the analysis of Spain and Greece – which have also not liberalized, but for different reasons – seeks to assess the potential for future liberalizing change in both countries. As in Chapter 4, this chapter presents “mini-case studies” of each of the five countries, in order to show the nature of the political debates that took place, and in particular to specify how the larger international trend toward citizenship liberalization was blocked or avoided. The concluding section of the chapter draws the main points from the individual cases into a comparative framework that allows for an assessment of this book’s

1

Alexander L. George and Andrew Bennett, Case Studies and Theory Development in the Social Sciences (Cambridge: MIT Press, 2005), pp. 67–72.

94

Restrictive Continuity

95

argument about the causal impact of an organized political mobilization of anti-immigrant sentiment.

Austria Austria has long had one of the most restrictive citizenship policies in Europe, with Citizenship Policy Index (CPI) scores of 0.50 in the 1980s, and dropping down to 0 in 2008 as a result of the new language requirements. The core principle has consistently been jus sanguinis, although historically Austria even made a further distinction between national citizenship and Heimatrecht, or the “right of abode in a municipality,” such that one could not become a naturalized Austrian citizen without fi rst having secured unconditional residence in a community.2 Another distinctive feature of Austria’s citizenship tradition has been the federal policy of Landesbürgerschaft, or provincial citizenship, whereby the 1920 Constitution established that the federal state would legislate citizenship, but each of the nine provinces would administer it. Although federal citizenship was introduced in the Nationality Law of 1945, regional disparities in the application of citizenship policy over the past half-century continue to exist, leading to numerous efforts to reform and adapt the laws and their implementation.3 The core components of the 1945 law were the explicit opposition to dual citizenship, for both immigrants and emigrants, and a lengthy ten-year residency requirement for naturalization, along with several other conditions such as the absence of a criminal record and a relationship with the immigrant’s home country (if such involvement could damage Austria’s interests). And while the law has since been amended multiple times – mainly to reduce gender disparities, in accordance with European norms and agreements – the essence of the law remains virtually unchanged today . This is not to suggest that citizenship has not been politicized in Austria – quite the contrary; as Çinar and Waldrauch argue, “the amendment of nationality legislation became a hotly debated issue.”4 As in most European countries, Austria experienced a number of liberalizing pressures in the 1990s, and a left-of-center government was poised to increase the rights and opportunities of long-term immigrants. Moreover, an economic boom 2

3 4

Dilek Çinar and Harald Waldrauch, “Austria,” in Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, Volume 2, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Eva Ersbøll, Kees Groenendijk, and Harald Waldrauch (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2006), p. 23. Ibid., p. 24. Ibid., p. 21.

96

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

in the late 1980s and early 1990s led to an increase in the number of foreign workers (from 5.4% in 1988 to 9% in 1992), thus creating an indirect demographic pressure to reach a new solution on immigration and integration.5 And while the asylum crisis of the early 1990s led the Social Democratic (SPÖ) government to restrict immigration levels – as was the case in most countries that were receiving large numbers of asylum seekers – by means of a new Residence Law in 1992–1993, amendments in 1995 and 1997 also sought to help better integrate foreign residents . Moreover, the Aliens Act of 1997 created a principle of “consolidated residence,” which had the purpose of providing “increased security of residence and protection against expulsion.”6 In other words, the goal at the time was certainly to support the rights and facilitate the integration of immigrants, and in that sense the domestic conditions in Austria did not necessarily seem very different from those in Sweden, Finland, or Luxembourg. On the international level, the Council of Europe’s 1997 “European Convention on Nationality” was clearly intended to open the door to liberalization – at least on the issue of dual citizenship – by supplanting the Council’s 1963 “Convention on the Reduction of Cases of Multiple Nationality.”7 And the “postnational” norms of universal personhood had made it increasingly difficult to ignore the human rights imperative in the treatment of immigrants who were already residing in their host countries. Yet citizenship liberalization did not occur in Austria, and the main reason has to do with the transformation and strengthening of the far right Freedom Party (FPÖ). The FPÖ, which had been in existence for decades as a liberal free market party, gradually turned into a far right anti-immigrant party after Jörg Haider took over the leadership position in 1986.8 The FPÖ’s electoral success increased significantly over the course of the 1990s, and it began to exert direct political influence in 1996, when the party actually defeated the long-dominant SPÖ that year in the elections for EU Parliament, as well as the city parliament of Vienna – the capital, where the 5 6 7

8

Ibid., p. 38. Ibid., p. 38. http://conventions.coe.int/Treaty/en/Treaties/Html/166.htm (accessed May 24, 2009). For more on this change, see Marc Morjé Howard, “Variation in Dual Citizenship Policies in the Countries of the EU,” International Migration Review 39, no. 3 (2005): 697–720. For more on the rise of the FPÖ, including a discussion of its joining a governing coalition with the ÖVP after the 1999 elections, which led to a diplomatic boycott by the other fourteen EU countries, see Marc Morjé Howard, “Can Populism Be Suppressed in a Democracy? Austria, Germany, and the European Union,” East European Politics and Societies 15, no. 1 (2001): 18–32.

Restrictive Continuity

97

issue of naturalization was particularly explosive.9 The center-right Austrian People’s Party (ÖVP) then began to move to the right in an attempt to capture votes back from the FPÖ. While the SPÖ stayed out of the debate, the FPÖ and ÖVP competed over their anti-immigration rhetoric in 1997, as the various parties sought to propose a new Nationality Law to replace the 1985 law.10 The ÖVP, for example, claimed that Austrian citizenship is a “valuable good” that should not be provided to foreigners who do not have the “will to integration.”11 And the FPÖ proposed a number of restrictive measures, including “a new constitutional provision … stating that Austria is not an immigration country,” as well as very low naturalization quotas for each province, and the right of “each Austrian national” to object decisively to the level of integration of each applicant.12 While the SPÖ was silent on the issue, choosing not to put forward a counter-proposal, the two parties further to the left – the Greens and the Liberal Party (ILF) – proposed a significant liberalization of the law, including lowering the residency requirement to five years, instituting double jus soli, and accepting dual citizenship for immigrants.13 Overall, however, despite several different views and proposals, the parliamentary debate was dominated by the FPÖ, whose representatives heckled the other plans, and

9

10

11 12 13

When under social democratic control in the early 1990s, the provincial government in Vienna took advantage of the discretion granted to the provinces to offer naturalization to immigrants who had resided there for only four years but who could demonstrate “special reasons.” The number of naturalizations for special reasons increased from 735 to 2,028 between 1989 and 1994. Some 63% to 80% of facilitated naturalizations in all of Austria occurred in Vienna. Moreover, 16% to 26% of all naturalizations in Vienna between 1985 and 1998 were for “special reasons,” compared with between 9% and 17% in all the other provinces. Çinar and Waldrauch, “Austria,” pp. 40, 43. As Çinar and Waldrauch explain, “From the mid-1980s … Austria’s political landscape – dominated by Conservatives and Social Democrats – underwent a major transformation due to the rapid rise of the right-wing Freedom Party as well as increasing support for the Greens. The impact of this reconfiguration was, among other things, the politicisation of questions related to immigration, identity and citizenship. The steady growth of voters opting for the Freedom Party combined with the federal structure of the Austrian political system eventually triggered a political competition among the federal provinces to be more restrictive with respect to the naturalisation of immigrants. While the Social Democratic Party failed to participate with self-confidence in the debate on the meaning of citizenship and conditions for membership in the Austrian polity, their then coalition partner, the Conservatives [ÖVP], successfully enforced the claim for a more restrictive naturalization policy and the introduction of knowledge of German language proficiency as a condition of naturalisation.” Çinar and Waldrauch, “Austria,” pp. 50–51. Der Standard, October 12/13, 1996, p. 27. Çinar and Waldrauch, “Austria,” p. 41. Ibid., p. 41.

98

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

the other parties allowed the FPÖ to put itself at the center of the debate by repeatedly referring to the FPÖ and its position.14 In the end, the “grand coalition” SPÖ-ÖVP government presented a joint draft bill in May 1998, and the new Austrian Citizenship Act came into force in January 1999. In essence, the new law was a capitulation to the forces on the right. Jus sanguinis remained fi rmly ensconced, as did “the avoidance of multiple nationality.”15 And the requirements for naturalization have become even more restrictive after an amendment was passed in December 2005: the ten-year residency requirement must now have been legal the entire time, without any crime convictions or even repeated traffic violations; the integration requirement has been tightened, including a German language course of over 300 hours (up from 100 hours according to the 2002 Aliens Law); and fees for naturalization applications have been “raised drastically,” making them “the highest among the fi fteen ‘old’ EU states.”16 The Austrian case provides an excellent example of the political power of far right mobilization against citizenship reform. Although the domestic and international climate in 1995 seemed relatively propitious for liberalization, and the Social Democratic-led coalition government spoke out in favor of it, the rise of the FPÖ, which campaigned almost exclusively on an anti-immigrant platform, effectively prevented any reform – and it actually led to an even more restrictive policy today. The far right forces managed to tap into the reserves of xenophobic sentiments in the general population, to energize voters, and to give them an outlet for their frustrations. Meanwhile, the mainstream parties, particularly the center-right ÖVP, moved to the right accordingly, thus ensuring the blocking of citizenship liberalization. In short, had the citizenship issue not galvanized the population and the political process, it is quite possible that – like Sweden, Finland, and Luxembourg – Austria would have a more liberal citizenship policy today. But the political mobilization of the far right managed to trump those liberalizing forces. And while the FPÖ has lost a great deal of support in recent years – dropping from 27 percent in 1999 to 10 percent in 2002 – having

14

15 16

Alice Ludvig, “Why Should Austria Be Different from Germany? The Two Recent Nationality Reforms in Contrast,” German Politics 13, no. 3 (2004): 499–515. Also see Michael Minkenberg, “The Radical Right in Public Office: Agenda-Setting and Policy Effects,” West European Politics 24, no. 4 (2001): 1–21. Çinar and Waldrauch, “Austria,” p. 41. Ibid., pp. 52–53.

Restrictive Continuity

99

seen what happened in the late 1990s, the other parties are unlikely to raise the issue of citizenship liberalization in the foreseeable future.

Denmark The overall story in Denmark is similar to that of Austria, although there are historical and institutional particularities in each case. Denmark was not always as restrictive as Austria historically, but like Austria, its CPI score dropped – from 1.43 in the 1980s to 0 in 2008. This decline occurred as a result of the lengthening of Denmark’s residency requirement for both immigrant and spousal naturalization, as well as the addition of new language and civics requirements. In Denmark, citizenship law developed from the concept of infødsret, a status – institutionalized in the 1776 Infødsret Act, and reaffi rmed by the fi rst Danish Constitution of 1849 – that identified native-born residents as the only people eligible to hold electoral rights.17 This represented a qualified form of jus soli, based on birth in the country and residence there until the age of eighteen. Since emigration from Denmark was high in the midnineteenth century, an amendment was made in 1871 to ensure that Danes who naturalized abroad would lose the benefits of infødsret – thus beginning a long-standing opposition to all forms of dual citizenship, which continues to this day. And an 1898 reform introduced national citizenship based on the principles of jus sanguinis, as Denmark sought to align its policies with those of other Nordic countries.18 A crucial institutional feature that distinguishes Denmark from other countries, and that has shaped recent and contemporary debates about Danish citizenship, involves the policy of naturalization by statute, whereby each applicant’s acceptance must be passed in a law by Parliament.19 Partly as a result of this policy, citizenship has been a hotly debated and contested political issue for several decades. While the citizenship law was reformed in 1925 and 1950, and then amended in 1968 – mainly in cooperation with the other Nordic countries to remove gender inequalities – it again emerged as a contentious political issue in 1976. At that time, the Danish Progress Party, one of the first significant 17

18

19

Eva Ersbøll, “Denmark,” in Bauböck et al., eds., Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, pp. 109–110. Also see Eva Ersbøll, “Nationality Law in Denmark, Finland and Sweden,” in Towards a European Nationality: Citizenship, Immigration, and Nationality Law in the EU, edited by Randall Hansen and Patrick Weil (New York: Palgrave, 2001), pp. 230–254. Ersbøll, “Denmark,” p. 106.

100

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

far right parties in Europe, objected to the naturalization of a single applicant and proposed an amendment to the act in order to exclude that individual.20 Whereas previously the process had been rather routine, the Progress Party’s action effectively opened the door to the Parliament’s right to contest the naturalization of applicants who had satisfied all the legal requirements. Over the ensuing three decades, the political and public attention to parliamentary naturalizations has only increased. The process took place in a series of gradual steps, usually instigated by the Progress Party. Even though the Progress Party usually had under 10 percent of the vote, it remained active and influential on the issue of naturalization, as its leaders suggested various amendments to exclude certain applicants either because of “crimes, public debt, or ‘insufficient knowledge of the Danish language .’”21 Meanwhile, the other parties moved to the right on this issue – most likely as an attempt to capture some of the Progress Party’s electorate and influence.22 While the center-left parties have, in general, tended to view naturalization as part of the integration process “and crucial to integration,” those on the right argued vociferously that naturalization was the culmination of integration, or “the most precious gift from the Danish people to foreigners who apply for it and deserve it – after having completed a process of integration.”23 The ideological positions of, and political dynamics between, the center-left, center-right, and far right closely fit the general pattern developed in Chapter 3. By the time of the 1998 elections, the debate over immigrant integration had taken center stage. The Progress Party split into two separate parties, one of which renamed itself the Danish People’s Party and took on a virulently anti-immigrant platform.24 In 1999, the People’s Party pushed 20 21 22

23 24

Ibid., p. 124. Ibid., p. 125. See also Tor Bjørklund and Jørgen Goul Andersen, “Anti-Immigration Parties in Denmark and Norway: The Progress Parties and the Danish People’s Party,” in Shadows over Europe: The Development and Impact of the Extreme Right in Western Europe, edited by Martin Schain, Aristide Zolberg, and Patrick Hossay (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2002), pp. 107–136; Jørgen Goul Andersen and Tor Bjørklund, “Radical Right-Wing Populism in Scandinavia: From Tax Revolt to Neo-Liberalism and Xenophobia,” in The Politics of the Extreme Right, edited by Paul Hainsworth (New York: Pinter, 2000), pp. 193–223; Lars Svåsand, “Scandinavian Right-Wing Radicalism,” in The New Politics of the Right: Neo-Populist Parties and Movements in Established Democracies, edited by Hans-Georg Betz and Stefan Immerfall (New York: St. Martin’s, 1998), pp. 77–94. Ersbøll, “Denmark,” p. 131. As Anders Widfeldt notes, “The differences of these two parties are more rooted in personal rivalries than any particular political stance.” Anders Widfeldt, “Scandinavia: Mixed Success for the Populist Right,” Parliamentary Affairs 53 (2000): 491.

Restrictive Continuity

101

a proposal to abolish all naturalization by declaration.25 Although it was not successful, this move forced the mainstream parties to the right. The 2001 elections focused primarily on “refugee and immigration issues,” and even mainstream parties like the center-right Liberals campaigned on a determinedly anti-immigrant platform.26 The campaign rhetoric of the People’s Party was the most extreme, as one of its leaders “warned against ‘replacement’ of the Danish population and the creation of a ‘multi-ethnic society.’”27 This debate occurred as many Social Democrats were continually split over the issue of immigration, a division that proved to be devastating to the party, as the issue was therefore essentially relinquished to the forces on the right. As a result, the 2001 election campaign tended to refer to all immigrants as a “problem.”28 In the end, all immigration-friendly parties except the Social Liberals lost votes during the campaign . The consequence of the 2001 elections was a rapid and quite restrictive policy change.29 Although the People’s Party is not an official part of the ruling coalition, the minority government relies heavily on its informal support to pass legislation on matters related to immigration and citizenship.30 In June 2002, the Liberals, Conservatives, and People’s Party agreed to a circular on naturalization, which was passed with the narrow majority of these three parties, against the opposition Socialist People’s Party, Social Liberals, Red-Green Alliance, and Christian People’s Party. The terms of the act include the following revisions: (1) applicants for naturalization have to sign a loyalty oath; (2) the residence requirement has increased by two years (to nine years for non-Nordic applicants); (3) a sentence to imprisonment would further increase one’s waiting period; (4) overdue public debt 25

26

27 28

29

30

The People’s Party’s platform is that “Denmark is not, and has never been, an immigration country and the Danish People’s Party objects to Denmark developing a multi-ethnic society.” See Widfeldt, “Scandinavia,” p. 490. “Under the slogan ‘time for change,’ the Liberals wooed voters by pledging tough new rules to control the immigrant population.” Andrew Osborn, “Danish Voters Swing to the Right,” The Guardian, November 21, 2001. Also see “Denmark Set to Tighten Asylum and Immigration Laws,” Deutsche Presse Agentur, January 17, 2002. Ersbøll, “Denmark,” p. 131. Eric Pytel and Kristana Roper, “The Impact of Immigration on Danish Politics: The Rise of Populism and the Fall of Social Democracy,” Critique (Spring 2002): 6. Mads Qvortrup, “The Emperor’s New Clothes: The Danish General Election 20 November 2001,” West European Politics 5, no. 2 (2002): 205–211. As Prime Minister Anders Fogh Rasmussen, from the Liberal Party, explains, “In order to be a government, one needs consensus on all important issues, both domestic and international. The Folkparti [People’s Party] has a totally different view of Denmark’s participation in the EU than we have. That makes it impossible for them to join us in the government.” “Focus on Danish Immigration Policy Following Elections,” BBC, February 16, 2005.

102

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

would disqualify an applicant entirely; and (5) all applicants must pass a test to prove their “knowledge of the Danish language, society, culture and history.”31 Moreover, a new amendment to the Aliens Act in 2002 ended the automatic right of entry of a spouse, thereby creating a bizarre situation whereby many international couples have to live in the Swedish town of Malmo, and to cross the newly nicknamed “Love Bridge” in order to work in Copenhagen.32 With this change, virtually all of the proposals of the People’s Party had been adopted, with two exceptions: fi rst, the People’s Party had sought to repeal the right of second-generation immigrants to receive Danish citizenship by declaration; and second, the party wanted to add a clause that can retroactively remove the Danish citizenship of naturalized Danes who had subsequently committed a crime. Yet, as further demonstration of the extraordinary influence of the People’s Party on matters of immigration and citizenship, the second of these proposals was later adopted into law in 2004 . Unlike the countries where citizenship reform was not a politicized issue, and where the general liberalizing pressures of international norms and treaties, as well as domestic and demographic factors, have led to at least a consideration of policy liberalization, Denmark not only has remained one of the most restrictive countries, but has actually become considerably more hostile to immigrants over the past few decades. And it has ignored or rejected rather harsh criticism from the international community, including Sweden, the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, and the Council of Europe’s Human Rights Commissioner.33 In fact, Prime Minister Rasmussen has stated that Denmark’s immigration policies not only are good for Denmark, but can serve as a model for other countries: “It’s clear to me that other countries have followed, and will follow our lead .”34 What accounts for Denmark’s resistance to the Nordic move toward citizenship liberalization? An important factor is certainly the institutional procedures that allow political parties to decide whether or not to approve of individual naturalizations. But even more crucial is the powerful influence of the far right parties on the political debate and process. 31 32 33

34

Ersbøll, “Denmark,” p. 129. “Focus on Danish Immigration Policy Following Elections.” The Council of Europe’s human rights commissioner, Álvaro Gil-Robles, criticized Danish rules on family reunification on the basis that the rules contravene the right to a family life. “Danish Integration Law to Be Tested in Court,” BBC, July 20, 2004. Clare McCarthy, “Premier Stands by Tough Line on Immigration ahead of Poll,” Financial Times, February 8, 2005, p. 7.

Restrictive Continuity

103

As Ersbøll writes, “the party composition of the legislature during these last decades seems to have been decisive,” and the Danish People’s Party – the successor to the Danish Progress Party – has “succeeded in carrying through the policy,” while the center-left forces have remained divided and ineffective .35 The current situation shows little sign of changing. The 2005 elections reaffi rmed the popular support for the current government and its policies. The People’s Party received over 13 percent of the popular vote, its highest level of support to date, and its influence on government policy on matters related to immigration and citizenship continues to be considerably greater than the number of votes or parliamentary seats it receives. In December 2005, the government concluded an agreement with the People’s Party, tightening the conduct requirement, adding a new nationality test on Danish culture, history, society, raising the language requirement to Danish Education Level 3 rather than 2, and removing exemptions from the language requirement and special treatment for victims of post-traumatic stress disorder. Moreover, according to this law, applicants must have been self-sufficient (without receiving any welfare benefits) for four of the previous five years.36 These changes will clearly make Denmark’s citizenship even more restrictive. In other words, as a result of the remarkably successful mobilization of Denmark’s latent anti-immigrant popular sentiment, the country’s citizenship policies present a classic case of restrictive continuity. Indeed, the far right forces have been so effective in Denmark that they have managed to add further restrictions to an already quite restrictive policy.

Italy Italy differs from Austria and Denmark in two key respects. First, Italy’s citizenship law actually did change in the post–Cold War period, when the center-right government passed the 1992 Nationality Law. As explained below, however, the reform was mixed, as it introduced both liberalization on the issue of dual citizenship and restrictiveness in the form of more difficult naturalization requirements for immigrants – resulting in a slight increase in Italy’s CPI score, from 0.72 to 1.5. Second, Italy’s history as a country of mass emigration has long shaped its identity and its citizenship policy, and even though net immigration began to exceed emigration 35 36

Ersbøll, “Denmark,” pp. 141–142. Ibid., p. 132.

104

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

beginning in the 1980s, the country’s policies are still geared toward dealing with expatriates and “ethnic Italians,” rather than with integrating foreign immigrants into Italian society. This special attention to ethnic Italians can best be understood in the context of Italy’s national history.37 In the 1860s, as the central state was attempting to unite and establish authority over vastly different cities and regions, it developed naturalization procedures that were greatly simplified for ethnic Italians as compared with other groups. Moreover, expatriates from Italy to the surrounding Austrian-held territory were encouraged to keep their Italian citizenship.38 After the mass emigration of Italians between 1861 and the fi rst decade of the twentieth century, Italy lost many of its nationals to host countries that allowed them to naturalize and gave their children citizenship by jus soli. As a result, the fi rst major Italian citizenship reform of 1912 focused on repatriating emigrants by simplifying the process of reacquisition of citizenship (made automatic after two years of residence) and reasserting jus sanguinis.39 In some cases, the 1912 law also permitted dual citizenship for Italian expatriates, through bilateral agreements with specific host countries.40 As did most countries, Italy reformed its citizenship laws in the postwar period in order to conform to the norms of gender equality as embodied in international treaties. The more noteworthy change took place in 1992, as the new Nationality Law included provisions that affected both foreign immigrants to Italy and especially the descendants of past waves of Italian emigrants. The 1992 law set the minimum threshold for being considered of Italian origin at a very low level – having just one Italian grandparent – and the residency requirements for such ethnic Italians was set at just two years, thereby encouraging large numbers of people to “reacquire” Italian citizenship through this simplified process.41 Moreover, dual citizenship became the official policy, both for these newly ethnic Italians and for nonItalian immigrants . While the acceptance of dual citizenship for immigrants may seem like an important liberalization of Italy’s formerly restrictive citizenship policy, the situation is actually much more complicated. The 1992 reform increased 37

38

39 40 41

Mathias Koenig-Archibugi, “National and European Citizenship: The Italian Case in Historical Perspective,” Citizenship Studies 7, no. 1 (2003): 85–109. Marta Arena, Bruno Nascimbene, and Giovanna Zincone, “Italy,” in Bauböck et al., eds., Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, p. 337. Ibid., p. 338. Ibid., p. 342. Ibid., p. 342.

Restrictive Continuity

105

the minimum residence for naturalization from five to ten years for non-EU citizens. It also added the requirement for people born in Italy to foreign parents to have lived in Italy uninterruptedly for eighteen years and to have been living there legally the entire time.42 Given that naturalization rates in Italy are already the second lowest in Europe (after Luxembourg),43 the incorporation of dual citizenship for immigrants therefore does not actually affect many people. For immigrants, in other words, “the 1992 law was an objective step backwards,”44 as Arena, Nascimbene, and Zincone write, and “has turned out to be ill-suited for the acquisition of nationality by long-term documented residents, their children, refugees and asylum seekers. Such discrepancies are becoming increasingly serious as the number of second-generation immigrants grows, and this will need to be solved by a new reform.”45 In short, on closer examination, the 1992 reform was clearly intended to help co-ethnics and expatriates, rather than to address the problem of immigrant integration.46 Although the process of adopting and implementing citizenship reform in Italy was distinct from other cases, the political process surrounding the debates on the Italian citizenship law was similar to those of Austria and Denmark. A spark for the 1992 reform came, perhaps paradoxically, from a liberalizing immigration policy that was passed in 1990 known as the Martelli Law, named after Claudio Martelli, the Deputy Prime Minister from the Socialist Party. The Martelli law was Italy’s fi rst comprehensive policy for the regulation of immigrants. Illegal immigrants were granted legal status, and Italy formally accepted its role as being a main entry point for non-European refugees. Moreover, in addition to the international pressures for liberalization that have influenced all European countries, a number of organized interests – including trade unions, the Catholic charity Caritas, the Vatican, and several political parties on the left – formed an “Anti-Racist Pact” to support immigrant rights .47 42 43

44 45 46

47

Ibid., p. 332. Ferruccio Pastore, “Nationality Law and International Migration: The Italian Case,” in Towards a European Nationality: Citizenship, Immigration and Nationality Law in the EU, edited by Patrick Weil and Randall Hansen (London: Palgrave, 2001), p. 106. Arena et al., “Italy,” p. 345. Ibid., p. 344. As Arena et al., write, “Italy used to look to the past more and more often, behaving as if it were still and mainly a country of emigration, and therefore interested in keeping and reacquiring Italian emigrants abroad as pleno jure members of its political community.” Ibid., pp. 357–358. “The anti-racist movement was capable of organizing enormous national demonstrations in Rome on both 7 October 1989 and 25 January 1992 against racism and for a

106

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

Yet rather than pave the way for increasing liberalization and greater efforts to integrate immigrants, the Martelli Law engendered a strong backlash that turned things in the opposite direction. The law coincided with a period when the Italian political party system was undergoing tremendous transformation – even by chaotic Italian standards – after the end of the Cold War. And the ensuing influx of asylum seekers only increased the already high levels of xenophobic sentiments among ordinary Italians,48 as several newly emergent political parties espoused anti-immigrant platforms. Many of the established parties followed suit: as the effectiveness of this strategy became apparent, the anti-immigrant parties became “allied with other political forces.”49 The government at the time was dominated by the Christian Democratic party (DC), which was not particularly vocal on the issue of immigration reform.50 The initial impetus for the more restrictive 1992 legislation resulted from the Lega Nord (LN) party of Umberto Bossi, who foisted his regionalist-populist party into the national political spotlight. The LN took a strong stance against the Martelli Law, which Bossi saw as being too generous to third-world immigrants.51 The intensive discussion about the Martelli Law made some Italians feel that “the government has been ‘doing too much’ for immigrants … . This has encouraged the Leagues to express clear xenophobic and racist positions. Indeed the Lombard League of Bossi has announced its intention to collect signatures to abolish Law 39 .”52 Meanwhile, the Alleanza Nazionale (AN), the successor party to the postfascist Italian Social Movement (MSI), ran successfully on a platform in favor of policies that were more restrictive toward immigrants .

48

49 50

51 52

multicultural society. It can count on the support of different political forces.” Giovanna Campani, “Immigration and Racism in Southern Europe: The Italian Case,” Ethnic and Racial Studies 16, no. 3 (1993): 521. Also see Celestine Bohlen, “Italy Rebuked by Vatican over Migrants,” New York Times, November 20, 1995, p. A7; Ted Perlmutter, “Political Parties and Interest Groups in Italy, 1990–1994,” paper presented at the conference “Explaining Changes in Migration Policy: Debates from Different Perspectives,” University of Geneva, October 27–28, 2000. “The number of foreigners in Italy is still relatively small – less than 2 percent of the population. But waves of illegal immigrants from North Africa and Eastern Europe have started to overwhelm the authorities.” See “Italy Proposes Legislation to Curb Immigrant Influx,” New York Times, February 16, 1997, p. 15L. Campani, “Immigration and Racism in Southern Europe,” p. 519. An article profi ling Muslim-Italians identified that “immigration is not yet an electoral issue, although it is a political one.” Charles Richards, “Muslims View Poll as Outsiders,” Independent (London), April 4, 1992. “A League of their Own,” Economist, July 21, 1990. Campani, “Immigration and Racism in Southern Europe,” p. 525.

Restrictive Continuity

107

The political exploitation of anti-immigrant sentiment continued to increase over the next decade. In 1994, Silvio Berlusconi’s “Freedom Alliance” coalition, which included his Forza Italia party alongside the Northern League and the National Alliance, formed a government. While it would later fall due to corruption charges, and Berlusconi would not make the fi rst of his two comebacks until 2001, all subsequent governments – regardless of political orientation – have continued to pass tough legislation. As the Economist put it, even those on the left “have found common cause with the federalist Northern League and … the post-fascist National Alliance.”53 This is not to suggest that the traditional left-right distinction did not apply in the Italian case. In fact, in the past decade and a half, the parties on the left have occasionally proposed liberalizing legislation, such as reducing the residency requirement for non-EU immigrants, and while in power in 1999, they even drafted a reform proposal that would have established double jus soli for third-generation immigrants. But such liberalization measures, along with the idea of allowing noncitizens to vote in local elections, were not high on the agenda of the center-left government, and neither reform was pursued in the end.54 Until relatively recently, the Italian left seemed to have abandoned citizenship reform, mainly because of the strength of the far right and its “using migration policies as an instrument of electoral competition.”55 As a result, not only did the left back down on its liberalizing proposals, but it actually moved considerably to the right. The far right parties successfully imposed their agenda on this issue, leaving very little contrast between the different parties, with only muted political disagreement and debate. But the April 2006 elections produced a new center-left government, and to the surprise of many, in August of that same year, the new Prime Minister Romano Prodi proposed wide-ranging legislation that would legalize the status of hundreds of thousands of immigrants, reduce the residency requirement for naturalization from ten to five years, and introduce jus soli for the children of legal immigrants.56 However, writing in late 2006 – as the parties on the right indicated that they were prepared to fight against the proposal – Arena, Nascimbene, and Zincone conclude that it is “very doubtful that the co-ethnic attitude of the Italian legislation will change 53 54 55 56

“No Room at Europe’s Inn,” Economist, December 9, 1995. Arena et al., “Italy,” p. 348. Ibid., p. 349. Elisabetta Povoledo, “Easier Now to Become an Italian,” International Herald Tribune, August 4, 2006.

108

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

in the near future.”57 This prediction proved to be prescient. Not only did the Prodi government collapse in less than two years without managing to implement the proposal, but the ensuing elections in April 2008 resulted in the victory of Berlusconi, who promptly formed a government that includes influential far right parties. Moreover, the new Berlusconi government has proposed new measures that could yield further restrictions on naturalization.58 Although anything is possible in Italian politics, it is highly unlikely that citizenship liberalization will be on the agenda anytime soon.

Spain Spain resembles Italy in several ways, although there are some important differences between the two countries as well. Both have historically been countries of emigration, and their priority has therefore been to maintain connections with their émigrés abroad. As a result of the breadth of Spanish colonialism, however, the descendents of Spanish émigrés are scattered in numerous countries all over the world, with a particular concentration in Latin America. Over the course of the many reforms to the citizenship policy embodied in the Civil Code of 1889, Spain has made it progressively easier to retain or regain Spanish citizenship after emigration. In particular, a relationship has developed between Spain and the countries of Latin America to ensure dual citizenship through bilateral agreements.59 As Ruth Rubio-Marín points out, “Spain has traditionally considered nationals of some countries as forming part of a joint cultural community and acknowledges a certain historical debt towards some other communities .”60 Although some other European states maintain special relationships with other countries with whom they have certain linguistic, geographic, and historical affi nities, Spain’s ties are more intricate and extensive.61 57 58 59

60

61

Arena et al., “Italy,” p. 360. Giovanna Zincone, personal communication, June 2008. Francisco Javier Moreno Fuentes, “Migration and Spanish Nationality Law,” in Weil and Hansen, eds., Towards a European Nationality, pp. 118–142. Ruth Rubio-Marín, “Spain,” in Bauböck et al., eds., Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, p. 479. Spain is very similar to Portugal in this regard, and they are both part of what Christian Joppke calls the “southwestern postcolonial constellation.” But Spain’s use of “historicalcultural links” is even broader than Portugal’s, given both the wider territory that was once under Spanish influence and a more general focus on cultural connection rather than simply language knowledge. For example, Spain considers Portugal and Brazil as part of its “preference regime,” whereas Portugal granted preferred status only to Portuguesespeaking former colonies. Christian Joppke, Selecting by Origin: Ethnic Migration in the Liberal State (Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press, 2005), pp. 111–114.

Restrictive Continuity

109

One could therefore argue, perhaps, that my coding of Spain – with CPI scores of 1.25 in the 1980s and 1.38 in 2008 – is too harsh, since the country does allow citizens of numerous countries to hold dual citizenship,62 and Spain’s residency requirement for naturalization for these people is only two years instead of the usual ten.63 Moreover, Spain has a policy of double jus soli, whereby the children of immigrants who were themselves born in Spain can automatically receive Spanish citizenship. Nonetheless, I stand by the coding, while recognizing that the Spanish case is more nuanced than may appear by just looking at the criteria and scores. In my view, the crucial standard is how the law applies to immigrants who do not receive any special privileges or rights based on their heritage. And this is how I have applied the coding across all of the countries. While Spain (like France) does receive some credit in the CPI for its policy of double jus soli in the category of “jus soli at birth,” Spain (unlike France64) does not allow for “jus soli after birth.” The distinction is quite significant in practice, as there are probably many more people who would receive citizenship via the French-type option for jus soli after birth than through the French/Spanish model of double jus soli. Keeping these nuances in mind, and focusing on the policies for immigrants of non-Hispanic origin, the characterizations of other scholars certainly fit the restrictive continuity pattern. As Rubio-Marín writes, “In almost every aspect of its nationality regime Spain has always looked to its past.”65 In fact, even the reforms made over the past two decades have not made any major attempt to integrate such immigrants. Instead of responding to changing immigration patterns (Spain became a net receiver of immigrants in the 1980s) the focus continues to be on Spanish emigrants and their 62

63

64

65

This applies to the citizens of most Latin American countries, along with people from Andorra, the Philippines, Equatorial Guinea, and Portugal, as well as to Sephardic Jews (in recognition of their expulsion from the country in 1492). Rubio-Marín, “Spain,” pp. 478, 488. Indeed, Spain in essence enforces two completely different sets of policies: As RubioMarín writes, “one should also note the existence of a special regime for nationals of certain countries or cultures with which Spain is said to have either a historical debt, special ties of cultural affi nity or a combination of the two. The special treatment is limited to two features. One is the shortening of residence time required to naturalise and the other one the existence of a conventional and/or legal regime of dual nationality.” Ibid., p. 506. As Weil and Spire write, “A person born in France whose parents are neither French nor born in France will automatically become French at age eighteen if he or she still resides in France and does not refuse the citizenship.” Patrick Weil and Alexis Spire, “France,” in Bauböck et al., eds., Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, p. 187. Rubio-Marín, “Spain,” p. 509.

110

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

descendants.66 Moreover, Spain continues to maintain a distinction created in 1982 between nationality “by origin” and “derivative nationality.” People in the latter category are more susceptible to losing their nationality (e.g., by joining a foreign military or committing a crime), which suggests that even when non-Hispanic immigrants do acquire Spanish citizenship, their status is less secure than those who are “original” or “ethnic” citizens. Spain has not had many major political battles over the issue of citizenship.67 What is most striking is the absence of an organized far right movement in Spain.68 This has to do with the late exit of authoritarian rule in Spain, which became democratic only in the years following General Francisco Franco’s death in 1975. The legacy of Franco and his right-wing dictatorship, combined with the late arrival and politicization of immigration, have kept support for the far right at bay. This could change, of course, and many have expected a rise in support for the Spanish far right,69 yet the politics of immigration has not caught on in Spain to the same degree as in other European countries. There have been, however, some political debates over citizenship policy between parties on the left and the right, and their positions fall along the expected lines, with the center-left parties supporting a more liberal citizenship policy for immigrants, while the center-right parties oppose such liberalization and focus instead on the rights of emigrants. In 1990, the Socialist-led government proposed to reduce the residency requirement for non-Hispanic immigrants from ten to five years, and it sought to institute genuine jus soli for the children of legal fi rst-generation immigrants, but this reform was rejected.70 Moreover, in 2003 the Socialists – then in the opposition – proposed once again to create full jus soli.71 While they have 66

67

68

69

70 71

Rubio-Marín writes: “In spite of this radical [demographic] transformation, the Spanish regulation on nationality has not been significantly modified since the mid 1980s, and the reforms that it has been subject to (in 1990, 1993, 1995, and, most recently, in 2002) have still prioritized the concerns about former expatriates who lost their nationality and their descendants, over those of immigrants for whom access to nationality is an opportunity for integration.” Ibid., p. 490. See Omar G. Encarnación, “The Politics of Immigration: Why Spain Is Different,” Mediterranean Quarterly 15, no. 4 (2004): 167–185. See Sheelagh Ellwood, “The Extreme Right in Spain: A Dying Species?” in The Far Right in Western and Eastern Europe, edited by Ronnie Ferguson, Luciano Cheles, and Michalina Vaughan (New York: Longman, 1995). Some have been predicting this for over a decade: “Spain has absorbed too many immigrants in recent years to escape the racial violence that is disfiguring Europe.” “Racism in Spain,” Economist, November 21, 1992. Fuentes, “Migration and Spanish Nationality Law,” pp. 134–135. Rubio-Marín, “Spain,” p. 492.

Restrictive Continuity

111

not yet taken up this issue since winning the elections of 2004 and 2008, it is certainly possible that such a change could emerge in the near future. Unlike the other cases of restrictive continuity, where either a powerful far right movement is mobilized on an anti-immigrant platform (in Austria, Denmark, and Italy) or the mainstream parties have essentially served the same purpose (in Greece), Spain seems to have genuine potential for liberalization. Since the far right is essentially nonexistent in Spain, the issue has not become nearly as politicized as in other countries. And the current center-left government, which has made liberalizing proposals in the past, could very well seek to institute some changes once again. Moreover, one can speculate that the fact that dual citizenship is so readily permitted for citizens from a variety of different countries suggests that a change to full dual citizenship would not be nearly as major a change as it would be in Austria or Denmark. In short, Spain remains a case of restrictive continuity, but its political situation leaves open the possibility for liberalizing change.

Greece Greece has one of the most antiquated and restrictive citizenship policies of the EU-15, sliding back from a CPI score of 1.25 in the 1980s to 1.0 in 2008. Although it has been tinkered with numerous times since the fi rst Greek citizenship law of 1835, an extreme form of jus sanguinis still exists, along with very difficult naturalization requirements. The country’s tolerance of dual citizenship is not particularly relevant, since very few immigrants actually become naturalized Greek citizens. And the political process in Greece has resisted any pressures for liberalization, while the mainstream parties have an overall stance on issues related to immigrants that is essentially in line with the far right parties in other countries. A crucial historical feature of Greek citizenship policy is the distinction made between homogenis and allogenis Greeks. As Dimitris Christopoulos explains, Greek citizenship law distinguishes “between members of the Greek-Orthodox genos, that is homogenis, and persons of different descent, of another genos, that is allogenis .”72 In practice, the homogenis concept refers to “Greek ethnic origin,” primarily defi ned in religious terms by one’s Greek Orthodox Christianity. An important qualification is that being homogenis does not necessarily mean that someone is a Greek citizen; nor 72

Dimitris Christopoulos, “Greece,” in Bauböck et al., eds., Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, p. 253.

112

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

does allogenis preclude a person from holding Greek citizenship. Indeed, people of Greek ethnic origin who are citizens of other countries are viewed as homogenis; and long-term residents of foreign origin will always be considered allogenis, even if they are naturalized Greek citizens. For well over a century, a major focus of Greece’s citizenship legislation has involved the withdrawal, rather than the extension, of Greek citizenship. The Civil Law of 1856 provided that Greeks who naturalize abroad would lose their Greek citizenship automatically. This was softened somewhat in 1914, as more citizenship rights for homogenis emigrants became protected – including the incorporation of dual citizenship73 – but a 1927 decree stipulated that “allogenis Greek citizens, who have fled Greek soil and have no intention of returning, lose the Greek nationality.”74 Later, under German occupation in World War II, it was established that citizenship could be withdrawn from anyone deemed “unworthy,” and 56,000 Greeks who had migrated to Eastern Europe between 1947 and 1949 lost their citizenship.75 More recently, the state withdrew citizenship from Greeks whom it considered lacking national consciousness, a practice that focused on communists until 1974, and various minorities until 1998.76 The end of the Cold War created new dilemmas for Greece’s citizenship policy, as many people who identify Greece as their “ancestral country” have immigrated from former communist states. Many of these people were granted citizenship en masse.77 Others have benefited from preferential naturalization procedures, as noncitizens of Greek origin do not need to meet the ten-year residency requirement for naturalization eligibility, or pay the (very high) processing fee.78 The integration of foreign immigrants has not been a priority in Greek citizenship law, even for spouses of Greek citizens.79 And minority groups 73

74

75 76 77 78 79

See Christos L. Rozakis, “Nationality Law in Greece,” in Weil and Hansen, eds., Towards a European Nationality, p. 188. Christopoulos, “Greece,” p. 262. This practice still persists; see “Turkey Says Greek Citizenship Law Is Racist,” BBC, July 12, 1995; and European Commission against Racism and Intolerance, “Third Report on Greece,” adopted on December 5, 2003. Christopoulos, “Greece,” pp. 261–262. Ibid., p. 255. Ibid., pp. 255, 266. European Commission against Racism and Intolerance, “Third Report on Greece.” Spouses were not given preference for naturalization until 1993, when some special procedures were implemented, and in 1997, when the residence requirement became no longer required for foreign spouses. The 2004 reform actually backtracked and added a three-year legal residence requirement for foreign spouses. See Christopoulos, “Greece,” p. 266.

Restrictive Continuity

113

in Greece – including Muslim, Roma, Macedonian, and religious groups – have complained that the laws do not provide a middle category for nonGreeks of Greek origin (i.e., minorities who have extended residency in Greece).80 Naturalization requirements and procedures are extremely diffi cult for allogenis non-Greeks. Not only is the residency requirement of ten years relatively long,81 along with a high naturalization fee of almost €1500, but most importantly the state has unlimited discretion and no obligation to respond to naturalization applications. In other words, applications can be evaluated for years, and individuals have no means to challenge a rejection.82 The result of this policy of rejection and dissuasion is that despite the fact that there are over one million immigrants working in Greece – corresponding to roughly 10 percent of the country’s population – only 15,000 allogenis foreigners have become naturalized Greek citizens over the past twenty-five years.83 And the new Code of Nationality, passed in 2004, “does not even slightly move in the direction of adopting specific rules for the nationality acquisition by individuals born and living in Greece.”84 As for the politics of citizenship, the Greek case is distinctive in two crucial respects. First, unlike just about every other country in the EU-15, Greece has seemed relatively immune to the usual liberalizing pressures, both international and domestic. It has avoided ratifying any international treaties that might liberalize its nationality policies.85 And the demographic situation of having large numbers of immigrant residents has not created a strong domestic pressure for integration policies . Second, unlike Austria, Denmark, and Italy, the far right has played absolutely no role in the debates about Greek citizenship policies.86 Indeed, since the collapse of Greece’s military junta in 1974, Greece has no parties that can formally be classified as anti-immigrant parties of the far right. 80 81

82 83 84 85 86

European Commission against Racism and Intolerance, “Third Report on Greece.” Before 2001, applicants could either have lived in Greece for ten years prior to application or could live in Greece for five years following the application. After 2001, the post-application residence possibility was removed. Christopoulos, “Greece,” p. 267. Rozakis, “Nationality Law in Greece,” p. 183; also see Christopoulos, “Greece,” p. 275. Christopoulos, “Greece,” p. 255. Ibid., p. 277. Ibid., p. 268. See Panayote Elias Dimitras, “Greece: The Virtual Absence of an Extreme Right,” in The Extreme Right in Europe and the USA, edited by Paul Hainsworth (New York: St. Martin’s, 1992), pp. 246–268.

114

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

But as Andrew Apostolou suggests, “the ethnocentrism of the far right in other EU countries is the norm in Greece across the political spectrum, another reason why the far right is likely to remain marginal in Greek politics.”87 And Christopoulos describes the approval of the 2004 reform as follows: The Code has passed en bloc without any prior public consultation with relevant bodies, with an absolute majority of votes by the two big political parties. It is rather indicative that the Code was elaborated by the Ministry of Interior during the previous socialist government and was brought into Parliament and passed – without the slightest amendment – by the new conservative government .88

In other words, as these quotations make clear, in the Greek context the political mainstream can be viewed as holding positions similar to those of the far right in other European countries, a stance that seems to be well in line with public sentiment as well. This leaves open the question of whether liberalizing change in Greece is possible in the future. Certainly the level of public mobilization there is less focused than in Austria, Denmark, and Italy, where the entire raison d’être of far right parties is to fight any liberalization on immigration and citizenship issues. And if the liberalizing pressures – domestic but especially international, via the EU – were to increase in Greece, it is conceivable that some policy change could result. But for the moment, particularly following a 2004 reform that actually tightened an already restrictive policy, continuity seems to be the lasting pattern.

The Politics of Restrictive Continuity The cases of restrictive continuity discussed in this chapter present a stark contrast to the countries analyzed in the previous chapter, in which various international and domestic pressures led to a decisive liberalizing change. In the five cases presented above, however, the liberalizing pressures of 87

88

Andrew Apostolou, “Greece’s Immigration Policy Challenge,” Western Policy Center, July 2002. Christopoulos, “Greece,” p. 277. Christopoulos goes on to note, “The Code was voted against by the two political parties on the left, the Communist Party and the Left Coalition, their MPs expressing serious objections particularly regarding the naturalisation fees of 1,500 euros as well as the generally strict preconditions of the naturalisation procedure. None of them, however, contested the fundamental regulatory categories and concepts of the Greek nationality law, such as the preferential treatment of homogenis, etc.” Ibid., p. 285.

Restrictive Continuity

115

international treaties and demographic change were still there, and many mainstream political elites did favor a loosening of the citizenship requirements, but the outcome was very different. This section attempts to explain how a very different set of political constellations and processes essentially negated the similar pressures for liberalization. The preceding analysis of the five countries of restrictive continuity points out a number of commonalities, but also some significant differences. Starting with the similar features, all countries except for Greece provide support for the general argument that political parties on the left are more supportive of the granting of citizenship to immigrants than parties on the right: in Austria, although the Social Democrats were passive on the issue, the Greens and Liberals both proposed citizenship liberalization; in Denmark, the Social Democrats and other center-left parties viewed easier naturalization as a means toward greater integration of immigrants; in Italy, several parties on the left have proposed various measures to facilitate the naturalization of foreigners; and in Spain, the Socialists have occasionally – as recently as 2003 – proposed to create full jus soli provisions. Moreover, in several cases, most notably Italy and Spain, while the parties on the left have favored what Joppke calls “deethnicization” by emphasizing the rights of immigrants to become genuine citizens, the parties on the right have supported a policy of “reethnicization,” whereby the goal is to encourage increased contact and easier reintegration for emigrants from the national diaspora who have settled elsewhere.89 Finally, on a sociological level, all five countries are former “sending” countries that have only in recent decades become net recipients of immigrants. As a result, they continue to struggle to fi nd strategies to integrate foreigners in their midst, while still satisfying a largely xenophobic popular sentiment . There are also many differences among this group of countries. Each has its own set of historical and institutional particularities, such as the tradition of provincial citizenship in Austria, the concept of infødsret and the crucial institutional mechanism of parliamentary oversight over naturalizations in Denmark, the central role of “ethnic Italians” in Italy, the distinction between homogenis and allogenis in Greece, and the lasting legacy of Spain’s extremely wide-ranging colonial system. Each of these features, while often established centuries ago, continues to shape both the principles and implementation of that country’s citizenship law. 89

Christian Joppke, “Citizenship between De- and Re-Ethnicization,” European Journal of Sociology 44, no. 3 (2003): 429–458.

116

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

Aside from these general commonalities and individual country differences, a closer analysis of these five countries shows a clear division between two subtypes of restrictive continuity, and the distinguishing feature is the relative strength or weakness of the forces on the far right. In the fi rst three countries covered above, one or more far right parties campaigned primarily or exclusively on the issue of opposition to immigrants, and moved the issues of immigration and citizenship from the narrow and relatively “quiet” domain of elite policymakers into wider and more cantankerous public debates. In Austria, the Freedom Party became reenergized after Jörg Haider assumed the leadership position, and it campaigned very effectively throughout the 1990s; in Denmark, the Progress Party (and its later offshoot, the People’s Party) began obstructing naturalizations in the mid-1970s, and made that its primary mission in the 1990s and 2000s; and in Italy, the Northern League and National Alliance parties have both run on platforms centered on increasing the restrictions placed on immigrants. Moreover, in all three countries, most of the mainstream center-right parties moved further to the right on this issue, most likely as an attempt to capture some of the increasing vote share that was going to the far right parties. As a result, the Austrian People’s Party, the Liberals and Conservatives in Denmark, and the Christian Democrats and later the parties in Berlusconi’s “Freedom Alliance” in Italy all toughened up their anti-immigrant rhetoric and vociferously opposed any liberalizing changes. Meanwhile, the parties on the center-left were stuck holding the view that a dwindling minority of the population supported, and many of the Social Democratic parties simply avoided the issue, rather than counter-attack, thus allowing the anti-immigrant forces to dominate the discourse and the political agenda. Consequently, the possibility of a liberalization of each country’s citizenship laws vanished, despite the same presence of liberalizing pressures that existed in the three cases examined in Chapter 4. In essence, the organization and mobilization of the far right on this issue trumped those more diffuse pressures to liberalize, and the result was a continuity – if not an increase – in the restrictiveness of each country’s citizenship policy. The cases of Greece and Spain defy this categorization, however, since they do not have any significant far right mobilization, yet their policies did not liberalize. An analysis of these two cases is therefore particularly important, and indeed instructive, and it allows us to speculate about the potential for future liberalizing change in these countries. Greece and Spain share an important common feature, which may go a long way

Restrictive Continuity

117

toward accounting for the contemporary weakness of the far right in both countries: they had right-wing military dictatorships that lasted well into the postwar period, ending in 1974 and 1975, respectively. As a result, it is somewhat taboo in both countries for a party to call itself of the extreme right. There is also a key difference between Spain and Greece, which has important implications for potential change in the future. As mentioned above, the mainstream parties in Greece, while not officially labeled as being on the far right, have very overt anti-immigrant views and programs, leading one scholar to conclude that what would be considered a far right perspective in most EU countries is actually “the norm in Greece across the political spectrum.”90 As a result of this widely shared anti-immigrant consensus, it is clear that there is little potential for liberalizing change in Greece, a country that historically has also tended to be less influenced by international treaties and pressures. In Spain, however, the political discussions are relatively moderate, and they actually fit more closely with the low-key processes in Sweden, Finland, and Luxembourg than with the incendiary debates in Austria, Denmark, and Italy. Moreover, the fact that Spain already has very liberal citizenship policies with dozens of other countries with which it has a special historical relationship suggests that the change would be less drastic and significant. In short, while liberalizing change has not yet taken place in Spain, it is certainly conceivable, particularly now that a Socialist government – which had advocated for jus soli just a few years ago when in the opposition – is in power. This is not to suggest that it is necessarily likely, and it is certainly not inevitable. But it is nonetheless possible, since the far right mobilization that so effectively blocked citizenship liberalization in Austria, Denmark, and Italy, and the widespread public and political sentiment that prevents it in Greece, do not currently exist within Spain’s current constellation of political forces. Overall, this chapter has provided evidence based on an analysis of five countries to show how the public mobilization of latent anti-immigrant sentiment in the population can effectively block liberalizing pressures. The cases of restrictive continuity examined in this chapter thereby stand in stark contrast to those of liberalizing change in Chapter 4. The next chapter, however, turns to a very important country that contains features from both types. Germany’s citizenship law certainly became more liberal in 2000, but the new policy is a much watered-down compromise from 90

Apostolou, “Greece’s Immigration Policy Challenge.”

118

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

the government’s initial proposal, and the mobilization of public opinion – albeit in a different form, deriving from an extensive petition campaign rather than a far right party – was a crucial factor in stopping further liberalization. The exploration of the German case allows us to better understand both liberalizing pressures and popular mobilization.

6 Partial Liberalization with a Restrictive Backlash Germany

Introduction In the realm of citizenship policy, no country has received nearly as much attention – or criticism – as Germany .1 Until recently, Germany was generally viewed as having an outdated and restrictive policy that was impervious to demographic realities and liberalizing pressures and trends. Indeed, in his thorough account of the history and trajectory of Germany’s citizenship policy, Rogers Brubaker wrote in 1992 that “the automatic transformation of immigrants into citizens remains unthinkable in Germany.”2 Yet despite many predictions of continuity, Germany’s policies have undergone considerable changes over the past decade. Not only were naturalization requirements loosened somewhat in 1993, but much more importantly, a major new Nationality Act was approved in 1999 and took effect in 2000. As a result, the Citizenship Policy Index (CPI) score for Germany increased from a 0 in the 1980s to a 2.04 in 2008. Nonetheless, the extent of the change remains an open question, and a careful examination of the evidence suggests that it may still be too early to categorically reject the “spirit” of Brubaker’s assessment. This chapter focuses on the German case in much greater depth than the mini case studies of the comparative chapters. Unlike most other countries, German citizenship policy has been the subject of a vast and rich scholarly

1

2

A search of the EBSCO online database of academic journals for the terms “citizenship OR nationality” and “law” and the country name showed that Germany has been the subject of more than twice as many publications as the next closest country (France) and more than four times as many as the next closest EU country. Rogers Brubaker, Citizenship and Nationhood in France and Germany (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1992), p. 185.

119

120

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

literature. Moreover, this more detailed analysis allows me to incorporate the fi ndings of some of my own interviews with German policymakers. The main reason, however, for focusing disproportionate attention on this case is that it helps to illustrate the theoretical argument developed in preceding chapters, and to show both sides of the empirical process laid out in Chapters 4 and 5. Indeed, the German case highlights the importance of focusing on the politics of citizenship. It shows not only how an elite-driven process can lead to liberalizing change – despite strong anti-immigrant sentiment within the population – but also how the mobilization of xenophobia can lead to a rather sudden restrictive backlash. The chapter traces the historical context in which German citizenship policy developed and summarizes the pressures for liberalization that increased from the 1970s to the 1990s, before showing how and why both the gradual liberalization and the sudden restrictive backlash took place. The fi nal sections then elucidate the main features of the new compromise law of 2000 and speculate about its longer-term effects in creating a new defi nition and perception of what it means to be German.

Historical Overview of German Citizenship Although Germany has long been characterized as the prototypical jus sanguinis country, it should be mentioned that during the fi rst half of the nineteenth century, many of the independent German states actually had a tradition of jus domicili, or principle of residence.3 Jus sanguinis was fi rst introduced by Bavaria in 1818, was adopted more widely by the Prussian citizenship law of 1842, was consolidated by the formation of the unified German Reich in 1871, and then was fi nally concretized by the German Nationality Law of 1913. The purpose of the 1913 law, which was solidified by the Constitution of 1919, was to supplement, rather than replace, the citizenship of the individual states within the federation.4 And the principle of this policy – which would remain fi rmly ingrained in German law for the

3

4

Simon Green, “Beyond Ethnoculturalism? German Citizenship in the New Millennium,” German Politics 9, no. 3 (2000): 108. Also see Andreas Fahrmeier, “NineteenthCentury German Citizenships: A Reconsideration,” Historical Journal 40, no. 3 (1997): 721–752. Kay Hailbronner, “Germany,” in Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, Volume 2, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Eva Ersbøll, Kees Groenendijk and Harald Waldrauch (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2006), p. 217.

Partial Liberalization with a Restrictive Backlash

121

next eight decades – was that German citizenship refers to a “community of descent,” with little regard for birthplace and residence.5 After the collapse of the Weimar Republic, this blood-based defi nition of citizenship was easily manipulated by the Nazi regime for its genocidal purposes.6 On coming to power, the Nazis quickly abolished regional citizenship (in the Länder) and created a unitary state. They also canceled the naturalizations that had taken place in the Weimar period, revoked the German citizenship of those viewed as “having violated a duty of loyalty to the German Empire or the ‘German Nation,’” and withdrew the citizenship rights of German Jews. The Nazi policy was neatly summarized by point 4 of the Nazi party program, which was then adopted by the Reichsbürgergesetz of 1935: “Only Volk-comrades can be citizens. And only persons of German blood, irrespective of confession, can be Volkcomrades. No Jew can be a Volk-comrade.”7 In short, the Nazis took the jus sanguinis defi nition to its extreme, using it as a tool for racial hierarchy and mass murder. Given how quickly the newly constituted Federal Republic of Germany (FRG) emerged as a liberal democratic nation-state in the postwar period, one might have expected a new citizenship policy to replace the 1913 law, which the Nazis had abused so easily . Yet the old law remained in effect, for two main practical and political reasons. First, hundreds of thousands of “ethnic Germans” scattered around Eastern Europe (known as Aussiedler) were facing significant postwar recriminations, and allowing them to return to Germany was considered a basic and fundamental human rights issue. Second, East German citizens who managed to leave

5

6

7

Brubaker, Citizenship and Nationhood in France and Germany, p. 115. There were, of course, exceptions to this principle, and certainly Germans living elsewhere could lose their German citizenship. The main point, however, is that it was made extremely difficult for a non-German to acquire German citizenship. This is not to suggest that the 1913 citizenship law caused the Nazi citizenship policy. Rather, as Brubaker points out, the Nazi policy represented a “radical novelty” that differed from the Wilhelmine tradition that had defi ned the 1913 law. Indeed, the Reichbürgergesetz within the Nuremberg laws of 1935 imposed extremist ethno-racial criteria that had not existed in the 1913 law – and which were promptly eliminated in the postwar period. Yet the point remains that it was easier for the Nazis to adapt the traditional German policy of exclusive jus sanguinis than it would have been to modify the French or American use of jus soli. See Brubaker, Citizenship and Nationhood in France and Germany, esp. pp. 165– 168. Also see Dieter Gosewinkel, “Citizenship and Naturalization Politics in Germany in the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries,” in Challenging Ethnic Citizenship: German and Israeli Perspectives on Immigration, edited by Daniel Levy and Yfaat Weiss (New York: Berghahn Books, 2002), p. 60. Quoted by Brubaker, Citizenship and Nationhood in France and Germany, p. 167.

122

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

communist East Germany (Übersiedler), either voluntarily or by expulsion, were automatically granted West German citizenship on arrival in the FRG, a policy that helped to put pressure on the East German regime (and one that clearly contributed to eventual German unification after hundreds of thousands of East Germans escaped to the West via Hungary in the spring of 1989).8 Both of these policies were encapsulated in the 1953 Federal Expellee Law of the FRG , which provided for the “right of return” for all “ethnic Germans” and their descendants.9

Germany’s New Citizenship Law After German unification in 1990 and the collapse of the Soviet bloc in 1991 , however, both of these reasons for maintaining such a broad interpretation of jus sanguinis became outdated and impractical. Most obviously, the second reason no longer served any purpose, since the disappearance of the German Democratic Republic (GDR) meant that all East Germans automatically became citizens of the FRG on October 3, 1990. And the grounds for the fi rst reason became increasingly difficult to justify, as the collapse of communism allowed and encouraged vast numbers of residents from Eastern Europe to claim their German lineage, despite their ever-moreremote ancestry and attachments to Germany. Moreover, the accommodation of over two million Aussiedler between 1988 and 1996 – many of whom did not speak German well (if at all) and could integrate into German society only with great difficulty – was especially arduous for a German state that was already overburdened by the high costs of unification. To stem the tide of mass immigration of “ethnic Germans,” especially in the face of spreading rumors about the sale of fraudulent documents in order to “prove” German ancestry, the German state imposed several stop-gap measures intended to reduce the numbers of Aussiedler coming into Germany. These included applying from abroad, passing a German language test, and filling out a lengthy questionnaire. Moreover, in 1992 the state restricted the maximum number of Aussiedler permitted to move to Germany to 220,000 per year,10 in addition to curtailing their language and fi nancial assistance upon arrival in Germany. 8 9

10

See, e.g., ibid., pp. 82–84. See, e.g., Simon Green, The Politics of Exclusion: Institutions and Immigration Policy in Contemporary Germany (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2004), pp. 30–31. This assortment of strategies seems to have worked. The number of Aussiedler admitted in 1990 was 397,000, but after the new quota was implemented, the numbers dropped

Partial Liberalization with a Restrictive Backlash

123

At the same time as authorities tinkered with the jus sanguinis component of German citizenship policy – for people with some German ancestry but little connection to Germany – the justification for denying jus soli became even more tenuous and indefensible as it became clear that Germany had indeed become the permanent home of ever-more foreign residents whose entire families, including children and grandchildren, were growing up and staying in Germany. The striking contrast between German-born Turks (speaking fluent German, often studying and working productively in Germany, yet not being granted citizenship) and the large numbers of “ethnic Germans” (arriving with little or no knowledge of German language or culture, yet being granted citizenship automatically) was becoming more and more difficult to justify, either morally or economically.11 In short, despite repeated claims by German officials that “Germany is not, nor shall it become, a country of immigration,” the recent demographic realities – especially in such cities as Frankfurt, Stuttgart, Munich, Cologne, Düsseldorf, and Hamburg, where the proportion of foreign residents ranges from 15 percent to 30 percent – began to tell otherwise.12 And while the justification for maintaining the 1913 citizenship law in the postwar Federal Republic may have been acceptable in the context of the Cold War, in the postunification period it appeared increasingly anachronistic and offensive.

Domestic and International Pressures for Liberalization Over the course of several decades, as in most EU countries, Germany experienced significant domestic and international pressures to liberalize its citizenship policy. In fact, these were even more powerful in Germany, given both the high numbers of long-term foreign residents living there and the intense scrutiny that Germany has faced in light of its Nazi past. The

11

12

gradually and consistently, from 222,000 in 1994 to 105,000 in 1999, and to slightly under 100,000 in subsequent years. The admission of Aussiedler is set to stop altogether in 2010. See Philip L. Martin, “Germany: Reluctant Land of Immigration,” American Institute for Contemporary German Studies, German Issues Series, no. 21 (1998): 24–25; Migration News 7, no. 7 (July 2000). See, e.g., Simon Green, “Citizenship Policy in Germany: The Case of Ethnicity over Residence,” in Towards a European Nationality: Citizenship, Immigration, and Nationality Law in the EU, edited by Randall Hansen and Patrick Weil (New York: Palgrave, 2001), esp. pp. 44–46. See Martin, “Germany: Reluctant Land of Immigration,” p. 3.

124

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

result was a varied set of factors that collectively and persistently pushed Germany in a liberalizing direction.13 International pressures were certainly more visible in Germany than in other countries, though ultimately – as in the cases of liberalizing change examined in Chapter 4 – domestic factors were probably decisive. Germany suffered from the stigma of its 1913 law, which in the minds of many people was synonymous with Nazi rule and racist genocide . And it stood out in comparison to other European countries, especially neighboring France, which had more inclusive policies for integrating immigrants. As international bodies such as the Council of Europe, the European Court of Justice, and the European Court of Human Rights began to play an increasingly important political, moral, and judicial role in Europe, there was a sense that Germany’s law stood out as antiquated, inhumane, and in need of modernization, all of which certainly had a steady, if subtle, impact on key decision makers.14 There was also an economic motive for Germany’s desire for greater international acceptance, particularly in the past decade. As Anil writes, “Liberalizing citizenship regulation was also seen as a way to improve Germany’s image in order to attract highly skilled workers … . Compared to traditional immigrant-receiving countries, Germany’s exclusive citizenship policy was a disadvantage in the highly competitive international labor market for skilled workers.”15 In other words, although they were not explicitly linked – and the “Green Card” initiative for recruiting high-tech workers did not emerge until a year after the citizenship reform had been implemented – the economic need for more (and particularly high-skilled) labor drove many businesses to push for a more liberal citizenship policy. But this was also the case in the restrictive countries that did not liberalize, as examined in Chapter 5, so the need for labor, while probably a necessary factor, is not sufficient to account for Germany’s change. A host of domestic factors contributed to increasing the pressure on German policymakers, ranging from demographic changes in German society to a key related decision by the Federal Constitutional Court to the legacy

13

14 15

Note that when I refer to “Germany” or “German society,” I mean specifically the Federal Republic of Germany (FRG), which was really “West Germany” until unification in 1990, and has been “unified Germany” since then. This discussion does not delve into immigration or citizenship policies in the German Democratic Republic (GDR), or “East Germany.” Interview with Gerold Lehnguth, Ministry of Interior, Berlin, October 2004. Merih Anil, “No More Foreigners? The Remaking of German Naturalization and Citizenship Law, 1990–2000,” Dialectical Anthropology 29, no. 4 (2005): 460.

Partial Liberalization with a Restrictive Backlash

125

of the Nazi past and its influence in keeping the far right out of German politics. The most important influence was certainly the demographic situation mentioned briefly at the end of the preceding section. German society was fundamentally changed by nearly two decades of “guest worker” programs, from the mid-1950s until 1973, which cycled millions of working men from Italy, Greece, Portugal, Turkey, and Yugoslavia in and out of Germany. At the peak of the program in 1973, there were about 14 million guest workers residing in Germany, 11 million of whom left for their home countries when the oil crisis led to the end of the guest worker model.16 But three million of them – mainly from Turkey – stayed behind, and with the support of German and international courts, they eventually brought their families to join them and went on to have children who were born on German soil. The result was that Germany transformed from a society with under 700,000 foreigners in 1960 to one with 7.3 million foreigners today, constituting about 9 percent of its population.17 In addition to the influx of guest workers and their families, most of which occurred several decades ago, a main reason for the high numbers of foreigners in Germany was the asylum crisis that took place in the early to mid-1990s. This situation developed because of Germany’s unique asylum policy, which at the time was far more generous than that of any other country in Europe or the world.18 The policy was entrenched in postwar Germany’s Basic Law, or constitution, which represented a major change from the Nazi period by enshrining a number of civil and human rights. Up until the end of the Cold War, the result was relatively large, but still manageable, numbers of asylum seekers – with, for example, 57,400 individual applicants in 1987. The numbers began to increase dramatically in subsequent years, particularly after the dissolution of Yugoslavia. As Hansen and Koehler write, “In late 1992, the number of asylum applications to Germany was spiraling out of control – reaching a record of 438,000 that year, a figure never seen before or since by any European nation. Yet Germany had a constitutionally entrenched right of asylum, and there was little the country could do.”19

16

17

18 19

Ruud Koopmans, “Germany and Its Immigrants: An Ambivalent Relationship,” Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies 25, no. 4 (1999): 628. Philip Martin, “There Is Nothing More Permanent Than Temporary Foreign Workers,” Washington, D.C.: Center for Immigration Studies, 2001, p. 3. See, e.g., Green, The Politics of Exclusion, pp. 84–88. Randall Hansen and Jobst Koehler, “Issue Defi nition, Political Discourse and the Politics of Nationality Reform in France and Germany,” European Journal of Political Research 44, no. 5 (2005): 636–637.

126

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

Meanwhile, the issue of asylum seekers became highly public in 1992 and 1993 in the aftermath of several violent attacks on asylum seekers and foreigners in the towns of Rostock, Mölln, and Solingen, which resulted in numerous demonstrations and counter-demonstrations.20 This public mobilization made political parties on all sides uncomfortable, and they therefore “removed immigration and asylum from public debate and entered into private negotiations.”21 The ensuing reform, which took effect in June and July 1993, was a political compromise whereby the parties on the right were willing to liberalize the naturalization procedures (more on that below) and to restrict and gradually to eliminate the rights of “ethnic Germans” to become citizens,22 while the parties on the left agreed to change the asylum laws by not accepting asylum seekers who entered Germany through neighboring or “secure” third countries. In other words, with the exception of asylum seekers arriving by plane (which is rare), the new law quickly and effectively put a stop to the asylum crisis. Nonetheless, many of those who had entered Germany as asylum seekers over the previous years still remained. The demographic diversity of German society was by then undeniable, which made the noncitizen status of so many millions of foreign residents all the more glaring. Another domestic factor that added to the pressure for citizenship liberalization was the German legal system. Several decades earlier, the courts – in Germany and elsewhere in Europe – had already played an important role in declaring and protecting the right to family unification.23 In 1989, the Federal Constitutional Court took on the issue of voting by foreigners in local elections, which had recently been enacted in several cities and regions. The Court ruled that local voting by foreigners was unconstitutional, but it substantiated that opinion by advocating a liberalization of the national citizenship law. As Hailbronner writes, The Court stated that the concept of democracy as laid down in the Basic Law does not permit a disassociation of political rights from the concept of nationality. 20

21

22

23

Hermann Kurthen and Michael Minkenberg, “Germany in Transition: Immigration, Racism and the Extreme Right,” Nations and Nationalism 1, no. 2 (1995): 175–196. Hansen and Koehler, “Issue Defi nition, Political Discourse and the Politics of Nationality Reform in France and Germany,” p. 637. More specifically, one element of the compromise (Kriegsfolgenbereinigungsgesetz) defi ned immigration as a consequence of World War II, thereby restricting the upper limit of “ethnic German” immigration to the previous year’s total (220,000), and reducing the annual amount each year thereafter. See Ulrich Herbert, Geschichte der Ausländerpolitik in Deutschland (Munich: Verlag C. H. Beck, 2001), esp. p. 318. Christian Joppke, “Why Liberal States Accept Unwanted Immigration,” World Politics 50, no. 2 (1998): 266–293.

Partial Liberalization with a Restrictive Backlash

127

Nationality therefore is the legal prerequisite for the acquisition of political rights, legitimising the exercising of all power in the Federal Republic of Germany. The Court, however, also stated that the only possible approach to solving the gap between the permanent population and democratic participation lies in changing the nationality law, for example, by facilitating the acquisition of the German nationality by foreigners living permanently in Germany and thereby having become subject to German sovereignty in a manner comparable to German nationals .24

In other words, while restrictive in the sense of preventing local voting rights for foreigners, this ruling provided added pressure for liberalization from a highly influential and respected institution. A fi nal liberalizing pressure relates to a particular feature of postwar German politics, which serves as a legacy of the Nazi past. From its founding in 1949, one of the dominant guiding principles of the Federal Republic has been to keep the nationalist far right in check. This has been applied in many arenas, but most importantly it has been enforced by the Federal Constitutional Court, which keeps a tight leash on all extremist groups, propaganda, and even speech. Politically, it has manifested itself in selfcensorship by the political parties, which are generally (though not always) cautious about stirring up extreme nationalist sentiments in German society. The center-right parties, however, have frequently tried to strike a careful balance, by condemning explicit nationalist and anti-immigrant groups while, at the same time, appealing to their potential supporters and sympathizers. They try not to go too far in the latter direction, for fear of creating political instability if the radical right were to become too powerful. In the early 1990s – in the aftermath of unification and in the midst of the asylum crisis – many commentators expected a resurgence in support for the radical right.25 But the parties on all sides of the spectrum remained vigilant, thereby keeping the potential radicalism in check.26 As a result, there was a surprising general consensus across the political spectrum that long-term immigrants should be granted greater rights and opportunities for integration, while the vast numbers of both asylum seekers and ethnic Germans needed to be reduced.27 That said, there was considerable disagreement on the details relating to policies toward each of those three 24 25

26

27

Hailbronner, “Germany,” p. 220. See Kurthen and Minkenberg, “Germany in Transition: Immigration, Racism and the Extreme Right.” See David Art, The Politics of the Nazi Past in Germany and Austria (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006). For a convincing discussion of why Germany liberalized its citizenship policy whereas Austria did not – despite the fact that both countries had similar traditions and policies until recently – see Alice Ludvig, “Why Should Austria Be Different from Germany?

128

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

groups, which resulted in the compromises and changes discussed in the following section. On the issue of citizenship, the mainstream parties had a clear sense of their priorities and interests. The conservative parties had long received the overwhelming electoral support of ethnic Germans, and they were therefore in no rush to eliminate this steady influx of new supporters.28 And the parties on the left were actively courting the support of immigrants who, if they were to become German citizens, would be likely to vote for them.29 As the next section shows, these elite political battles played themselves out in a very intriguing way over the course of several decades. Overall, the pressures for the liberalization of Germany’s citizenship law were varied and substantial. As a result of its outdated 1913 law, Germany suffered international embarrassment, which was a particularly sensitive issue as the country was trying to overcome its Nazi past. More importantly, due to the influx of long-term guest workers and their families since the 1970s and of asylum seekers in the early 1990s, Germany found itself with a massive foreign population that simply could not be ignored. Moreover, the influence of the Federal Constitutional Court and the strategic calculations of political elites and parties also contributed to the sense that citizenship liberalization was both necessary and likely.

The Politics of Partial Liberalization The most obvious turning point for the liberalization of Germany’s citizenship law occurred on September 27, 1998, when the national elections resulted in the victory of the Social Democrats (SPD) and Greens, who ousted the longtime governing coalition of Christian Democrats (CDU/ CSU) and Free Democrats (FDP). Yet the groundwork for this reform had been set up over the preceding sixteen years by actors from all four of

28

29

The Two Recent Nationality Reforms in Contrast,” German Politics 13, no. 3 (2004): 499–515. Simon Green, “Between Ideology and Pragmatism: The Politics of Dual Nationality in Germany,” International Migration Review 39, no. 4 (2005): 927. According to research by Andreas Wüst, 73% of ethnic Germans from the former Soviet Union vote for the CDU/CSU, whereas only 23% support the SPD, and 1% the Greens. See Andreas Wüst, “Naturalised Citizens as Voters: Behavior and Impact,” German Politics 13, no. 2 (2004): 351. Note that this expectation has also proven to be accurate, as Wüst shows that 84% of naturalized Turkish-Germans vote for the SPD and Greens, with only 11% supporting the CDU/CSU. Wüst, “Naturalised Citizens as Voters,” p. 351. In the 2005 elections, the SPD and Greens received 86% of the votes of Turkish-Germans. See Philipp Lichterbeck, “Deutschtürken: 86 Prozent für Rot-Grün,” Tagesspiegel, October 16, 2005.

Partial Liberalization with a Restrictive Backlash

129

these political parties. Indeed, despite their disagreements about how to proceed, the parties all recognized that the status quo of the late 1980s and early 1990s – in terms of both the unwarranted obstacles faced by longterm immigrants and the excessive ease with which “ethnic Germans” were acquiring citizenship after the end of the Cold War – was unsustainable. Intense and protracted political debates about Germany’s citizenship policy emerged over the course of the 1980s, and they accelerated in the 1990s, involving all of the main political parties, along with legal experts and academics. But until January 1999, these discussions remained at the elite level, with little popular involvement. As one analyst writes, “there existed no significant pressure for an alteration of policy from the electorate or from interest groups; indeed, the advocacy of inclusive policy positions in the 1980s frequently constituted a political risk .”30 In fact, the political parties seem to have made a conscious effort to “avoid any public reaction by keeping the matter out of public debate.”31 As in most other European countries, the driving force for citizenship liberalization came from the parties on the left.32 In 1982, while in its last few months as leader of the national government with its then-coalition partner FDP, the SPD and Chancellor Helmut Schmidt attempted to pass a law that would have granted foreigners who were born and raised in Germany the right to German citizenship upon reaching adulthood.33 The CDU/CSU, which had control of the upper house of parliament, the Bundesrat, blocked the proposal and went on to win the national Bundestag elections later that year, forming a coalition with the FDP. In subsequent years – on the regional level in 1986, 1988, and 1989, and on the national level in 1989 – as members of the opposition, the SPD repeatedly proposed incorporating jus soli into a revised law.34 Of all the parties, the most liberal conception of citizenship was advocated by the leftist Greens, who in 1989 proposed a bill that would introduce jus soli, recognize dual citizenship, and allow for the naturalization of all foreigners who had lived in Germany for at least five years. The Greens had also attempted to implement a number of laws in the 1980s, including 30

31

32

33 34

Laura Murray, “Einwanderungsland Bundesrepublik Deutschland? Explaining the Evolving Positions of German Political Parties on Citizenship Policy,” German Politics and Society 33 (1994): 24. Hansen and Koehler, “Issue Defi nition, Political Discourse and the Politics of Nationality Reform in France and Germany,” p. 637. See Christian Joppke, “Citizenship between De- and Re-Ethnicization,” European Journal of Sociology 44, no. 3 (2003): 429–458. Murray, “Einwanderungsland Bundesrepublik Deutschland?” pp. 32–39. Ibid.

130

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

local voting rights, a right of settlement (Niederlassungsrecht) that would have provided nearly all of the same rights as German citizens, the end of discretionary naturalization policies, and eventually the establishment of national voting rights.35 But these proposals were mainly symbolic, as the Greens were fi rmly in the opposition, with little chance of participating in a government for another decade to come. Nonetheless, they served as a liberal counterweight to the restrictiveness of the existing law at that time. Within the CDU/CSU-FDP government, which lasted from 1982 to 1998, the coalition’s harmony on citizenship policy was often strained, and the negotiations were at times quite turbulent.36 The starting point of the CDU/ CSU in 1982 showed no signs of openness, as they stated that the existing citizenship law was “sufficient and took the needs of foreigners into account, particularly those of the second generation.”37 But over the course of the next decade, more CDU/CSU politicians began to view the status quo as untenable, and their openness to liberal alternatives grew.38 Meanwhile, the FDP’s position “lay between that of the SPD and the CDU/CSU in its inclusiveness, as the party called for a general ease in policy and a right to citizenship for young foreigners, while stopping short of advocating jus soli.”39 The FDP’s stance, which was represented by its member, Liselotte Funcke, who held the position of Commissioner of Foreigners, advocated “humane” citizenship policies, including dual citizenship.40 The FDP also used this issue as a way to distinguish itself from its much larger coalition partner, and to highlight both its liberal profi le and its independence . Until 1990, the FDP made little headway on reforming Germany’s citizenship policy, mainly because Interior Minister Friedrich Zimmermann, from Bavaria and the more conservative CSU, staunchly opposed any significant liberalization of the 1913 law. In 1989, however, Chancellor Helmut Kohl dismissed Zimmermann as part of a broader reshuffl ing of his cabinet in order to counteract lagging poll numbers and his party’s defeat in local elections. Zimmermann’s successor as Interior Minister was Wolfgang Schäuble (CDU), who promptly brought the CDU, CSU, and FDP together to reach a compromise that sought to create “calculable” naturalization criteria, based on clear and objective criteria.41 35 36 37 38 39 40 41

Ibid., p. 43. Interview with Max Stadler, Member of Bundestag (FDP), Berlin, October 2004. Murray, “Einwanderungsland Bundesrepublik Deutschland?” p. 31. See the detailed discussion in Green, The Politics of Exclusion, pp. 65–72. Murray, “Einwanderungsland Bundesrepublik Deutschland?” p. 39. Ibid., p. 40 Ibid., p. 30.

Partial Liberalization with a Restrictive Backlash

131

This new working relationship within the governing coalition resulted in the 1990 citizenship law, which slightly liberalized the requirements for naturalization.42 Despite the fact that fi nal decisions on naturalization were still to be made by local or regional bureaucrats, who had full discretion to approve or reject applications, this new law “represented the fi rst legal change in citizenship policy in an inclusive direction since Prussia’s institution of German citizenship law in 1913.”43 In 1993, the same government passed a small but very important revision to the 1990 policy, making naturalization an entitlement – to those who satisfied the criteria – rather than something that was discretionary. As a consequence of these two reforms, the long-standing defi nition of German citizenship as being based on German descent was fi nally modified.44 Although the requirements were still quite difficult to fulfill compared with other European countries, it fi nally became conceivable that people with entirely non-German family backgrounds could become full citizens of Germany. And, not surprisingly, the number of naturalizations increased over the course of the 1990s – with four times as many in 1996 as in 1986 – although they remained relatively low in comparative perspective, particularly considering that most foreigners in Germany already satisfied the naturalization requirements at the moment the laws were instituted .45 In sum, the political process that led to the 1990 and 1993 reforms resulted from the steady and fi rm outside pressure exerted by the opposition SPD and Greens, an increase in the numbers and influence of liberals within the CDU, the internal demands made by the FDP on its coalition partner, and the replacement of a staunchly anti-immigrant CSU Interior 42

43 44

45

For people between the ages of sixteen and twenty-three, the new requirements included: “renunciation of previous citizenship; normal residence in the Federal Republic for at least eight years; completion of six years’ full time education, at least four of which at the secondary level; and an absence of criminal convictions.” For those older than twentythree, “those ordinarily resident in Germany for 15 years had an entitlement to naturalize if they renounced their previous citizenship, had not been convicted of a criminal offence and were able to support themselves without claiming unemployment benefit or income support.” Hansen and Koehler, “Issue Defi nition, Political Discourse and the Politics of Nationality Reform in France and Germany,” p. 636. Also see Hailbronner, “Germany,” pp. 223–225. Murray, “Einwanderungsland Bundesrepublik Deutschland?” p. 32. Jost Halfmann, “Immigration and Citizenship in Germany: Contemporary Dilemmas,” Political Studies 45, no. 2 (1997): 260–274; Randall Hansen, “A European Citizenship or a Europe of Citizens? Third Country Nationals in the EU,” Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies 24, no. 4 (1998): 751–768. Hailbronner, “Germany,” p. 221. Also see Rainer Münz and Ralf Ulrich, “Germany and Its Immigrants: A Socio-Demographic Analysis,” Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies 24, no. 1 (1998): 49.

132

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

Minister with a more open-minded and pragmatic successor. These political factors influenced and motivated the fi rst steps of citizenship reform, which continued to develop over the next few years. Over the next five years of the CDU/CSU-FDP government, the issue of citizenship reform largely retreated from political debates and the policymaking agenda. Yet it remained in the background, as members of both the SPD and Greens viewed the new law as still too restrictive, and a number of CDU and FDP politicians agreed.46 Starting in 1995, a small group of CDU parliamentarians led by Peter Altmaier and Norbert Röttgen, known as the “junge Wilden” (“young wild ones”), convened secret weekly meetings with members of the FDP.47 Their goal was to attempt to develop a new citizenship policy that would allow for automatic jus soli for third-generation immigrants, thus providing an impetus for longer-term integration.48 They were not in full agreement on dual citizenship, as some found it completely acceptable, while others were still uncomfortable with it. The junge Wilden had some support within the CDU, including from Interior Minister Schäuble, and they attempted to bring along the rest of the CDU/CSU to their position. In June 1998, the party held a vote on the proposal, but only one-third of the CDU supported it, and the CSU was staunchly opposed.49 Meanwhile, the FDP’s position moved toward that of Altmaier and Röttgen. While several years earlier the party had been resistant to jus soli and in favor of dual citizenship, over the course of the mid-1990s it began to support the former, while hesitating about the latter. Consequently, the FDP – in conjunction with the junge Wilden – developed a plan for an option model (“Optionsmodell”) whereby children born in Germany to legal residents could automatically acquire German citizenship, and they could hold dual citizenship during their childhood, but would have to give one of them up at the age of twenty-one.50 46 47

48

49

50

See, e.g., Richard von Weizsäcker, “Wer ist der Fremde?” Die Zeit 11 (1995). Interviews with Peter Altmaier and Norbert Röttgen, Members of Bundestag (CDU), Berlin, October 2004. At one point they proposed a special citizenship status (Kinderstaatszugehörigkeit) for the children of immigrants who were themselves born in Germany and fulfi lled certain residency conditions. But this proposal was shelved in 1994 when it was deemed unlikely that such a “quasi-nationality” would be accepted by international law. See Hailbronner, “Germany,” pp. 221–222. Also see Green, “Between Ideology and Pragmatism,” p. 938, and Green, The Politics of Exclusion, pp. 92–95. Interviews with Altmaier and Röttgen. Also see Green, “Beyond Ethnoculturalism?” p. 112. Hailbronner, “Germany,” p. 223.

Partial Liberalization with a Restrictive Backlash

133

The work of the CDU junge Wilden and the FDP seemed to be for naught once the parties lost the national elections and were forced to go into opposition. After all, they had failed to garner enough support from their own coalition government while it was in power. As it turns out, however, the groundwork they had prepared would prove to be pivotal for reaching a new compromise in 1999, once the FDP was no longer part of the governing coalition and instead had to seek out a role for itself as an opposition party that was willing to negotiate. As mentioned above, a major impetus for change occurred in September 1998, when the SPD and Greens won the national elections and formed a coalition government under the leadership of Chancellor Gerhard Schröder. Although citizenship reform “was not a central issue in the 1998 campaign,”51 Schröder pledged to press ahead quickly with a fundamental change in the citizenship law immediately upon taking office. His government proposed an ambitious plan to establish jus soli for foreign children born on German soil, to ease naturalization rights for foreigners residing in Germany, and – most importantly and most controversially – to allow foreigners to hold dual citizenship by acquiring German citizenship while maintaining their current nationality as well. Schröder did not shy away from the resulting controversy, and in a major speech to the Bundestag on November 10, 1998, he stated boldly and with confidence that he would pass this citizenship reform: For far too long those who have come to work here, who pay their taxes and abide by our laws have been told they are just “guests.” But in truth they have for years been part of German society. This government will modernize the law on nationality. That will enable those living permanently in Germany and their children born here to acquire full rights of citizenship. No one who wants to be a German citizen should have to renounce or deny his foreign roots. That is why we will also allow dual nationality. Integration clearly requires the full and active commitment of those who are to be integrated. But we will reach out a hand to those who live and work here and pay their taxes so they may be encouraged to participate fully in the life of our democracy. This is responding positively to the realities in Europe. Our national consciousness depends not on some “law of descent” of Wilhelmine tradition but on the self-assured democracy we now have.52

This statement represented an ambitious goal and a radical departure from previous policies. In a larger sense, it suggested the possibility that Germany could take another major step in the direction of creating a civic umbrella 51 52

Anil, “No More Foreigners?” p. 462. From the official translation, made available by the German Information Center.

134

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

that not only accepts but also values pluralism and diversity, instead of categorizing people in primordial, racial terms. Moreover, the introduction of dual citizenship would have established a right that exists in many other European countries and in the United States .53 Shortly after the elections, the SPD-Green government seemed determined to bring about lasting citizenship reform, and leaders of both parties were extremely confident that they would succeed.54 As Hansen and Koehler write, “The government had just won a landslide victory and enjoyed a comfortable majority in both chambers, whereas the opposition was still reeling from the (by German standards) crushing defeat … . Thus, the government considered the move largely uncontroversial.”55 Indeed, claiming that citizenship liberalization was “long overdue,” the new Interior Minister Otto Schily (SPD) predicted that the changes would be approved smoothly and quickly in early 1999.56 What Schily and his colleagues did not expect, however, was that the issue of citizenship was about to leave the realm of elite discussions and enter an entirely different world of populist politics, where public opinion and mobilization would develop into a decisive factor – against liberalization. Indeed, the liberalization that occurred over the 1980s and 1990s was notable for being quiet and elite-led. Politicians from the various parties had intentionally sought not to bring the issue into the public arena, for fear that anti-immigrant sentiment could escalate and play into the hands of the radical right, thereby threatening Germany’s political stability and its international reputation. But Schröder’s bold public pronouncement in the aftermath of a bitter election campaign shattered that elite consensus, ultimately damaging the chance of implementing his full proposal.

The Politics of Restrictive Backlash Once Schröder made his proposal public, the debate over the citizenship law quickly left the inner sanctum of the Bundestag and the closed arena of parliamentary discussions. Parties on both sides of the proposal began openly to court public opinion. This was risky territory for those in favor of 53

54

55

56

See Marc Morjé Howard, “Variation in Dual Citizenship Policies in the Countries of the EU,” International Migration Review 39, no. 3 (2005): 697–720. Interviews with Cornelie Sonntag-Wolgast and Eckhardt Barthel, Members of Bundestag (SPD), Berlin, October 2004. Hansen and Koehler, “Issue Defi nition, Political Discourse and the Politics of Nationality Reform in France and Germany,” p. 638. Migration News 5, no. 11 (November 1998).

Partial Liberalization with a Restrictive Backlash

135

citizenship liberalization, since many Germans held anti-immigrant views, especially on the issue of dual citizenship.57 As Murray notes, referring to the 1980s and referencing the influential weekly Der Spiegel, “Opinion polls throughout the decade showed that the German public maintained negative attitudes toward foreigners residing in the Federal Republic. Even in 1989, when liberal voices among political parties were gaining strength, polls continued to demonstrate an ‘alarmingly stable and negative’ attitude toward immigrants .”58 Before 1998, even the center-right parties had avoided exploiting the anti-foreigner sentiment for fear of stirring up rightwing extremism (and thereby damaging Germany’s reputation abroad). Once they became members of the opposition in 1998, however, they decided to rouse up these latent tendencies in order to stop a political process they could no longer directly control. For several months, the CDU/CSU made sweeping public condemnations of the SPD-Green proposal, arguing in quite sensationalist terms that, for example, “foreigners will have a huge natural advantage over Germans” and that “Germany will be transformed into a land of immigration, a land of unlimited immigration.”59 When the government formally introduced its citizenship reform bill on January 13, 1999, Schröder seemed to give ground slightly, probably in reaction to the months of CDU/CSU attacks and their effectiveness with the public, stating: “I stress: I do not want dual citizenship, but I will accept it in order to serve the goal of integration.”60 But the CDU/CSU continued to hammer away at the proposal for dual citizenship. Wolfgang Schäuble, then head of the CDU, made the argument that “regularly allowing dual citizenship is poison to integration as well as to domestic order.”61 In short, the CDU/CSU argued that by granting dual citizenship, Germany would be allowing its new citizens to have divided loyalties, while not encouraging them to integrate into German society, which could result in possible terrorist links to their “other” countries at “home .”62 Up until this point, there was still a disconnect between public opinion – which was latently, and now increasingly self-consciously, anti-immigrant – and the political debates among the parties. But this changed rather

57 58 59 60 61

62

Green, “Between Ideology and Pragmatism,” p. 944. Murray, “Einwanderungsland Bundesrepublik Deutschland?” p. 28. Migration News 5, no. 11 (November 1998). Migration News 6, no. 2 (February 1999). Robert Birnbaum, “Schäuble: Doppelte Staatsbürgerschaft Ist Gift für Die Integration,” Der Tagesspiegel, January 4, 1999. This point was reinforced in an interview with Bernhard Mitko, a representative from the office of Michael Glos, Member of Bundestag (CSU), Berlin, October 2004.

136

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

dramatically in the run-up to the February 1999 regional elections to the state parliament in Hessen, the region surrounding Frankfurt. The CDU/ CSU made a crucial and unprecedented strategic move: “rather than fighting the government in parliament, where they were a minority in both houses, they took the debate to the streets.”63 First, Edmond Stoiber, the archconservative chairman of the CSU and Bavarian prime minister, called for a national plebiscite on dual citizenship, which was a strategy designed to embarrass the government, which had promised to encourage greater citizen participation than its predecessor had allowed. But the plebiscite idea was provocative in a country that – as a reaction to its fascist past – had intentionally avoided direct democracy as a means of shielding the political system from “excessive” popular will and its potentially anti-democratic tendencies. As a result, Schäuble reached a compromise solution within the CDU/CSU opposition, as he decided to endorse a signature campaign against dual citizenship . Moreover, the opposition decided to focus the petition campaign on the upcoming Landtag elections in Hessen, which had traditionally been a Social Democratic stronghold. If the CDU were to pull off this electoral upset, not only would it send a strong symbolic message to the SPD-Green government that the German people were on their side, but the opposition would take over the majority of seats in the Bundesrat, the upper house of parliament, and could thereby veto any legislation approved by the government. Since at that point it still looked unlikely that the SPD would lose its dominance in Hessen, the SPD and especially the Greens – having just entered a national government for the fi rst time – neglected the election campaign in Hessen. Meanwhile, the CDU’s Roland Koch agreed to lead the charge in the petition campaign as part of his long-shot bid to bring his party to victory, and thereby become the regional prime minister. As it turns out, the signature campaign was more effective than even its originators and strongest supporters could have anticipated. Although it began only on January 4, 1999, within less than six weeks the petition had gathered over five million signatures.64 And the CDU’s entire campaign in Hessen was based on its opposition to the proposed citizenship law.65 Moreover, public opinion surveys showed that increasing numbers of Germans were opposed to the concept of dual citizenship, up from

63

64 65

Hansen and Koehler, “Issue Defi nition, Political Discourse and the Politics of Nationality Reform in France and Germany,” p. 638. Ibid., p. 641. See Green, The Politics of Exclusion, pp. 97–103.

Partial Liberalization with a Restrictive Backlash

137

57 percent in December 1998 to 63 percent in January 1999.66 Finally, this extraordinary display of public mobilization led to the stunning defeat of the SPD-Green government in Hessen, thus ensuring that the national government no longer had the political means to pass its own proposal.67 The massive mobilization of the CDU petition drive and the Hessen defeat completely demotivated and demoralized the SPD,68 which suddenly and without much hesitation dropped its once-strident plans for reform, and instead sought a much watered-down compromise with the FDP. The FDP’s position – crafted during the period of secret meetings with the junge Wilden from the CDU in the mid-1990s – was in support of liberalizing citizenship requirements, but it remained absolutely opposed to allowing dual citizenship. As a result, after the Hessen debacle, the SPD-Greens faced the dilemma of either abandoning the issue altogether or saving face through a compromise plan with the FDP. In other words, while the liberalization process had proceeded for a period of nearly two decades, it did so quietly, at the elite level, and with little public involvement. However, once the CDU/CSU made the strategic decision to politicize the issue and to mobilize what had always been a latently anti-immigrant sentiment by focusing the campaign for the Hessen Landtag elections on the issue of opposition to dual citizenship, the terms changed. And as a result of this popular mobilization, the process of liberalization was abruptly and stunningly halted, leading to a backlash of restrictive measures that were amended to the government’s original proposal. In short, the mobilization of a previously latent anti-immigrant public essentially trumped the long-standing and elite-driven process of liberalization.

The German Nationality Act of 2000 Following decades of quiet negotiations and proposals, these two dramatic and public political swings – the triumphant entry of the SPD-Green government in September 1998 and the noisy backlash of the CDU petition campaign in February 1999 – took place within less than five months. During this time, the issue of citizenship became more public than both sides were comfortable with, and they therefore retreated to the more familiar and comfortable confi nes of elite-level negotiations in order to 66 67 68

Migration News 6, no. 2 (February 1999). Also see Green, “Between Ideology and Pragmatism,” pp. 939–941. As the outgoing state governor Hans Eichel (SPD) put it, “the double citizenship law issue became so emotional that it mobilized the opposition.” Migration News 6, no. 3 (March 1999).

138

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

reach a face-saving compromise for all sides. The result was the German Nationality Act of 2000, which was proposed in March 1999 by the SPDGreen government, supported by the FDP, and tolerated by elements of the CDU/CSU. The law was approved easily in May 1999, and it took effect on January 1, 2000, to surprisingly little fanfare or discussion. The compromise law resulted in three main sets of changes from the earlier law, as it had been amended most recently in 1993.69 The fi rst change in the 2000 law was the reduction of the residency requirement from fi fteen to eight years,70 but as before this applies only to people who have a valid residence permit, are gainfully employed, have no criminal convictions, and are willing to give up their prior citizenship. This liberalization of the residency requirement was complemented by the incorporation of a new loyalty oath in support of the “free and democratic order of the Constitution,”71 as well as naturalization tests.72 The application of these tests, however, has not been standardized on a national level, and is instead administered by individual regions.73 Second, and most importantly, Article 4 of the new law now contains the principle of jus soli, though with certain specifications and peculiarities.74 Children born on German soil now automatically become German citizens if at least one of the parents has had a legal residence permit for eight years or an unlimited residence permit for three years.75 In practice, this residence restriction rules out many foreigners, since such permits are difficult to obtain, and they require steady paid employment and a lack of dependence 69

70

71 72

73

74 75

Note that this refers to naturalizations based on a person’s legal right (Anspruchseinbürgerungen), which is distinct from naturalization by the discretion of German authorities (Ermessenseinbürgerungen). Until the 2000 law, discretionary naturalization had included a ten-year residency requirement. Hailbronner, “Germany,” p. 224. See Simon Green, “Divergent Traditions, Converging Responses: Immigration and Integration Policy in the UK and Germany,” German Politics 16, no. 1 (2007): 107. Hailbronner, “Germany,” p. 225. Note that in practice, this has led to widely different levels of difficulty on the language tests, with, for example, much more challenging tests in Bavaria than in Berlin. See Green, “Beyond Ethnoculturalism?” pp. 114–115. Hailbronner, “Germany,” p. 224. In addition, the law provided for a one-time option for children under the age of ten whose parents fulfi lled the new conditions to acquire German citizenship automatically between January 1 and December 31, 2000. To the surprise of many, only about 45,000 children took advantage of this opportunity, about 13% of those who were eligible. See Hailbronner, “Germany,” p. 224. The figures come from the Statistisches Bundesamt, the German national statistical office, and were reprinted in Bundesamt für Migration und Flüchtlinge, Integration (Nürnberg, 2005), p. 89.

Partial Liberalization with a Restrictive Backlash

139

on the welfare state. Furthermore, the German version of jus soli does not include a provision for double jus soli – as exists in Belgium, France, the Netherlands, and Spain – whereby the (third-generation) German-born children of a (second-generation) German-born person would automatically receive German citizenship, regardless of the status of that person’s residence permit. Given how many second- and third-generation immigrants live in Germany, this restriction effectively prevents the acquisition of German citizenship for approximately 60 percent of the children born in Germany since the law has taken effect.76 The third and most innovative component of Germany’s new citizenship law involves the option model and dual citizenship. Children who receive German citizenship through the jus soli procedures described above are allowed to hold dual citizenship until adulthood, but then they must choose one or the other citizenship before reaching the age of eighteen.77 This model was (with some minor modifications) essentially the same plan that the FDP and the CDU’s junge Wilden had developed in the mid-1990s. In other words, although their work at the time had not come to fruition,78 and their efforts had largely been forgotten, their original plan later came to be the cornerstone of the SPD-Green government’s compromise law. A core feature of the new German citizenship law is the prevention of what had been the main objective of Schröder’s original proposal: dual citizenship. As Green writes, “If the introduction of jus soli constitutes the main innovation of the new law, it is the steadfast desire to avoid dual citizenships which lies at the heart of Germany’s citizenship policy .”79 In some respects, however, one can argue that the new law includes movement in a liberalizing direction on dual citizenship.80 After all, the option model provides a temporary reprieve for children who receive German citizenship via jus soli, and it remains to be seen how the German courts will enforce the “option” if and when the law gets challenged by

76

77

78 79 80

Green writes, “Although around two thirds of non-nationals fulfi ll the residential requirement, far fewer meet the residence status provision, which has meant that the new ius soli has applied only to about 40 percent of live births to non-national parents between 2000 and 2002.” Green, “Between Ideology and Pragmatism,” p. 926. Also see Green, “Beyond Ethnoculturalism?” p. 114. In practice the age limit is actually twenty-three, since there is a five-year period in which to make one’s declaration after turning eighteen. Recall that they were resoundingly overruled by the CSU and the majority of the CDU. Green, “Beyond Ethnoculturalism?” p. 116. Indeed, Germany’s dual citizenship scores on the CPI reflect some liberalizing change from the 1980s to today.

140

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

people who refuse to give up one or the other citizenship.81 Moreover, the requirement that naturalizing citizens renounce their former citizenship can be waived in cases when that renunciation would bring about excessive “hardship.”82 And in practice, according to a report from the Commissioner for Foreigners of the federal government , 44.6 percent of naturalized citizens in the year 2000 were able to keep their citizenship. These figures included over 90 percent of the people who originally came from countries such as Iran and Afghanistan, but also 29 percent of Turks.83 The figures for Turkish-Germans were somewhat higher than usual in 2000 because of certain loopholes – which have since been closed – that allowed people to renounce their Turkish citizenship upon acquiring German citizenship, but immediately thereafter to reacquire their Turkish passports.84 In 2003, only 14 percent of Turks who became naturalized Germans were able to keep their Turkish citizenship as well .85 Given that most estimates put the total number of dual citizens in Germany at over two million, it may sound as if dual citizenship is de facto actually quite widespread within the immigrant community, even if it is not permitted de jure.86 In fact, in their comparative assessment of dual citizenship policies, which distinguishes between countries that are “open,” “tolerant,” and “restrictive,” Aleinikoff and Klusmeyer place Germany in the “tolerant” category.87 But a closer look shows that most of the two 81 82

83

84

85 86

87

Green, “Beyond Ethnoculturalism?” p. 120. Hailbronner, “Germany,” p. 225. According to the new law, “exceptions apply as in the past where the nationality cannot be given up, or where it is only possible to do so with particular difficulty.” Specific provisions exist for older people, refugees, and people from countries (such as Iran and Afghanistan) that essentially do not allow someone to give up that citizenship or that charge exorbitant fees in order to do so. The full citizenship law, including both the original 1913 law and subsequent amendments, is available from the Comparative Law Society’s “German Law Archive,” at http://www.iuscomp.org/gla (accessed May 24, 2009). Daten und Fakten zur Ausländersituation (Berlin: Beauftragte der Bundesregierung für Ausländerfragen, 2002). Interview with Tarik Tabbara, Beauftragte der Bundesregierung für Ausländerfragen, October 2004. Green, “Between Ideology and Pragmatism,” p. 930. Also see the interesting comparative analysis in Betty de Hart and Kees Groenendijk, “Multiple Nationality: The Practice of Germany and the Netherlands,” in International Migration Law: Development Paradigms and Key Challenges, edited by Ryszard Cholewinski, Richard Perruchoud, and Euan MacDonald (The Hague: T. M. C. Asser Press, 2007), pp. 87–103. T. Alexander Aleinikoff and Douglas Klusmeyer, “Plural Nationality: Facing the Future in a Migratory World,” in Citizenship Today: Global Perspectives and Practices, edited by T. Alexander Aleinikoff and Douglas Klusmeyer (Washington, D.C.: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, 2001), p. 76.

Partial Liberalization with a Restrictive Backlash

141

million German dual citizens are either children of bi-national parents88 or “ethnic Germans” who have come from elsewhere in Europe.89 The former generally become dual citizens automatically, by virtue of the jus sanguinis policies of both parents’ countries, in a process that is very difficult for states to regulate, to control, or even to be aware of. The latter results from Germany’s selective policy of not requiring ethnic Germans to renounce their other citizenship when they acquire a German passport – a feature that persists in the new law, even though it has not received much attention. Green characterizes the distinction between the law’s acceptance of dual citizenship for ethnic Germans and its steadfast opposition to dual citizenship for non-ethnic German immigrants as a “blatant hypocrisy” that demonstrates the continuation of Germany’s “ethnocultural” identity, despite the significant liberalization brought about by the new law.90 As for the non-ethnic German immigrants, Green writes that “those who have gained dual nationality as a result of naturalization, either as a long-term resident non-national or as the spouse of a German citizen, constitute a clear minority of cases. Yet despite their small number, it is this category that has been by far the most politically controversial .”91 In short, despite the partial liberalization of dual citizenship in policy and practice, the 2000 law contains explicit restrictions on dual citizenship for immigrants – both for naturalizing adults and for children who acquire German citizenship via jus soli. In comparison to the majority of European countries that have no such restrictions on dual citizenship, and especially in comparison to the Schröder government’s lofty ambitions of establishing full dual citizenship, the new law clearly falls short. Overall, the new law represents a significant liberalization of the earlier law – both the infamous 1913 law and its liberalizing amendments in 1990 and 1993. A reduced residency requirement and the right to citizenship by jus soli have certainly facilitated the process by which foreigners can acquire full rights as German citizens. This constitutes a remarkable change after decades of exclusive reliance on jus sanguinis. Yet the prohibition of dual citizenship makes the liberalization only partial, and it remains to be seen whether Germany will truly open up its conception of who can be German .

88

89 90 91

According to Green, “Between 1975 and 1997, almost 780,000 German children were born to bi-national (married) parents.” Green, “Between Ideology and Pragmatism,” p. 925. Ibid., pp. 926–927. Green, “Beyond Ethnoculturalism?” p. 119. Green, “Between Ideology and Pragmatism,” p. 927.

142

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

The Effects of the New Law (So Far) Remarkably, since the passage of the new compromise law, the question of citizenship reform has virtually disappeared from public debates. And – particularly surprising given the vehemence of the earlier debates and the wide divergence in opinions and political platforms – little discussion or analysis has been generated to determine the extent to which the new law represents significant and substantial reform (which was the goal of the SPD-Greens), or rather merely a minor incremental adjustment that will not change the status quo (which was the goal of the FDP, and especially the CDU/CSU). While it is perhaps too early to provide a defi nitive answer to that question, some informed speculation is warranted, given how crucial the citizenship issue will be for understanding the current and future shape and composition of German society. While the SPD-Green government stressed that the law was “new,” it is in actuality a further amendment of the original 1913 law on German citizenship. The government clearly had a strong interest in avoiding the ominous-sounding phrase “1913 law” for which Germans have so often been reproached. In practice, however, the extent to which the current law is “new” or merely amended is debatable. The crux of the matter is whether the new law will lead to a significant increase in the number of foreigners seeking and obtaining German citizenship. The pattern from before the recent change in the citizenship law is not particularly encouraging. As Figure 6.1 shows, since its peak in 2000, the number of naturalizations in Germany has decreased fairly steadily each year through 2007. In 2007, there were 30,000 fewer naturalizations than in 1999, the year before the reform took effect. While one could argue that a decline is to be expected given the cumulative effect of naturalizations, as over one million people have become naturalized Germans since 2000, this proportion is relatively small given that there are still over seven million foreigners residing in Germany today (about five million of whom are not citizens of EU countries). As Green puts it, “while the incremental liberalization of German citizenship during the 1990s is undeniable, the changes introduced have only had a comparatively modest impact .”92 If current patterns persist, it would appear that the “new” law may not change the situation very much – and in this sense, the CDU and FDP will have obtained what they wanted when they stopped the initial SPD-Green proposal in 1999. 92

Ibid., p. 945.

Partial Liberalization with a Restrictive Backlash

143

200,000 180,000 160,000 140,000 120,000 100,000 80,000 60,000 40,000 20,000 0 1995 1996 1997 1998 1999 2000 2001 2002 2003 2004 2005 2006 2007

Figure 6.1. Annual number of naturalizations of foreigners in Germany. Note: These figures are only for foreigners of non-German descent; they do not include “ethnic Germans” (Aussiedler).

Why do so few eligible foreigners in Germany become German citizens? The answer is complicated, and it involves both the fi ne print and the unwritten effect of the German naturalization law, both before and after the recent reform. One possible reason is that the German welfare state benefits are so generous that most foreigners already receive all rights and privileges, except the right to vote, and therefore they do not feel a strong need to acquire that right since they are otherwise fully satisfied. Yet this argument does not explain the clear difference between Germany and a country such as Sweden. Sweden’s welfare state offers benefits at least as generous as those in Germany, yet its naturalization rate is considerably higher.93 Another possible reason has to do with the €255 processing fee to apply for German citizenship, but this is not very different from other countries – in fact, it is quite reasonable in comparative perspective. A more likely reason is that foreigners in Germany do not want to renounce their current citizenship. Citizens of some countries – including Turkey and Poland – fear that if they give up their current citizenship, they will have to relinquish any inheritance, property, and burial rights in

93

See, e.g., Stephen Castles and Mark J. Miller, The Age of Migration, 3rd ed. (New York: Guilford Press, 2003), p. 246.

144

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

their current country.94 This may be perceived as too high a price to pay by many people who already feel cut off from their families. Of course, there are also cultural and patriotic sentiments that are difficult to come to grips with, and apparently not many foreigners are willing to abandon their current citizenship altogether. This sentiment may be especially pronounced for citizens of countries – like Turkey – who primarily think of citizenship along blood lines. A fi nal reason is more general, involving the broad image of Germany as a place that is not particularly hospitable to immigrants. Despite the large numbers of foreigners who capitalized on Germany’s generous asylum and immigration policies in the 1990s and continue to live there today, many immigrants would prefer – if they have a choice – to live elsewhere. Not only is Germany stigmatized by its racist and exclusionary Nazi past, but it suffers from the perception that non-natives are not welcome.95 For example, the SPD-Green government’s widely publicized “Green Card” program, which sought to attract high-skilled labor (to fi ll important jobs in the high-tech field that Germans are not currently prepared to assume) was only a mixed success, as the government was not able to meet its target of 20,000 workers.96 It certainly did not help that the CDU ran a campaign for the state elections in North Rhine-Westphalia on the theme of “Kinder statt Inder” (“children instead of Indians”) in 2000. In short, even when the economic demand is there, Germany does not seem to appeal as a fi nal destination point to those with other options . According to Green, despite the important changes in the 2000 law, Germany’s citizenship policy retains “more than a whiff of ethnocultural exclusivity .”97 The procedures for naturalization are still complicated, with even longer processing times that last three to four years.98 More importantly, in addition to the associated psychological difficulties, the act of 94

95

96

97 98

According to Philip Martin, the law in Turkey was modified in June 1996, and “Turks who lose their Turkish nationality by becoming a citizen of another country [now] retain their rights to property and inheritance in Turkey.” Martin, “Germany: Reluctant Land of Immigration,” p. 34. Few Turkish-Germans may realize this, however, following a propaganda campaign by some Turkish newspapers in Germany in December 1999, warning people not to give up their Turkish citizenship lest they lose these rights. Migration News 7, no. 1 (January 2000). This point was reinforced in an interview with Kenan Kolat, director of the Turkish Community of Germany (the largest immigrant organization in Germany), Berlin, October 2004. Horst Siebert, “Germany: An Immigration Country” (Kiel: Kiel Institute for World Economics, 2003), pp. 12–13. Green, “Between Ideology and Pragmatism,” p. 948. Ibid., p. 931.

Partial Liberalization with a Restrictive Backlash

145

relinquishing one’s prior citizenship in order to become a naturalized German can be quite costly. Not only must people pay the fee for acquiring German citizenship, but they are often required to pay fees to renounce their other citizenship. And Germany will allow the applicant to retain dual citizenship only if the other country’s fees are equivalent to more than one month of the person’s gross salary or €1,315.99 This leads Green to conclude that the continuing low levels of naturalizations in Germany after the implementation of the new law is the intentional result of exclusionary policies, as he writes that “Germany in effect discourages naturalizations and thereby continues to operate a broadly exclusive citizenship.”100 Whatever the reasons, the main point is that under the previous law, few foreigners were willing to take the necessary steps to acquire German citizenship, and so far the new law has not brought about any dramatic changes in this regard. Will this pattern change? If so, how long it will take? One can conceive of two possible interpretations. The fi rst is rather pessimistic about the potential for substantial change and improvement in the integration of foreigners in Germany. According to this view, the failure of Schröder’s plan to implement dual citizenship, and the passage of the much weaker compromise law, represent a golden opportunity that was lost. It may take decades to develop the kind of momentum and political courage that Schröder initially displayed on behalf of Germany’s millions of foreigners. Moreover, the dismal defeat of Schröder’s plan at the hands of an unusual and massive citizen mobilization – albeit in just one of the sixteen federal states – against dual citizenship may well lay the issue to rest indefi nitely. Finally, unless substantial numbers of foreigners acquire German citizenship and permanently integrate into German society, they will remain relegated as inconvenient third-class residents subject to potential recrimination and violence, and German lineage will continue to be perceived along primordial blood lines. In short, according to this interpretation, the “new” citizenship will actually accomplish little substantive change or improvement, at least in the short and medium term . A second interpretation – emphasized by the SPD-Greens, at least publicly – is much more optimistic. It recognizes that the circumstances surrounding the Hessen elections were disastrous, but it views the setback on the issue of dual citizenship as relatively minor, stressing the positive changes that were achieved in the compromise law. According to this 99 100

Ibid., p. 933. Ibid., p. 921.

146

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

perspective, one should recognize that dual citizenship was too far of a stretch and that it was an unrealistic (and politically naïve) goal. More importantly, however, the changes in the new law do make it easier for foreigners to become German citizens. While it may take some time to build up momentum, the process of further integration is inevitable, given the extent to which foreigners have already become an essential part of German society, and increasingly well-educated and self-sufficient, and their presence is crucial for both the current vitality of the high-technology industry and the future viability of the social security system. Moreover, although this is more of a medium- to long-term possibility, children of foreigners who can now acquire German citizenship automatically through the new right to jus soli will have to decide which citizenship to choose before they turn eighteen (with a five-year grace period following), and many of them may pick German citizenship two decades from now. In other words, according to this interpretation, in due course Germany will eventually reach a point when a critical mass of foreigners will successfully seek and acquire German citizenship, thus encouraging and opening the door for the millions of others who are eligible. It is still too early to say which interpretation will be borne out over the long term, and we are probably better served at this point by asking questions, rather than seeking to specify answers. What does the relative failure of Schröder‘s ambitious goals for citizenship reform mean for the future of group identities in post-unification Germany? Is it a major step backward, the disappearance of a unique opportunity, or is it rather a matter of time before the right political and social conditions reemerge, allowing the reform to be proposed again? How will the change be perceived within the foreign community, and will their disappointment lead to increasing animosity and hostilities between Germans and non-Germans? How would a potential terrorist attack on German soil exacerbate those differences? Will the continued lack of diversity within the people considered citizens of Germany have an impact on the lasting tensions between East and West, who are still co-existing within a limited framework of what it means to be German?101 Or has that framework already been expanded, and will it continue to expand, so that it includes a wider defi nition of what it now means to be German?

101

See Marc Howard, “An East German Ethnicity? Understanding the New Division of Unified Germany,” German Politics and Society 13, no. 4 (1995): 49–70.

Partial Liberalization with a Restrictive Backlash

147

Conclusion The case of Germany has helped to illustrate both parts of the argument developed in the preceding chapters, about how and why citizenship liberalization can occur. As in the cases addressed in Chapter 4, the gradual liberalization that took place over the course of the 1990s occurred as a result of elite politics that did not include widespread consultations with, or mobilization of, the general public. In the German case, this avoidance was intentional, as all of the mainstream parties did not want to fan the flames of the far right by involving a public that has long had latent antiimmigrant sentiments. But after the 1998 elections brought to power a left-of-center SPD/Green government that proposed a rather sweeping and ambitious project to liberalize Germany’s citizenship laws, the center-right CDU/CSU parties decided to flout this taboo by taking the issue of dual citizenship “to the people” by means of a petition campaign against the proposed law. The result – as in Austria, Denmark, and Italy – was the sudden and overwhelming mobilization of a popular will that was clearly and fi rmly anti-immigrant. And the political outcome was the shocking loss of the new government’s majority in the upper house, which led to a watereddown compromise law, which has only partially changed the situation for many foreigners in Germany, and whose longer-term consequences may not be clear for quite some time. In other words, liberalization was occurring in Germany – as in Finland, Luxembourg, and Sweden – as long as public mobilization was not “activated.” As soon as the public got involved, however, the full extent of liberalization was blocked, and additional restrictive features were inserted. The new German citizenship law still represents a considerable liberalizing change when compared with its infamous predecessor from 1913, but the politics surrounding that reform process help to illustrate the tremendous power of mobilizing anti-immigrant sentiment. The next chapter turns to the countries that historically have been liberal in terms of their citizenship policies. Although large-scale liberalizing change is almost by defi nition not possible in those countries, they have certainly not been immune from the pressures of the far right and the public mobilization of anti-immigrant sentiment. Chapter 7 explores the role that this mobilization has played and speculates about future developments in that group of countries.

7 Citizenship Battles in the Historically Liberal Countries France, Belgium, the United Kingdom, and Ireland

Introduction As with the cross-national analysis in Chapter 3, the case study chapters in Part II of this book have thus far focused on the question of continuity and change in the eleven relatively restrictive countries within the EU-15. Indeed, this constitutes the primary empirical evaluation of the theoretical arguments developed in Chapter 3. But even though the four “historically liberal” countries – Belgium, France, Ireland, and the United Kingdom – had little room to liberalize, this does not mean that questions of citizenship were absent from the political agenda. On the contrary, perhaps because of their unusual and relatively generous traditions of granting citizenship to immigrants, citizenship remained a controversial and contentious topic in debates among both political elites and the wider population. Since a larger goal of this book is to bring all of the countries in the EU-27 into a general comparative framework, this chapter examines the politics of citizenship in these four distinctive countries. The purpose is not to provide an exhaustive overview of the citizenship policies of each country, nor a thorough review of the secondary literature on these cases, particularly since France and the United Kingdom have already received disproportionate attention in the scholarship on citizenship.1 As with the previous comparative case study chapters, this chapter focuses on each of the four 1

The individual studies of each country are too numerous to mention. For comparative studies that focus on France and the United Kingdom, see Erik Bleich, Race Politics in Britain and France: Ideas and Policymaking since the 1960s (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2003); Adrian Favell, Philosophies of Integration: Immigration and the Idea of Citizenship in France and Britain (New York: Palgrave, 2001); and Romain Garbaye, Getting into Local Power: The Politics of Ethnic Minorities in British and French Cities (Malden, Mass: Blackwell, 2005).

148

The Historically Liberal Countries

149

cases individually, before turning to some broader comparative conclusions about the politics of citizenship in the historically liberal countries. Unlike in the previous chapters, however, the emphasis is not on testing or applying a theoretical argument – since the main research question is not really applicable to these cases. But each of the case studies explores the same set of political dynamics in order to evaluate the impact of party ideology and far right mobilization on political debates and policy changes on citizenship. The analyses also highlight the particularities of each case, including the two highly politicized policy changes in France in the 1990s, the role of the institutional and cultural divide between Flanders and Wallonia in Belgium, the complex and long-lasting legacy of the British Empire in the United Kingdom, and the effect of the Northern Ireland confl ict in Ireland. Overall, the chapter fi nds that even in countries with longstanding traditions of greater inclusiveness, liberal citizenship policies are by no means static, unquestioned, or even necessarily impervious to restrictive change in the future.

France France has been second only to Germany in terms of the attention that its citizenship policy has received from scholars. While initially framed as the “good” model – based on civic rather than ethnic principles – in Brubaker’s prominent dichotomy between France and Germany, recent scholarship has presented a more nuanced, variegated, and dynamic perspective on France’s citizenship policy. And the prominent role of the far right in French politics over the past two decades certainly contributes to this more mixed picture. In terms of its Citizenship Policy Index (CPI) scores, France improved from a score of 4.22 in the 1980s to 4.97 in 2008. The change was a result of an increase in the naturalization rate – calculated as the number of naturalizations as a percentage of the total foreign population – from an average of 1.22 percent in the 1985–1990 period to 4.73 percent in 2000–2005 – thus eliminating the negative “correction” on the naturalization and dual citizenship components of the CPI. This liberalization was partially offset, however, by the introduction of a new commitment to language and civics requirements in 2003, which slightly lowered France’s 2008 score on the naturalization requirement component of the CPI. France’s contemporary citizenship policy includes double jus soli for third-generation immigrants, automatic jus soli for the second-generation upon reaching the age of eighteen (unless they formally refuse it), a residency requirement of

150

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

five years for immigrants and three years for immigrant spouses of French citizens, and full dual citizenship (which has been openly tolerated and accepted for decades). But the process leading to this policy was by no means clear, straightforward, or inevitable. France is typically viewed as one of the original jus soli countries, an observation that is only partly correct. While jus soli was indeed applied in the eighteenth century,2 the Civil Code of 1803 instituted jus sanguinis, whereby citizenship, like family names, transferred from the father.3 As a result, for the fi rst half of the nineteenth century, most people born on French soil to foreign parents were not French citizens, and thereby could avoid serving in the military. To correct what was viewed as a serious problem for the central state and its army, an 1851 reform – which then became fi rmly institutionalized by an 1889 law that essentially remained unchanged for the next century – established the fi rst version of double jus soli, whereby a French-born child of at least one French-born noncitizen parent automatically became French at birth and could not refuse it. Although it has evolved somewhat over time, this principle “has been the heart of French nationality law” ever since. 4 It has also helped to constitute the “republican tradition” in France, whereby people are recognized as individuals rather than by their group identity or attachments.5 Although the century following the 1889 law did not contain any radical changes to its fundamental principles, a number of modifications did take 2

3

4

5

See, e.g., Peter Sahlins, Unnaturally French: Foreign Citizens in the Old Regime and After (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 2004). See Patrick Weil, Qu’est-ce qu’un français? Histoire de la nationalité française depuis la Révolution (Paris: Grasset, 2002). Note that this early model of jus sanguinis was later imitated by other countries, including Germany. In other words, and quite ironically, France was actually the original founder of the jus sanguinis model that Brubaker attributes to Germany. Although Weil understates the criticism, this point directly undermines much of Brubaker’s dichotomous France-Germany framework. For a similar analysis focusing on the German case, with somewhat more direct criticism of Brubaker, see Dieter Gosewinkel, Einbürgern und Ausschließen: Die Nationalisierung der Staatsangehörigkeit vom Deutschen Bund bis zur Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Goettingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2001). Patrick Weil and Alexis Spire, “France,” in Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, Volume 2, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Eva Ersbøll, Kees Groenendijk, and Harald Waldrauch (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2006), pp. 188–189. See, e.g., Edwige Liliane Lefebvre, “Republicanism and Universalism: Factors of Inclusion and Exclusion in the French Concept of Citizenship,” Citizenship Studies 7, no. 1 (2003): 15–36; Valérie Amiraux and Patrick Simon, “There Are No Minorities Here: Cultures of Scholarship and Public Debate on Immigrants and Integration France,” in International Journal of Comparative Sociology 47, nos. 3–4 (2006): 191–215.

The Historically Liberal Countries

151

place. Following the tremendous human losses of World War I, the French state sought to encourage more naturalizations during the interwar period. In 1927, French women were allowed to keep their French citizenship even if they married foreigners, and also to pass it to their children.6 And the residence requirement for naturalization was reduced from ten to three years. The resulting surge in naturalizations also led to a xenophobic backlash, however, resulting in more restrictive measures in 1934, 1938, and of course under the Vichy regime during World War II.7 After World War II, a new nationality code was implemented in 1945 that increased the residence requirement to five years and limited the rights of French women marrying foreigners. In subsequent years, France introduced a contentious naturalization policy of “selection based on ethnic criteria” that created “a selective preference for foreigners who were considered ‘easier’ to assimilate,” but it was only partially implemented and was phased out within a few years.8 The period of decolonization also led to some policy changes, especially involving the automatic naturalization of Algerians in the 1960s. And a 1973 law fully equalized gender rights, while also granting automatic citizenship to French-born children of parents who were born in former colonies.9 The political dynamics surrounding the various reforms to French citizenship policy were similar to those in many other countries: the parties and social forces on the left generally favored increasing liberalization, while the center-right pushed for more restrictive measures. By the 1970s, the far right, led by Jean-Marie Le Pen’s National Front party, began demanding strict jus sanguinis, selective naturalization, and other severe restrictions. Not to be outdone, and in an attempt to prevent the division of the political right into two camps that would help to ensure a long-term Socialist majority,10 the center-right quickly moved to capitalize on this hot-button

6 7 8 9

10

Weil and Spire, “France,” p. 190. Ibid., pp. 190–191. Ibid., p. 192. Ibid., p. 194. Also see Paul Lagarde, La nationalité française, 3rd ed. (Paris: Dalloz, 1997). This had been the goal of President François Mitterrand, who implemented a cynical ploy to divide the French right by instituting proportional representation, which thereby strengthened the far right. See, e.g., Martin A. Schain, “The National Front in France and the Construction of Political Legitimacy,” West European Politics 10, no. 2 (1987): p. 248; Guy Lardeyret, “The Problem with PR,” Journal of Democracy 2, no. 3 (1991): p. 32.

152

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

topic.11 By the mid-1980s – just as the National Front achieved electoral success for the fi rst time in the 1984 European elections – citizenship had become a major political issue, as “the extreme right (and shortly thereafter the mainstream right) began publicly attacking the ease with which foreigners became French.”12 This politicization only escalated with the changing governments over the next decade or more. The government of center-right Prime Minister Jacques Chirac – then in a tense “cohabitation” with President Mitterrand, a Socialist – sought to impose several restrictions to double jus soli and spousal naturalization in 1986, but Chirac yielded to the strong opposition by parties, movements, and protests by the left, instead creating a commission to propose reforms to the citizenship law. The 1988 report ultimately shaped the dramatic reforms that were implemented in 1993, known as the “Pasqua laws,” named after then–Interior Minister Charles Pasqua. The 1993 law represented a tremendous restrictive turn, one that no other liberal country has witnessed in recent times.13 Most importantly, it restricted the simple jus soli rights of children born in France by replacing automatic naturalization at eighteen with significant bureaucratic obstacles and procedures, partially limited the application of double jus soli, and increased the residency and other requirements for naturalizing spouses. The only liberalizing element of the 1993 law was a new provision requiring the administration to justify rejections on the bases of concrete reasons.14 Although major, the 1993 reforms proved to be short-lived. After the 1997 parliamentary elections yielded a new Socialist government led by Prime Minister Lionel Jospin – this time in “cohabitation” with Chirac, who had been elected President in 1995 – the 1993 reforms were reversed following a report by a commission directed by historian Patrick Weil.15 Adopted in 1998, the new law restored the double jus soli, re-simplified the process for automatic jus soli at age eighteen, and reduced the delay for 11

12 13

14 15

See Martin A. Schain, “The Extreme-Right and Immigration Policy-Making: Measuring Direct and Indirect Effects,” West European Politics 29, no. 2 (2006): 270–289. Weil and Spire, “France,” p. 196. See the excellent account of this process in Randall Hansen and Jobst Koehler, “Issue Defi nition, Political Discourse and the Politics of Nationality Reform in France and Germany,” European Journal of Political Research 44 (2005): 623–644. Weil and Spire, “France,” pp. 198–200. This report was published as Patrick Weil, Rapport au premier ministre sur les législations de la nationalité et de l’immigration (Paris: La Documentation française, 1997) ; see also the account in Hansen and Koehler, “Issue Defi nition, Political Discourse and the Politics of Nationality Reform,” p. 635.

The Historically Liberal Countries

153

spousal naturalization. Moreover, the obligation to justify naturalization rejections was continued.16 Over the course of the next decade, the core foundations of the 1998 law have remained intact, but the election of a center-right government in 2002 led to several new restrictions implemented in 2003, including a tightening of citizenship rights for youths arriving in France without parents and the addition of language evaluation (by means of an oral interview) for naturalizing immigrants and spouses, as well as proof of “sufficient knowledge about the rights and responsibilities of French citizenship.”17 Nonetheless, even though the issues of immigration and integration have become even more politicized since the riots in the French banlieues in 2005 and the 2007 election of President Nicolas Sarkozy – who continues to advocate and implement harsher measures on immigration – the fundamental elements of the 1998 law on citizenship are no longer contested, even by the right.18 Overall, the history of France’s citizenship policy has been volatile and occasionally turbulent. Yet despite the many policy changes, it has consistently been among the most liberal in the EU-15. It was shaped by France’s historical status as a colonial/military power and an early democratizer, which (as discussed in Chapter 2) created both the supply and the demand for new immigrants and citizens. The French case highlights the importance of political factors for understanding national citizenship policy. Most of the policy changes resulted from ideological positions that were relatively predictable given the forces in power at that time. And although the far right was never directly involved in policymaking, its consistent electoral strength since the 1980s – scoring between 10 percent and 20 percent in most elections – shows the tremendous influence it has had on French politics. On many occasions, the parties of the center-right “moved to the right” by taking a hard line on immigration and citizenship issues as a way to prevent the National Front from receiving even more votes. Although the current status of France’s relatively liberal citizenship policy appears to be stable, given the history of frequent change and the current constellation of political forces, one can certainly

16 17 18

Weil and Spire, “France,” pp. 200–202. Ibid., pp. 202–203. Patrick Weil, personal communication, February 2008. In other words, Sarkozy and the right are turning their attention to questions of entry (and exit, as they actively push for the deportation of undocumented immigrants), without putting into question the citizenship rights of the second generation born in France.

154

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

not rule out the potential for another restrictive backlash at some point in the longer-term future.

Belgium On the surface, Belgium is a small country with a long-standing history of liberal citizenship policies that have become even more liberal in the past decade. Indeed, as a result of its higher naturalization rate, which increased from 2.42 percent to 7.28 percent, Belgium’s CPI score increased from 5.0 in the 1980s to 5.5 in 2008. Belgium provides double jus soli for third-generation immigrants, jus soli after birth and naturalization by declaration for people who have lived in Belgium for seven or more years, naturalization by application for foreigners after only three years of residence (two years for refugees and people who are stateless), without any fees for applicants, and full dual citizenship. Moreover, contrary to the trend in many countries to add language and civic integration requirements to naturalization, in 2000 Belgium actually removed a requirement that demanded proof of integration. This leads to the conclusion that “Belgium has one of the most liberal legislations on nationality in the European Union .”19 Yet below the surface lies a deep – and apparently growing – schism between Dutch-speaking Flanders and French-speaking Wallonia that has developed into a well-organized movement for secession by Flanders, which prevented the formation of a new government for over nine months in 2007–2008. The far right has been growing in both parts of the country, although it is particularly strong in Flanders. As a result, Belgium’s citizenship policy rests in a precarious balance, with a possible implosion of the country into two parts, alongside growing xenophobia .20 The history of Belgian citizenship helps to explain the origins of the current situation. After becoming independent in 1830, following periods of French and Dutch control, Belgium largely followed the French model of citizenship. Even before independence, it followed the French code civil, instituted in 1803, which was based on jus sanguinis of the father. Little changed until 1909, when jus soli provisions were added, including both double jus soli and provisions for naturalization based on residence in

19

20

Marco Martiniello, “Belgium’s Immigration Policy,” International Migration Review 37, no. 1 (2003): 231. Edwige Liliane Lefebvre, “Belgian Citizenship: Managing Linguistic, Regional, and Economic Demands,” Citizenship Studies 7, no. 1 (2003): 111–134.

The Historically Liberal Countries

155

Belgium.21 This changed again in 1922, when jus sanguinis returned and citizenship was determined primarily by “position of Belgian status,” which was tightened further in 1932.22 But the 1980s brought about a shift back to the jus soli principle, instituted in the Code of Belgian Nationality passed in 1984.23 This also included an acceptance of dual citizenship for immigrants, although curiously the same provision was denied to emigrants who naturalized elsewhere and were forced to give up their Belgian citizenship (a quirk that remained until 2006).24 Although several minor modifications were made over the years, this law remained intact until 2000, when the even more generous law, nicknamed the “quickly-Belgian-law,” took effect.25 In terms of the politics of citizenship, most of the discussions about the shape and form of Belgium’s policy have remained at the elite level. The driving force has been a shared view that an inclusive citizenship policy will lead to a more integrated population. Foblets and Loones portray it as “a new vision of citizenship and membership in society … that is optimistic about the potential of nationality as a means of integration.”26 This logic was particularly important for the Ministry of Justice’s support for the 2000 law, based on the idea that “a foreigner wishing to acquire Belgian nationality is seen as a citizen of the world, with a positive attitude to a variety of cultures and ready to co-invest in the future of the multicultural society.”27 Such an optimistic approach – along with the contested nature of Belgian identity itself – helps to explain why Belgium bucked the trend of adding civic integration requirements. It is perhaps surprising that Belgian citizenship policy elicited so little political and public opposition, even though it is based on principles that are hardly unanimous and could easily be contested. The reason most likely has to do with the two separate domains within the federal structure, which for decades (if not centuries) have functioned in isolation from one 21

22 23 24

25 26 27

Marie-Claire Foblets and Sander Loones, “Belgium,” in Bauböck et al., eds., Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, pp. 63–104. Ibid., pp. 68–69. Ibid., pp. 70–71. Belgium was the only European country to accept dual citizenship for immigrants while denying it to emigrants. Many countries did the exact opposite, which is more logical in some sense, since emigrants not only are viewed as less “threatening,” but also can maintain social, cultural, and economic ties to their country of origin if they keep its citizenship. Foblets and Loones, “Belgium,” p. 71. Ibid., p. 78. Ibid.

156

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

another, and – until recently – without much regard for the national level. Indeed, the linguistic, cultural, and political differences between Flanders and Wallonia are striking.28 As Martiniello argues, Most issues linked to integration (education, health, housing, employment) are dealt with either by the communities or by the regions, i.e, the federated entities of the Belgian state. Therefore, there is no Belgian model of integration. Historically, different approaches developed in the north and in the south of the country. Flanders’ approach was for a long time inspired by the Dutch multicultural model, whereas Wallonia was more similar to the French republican model .

Given these regional and institutional dynamics, national policymakers were able to establish citizenship laws without facing the kind of direct pressure that a more unitary centralized system would elicit. The situation in Belgium is far from static, however, and in recent years – particularly as Flanders has prospered economically while Wallonia lags behind with high unemployment and low growth – the tenuous balance has been shaken by an increasingly well-organized and self-confident separatist movement in Flanders, including the far right Vlaams Belang (Flemish Interest) party, which calls for complete independence. Even the centerright parties are now demanding greater delegation of powers from the national government to the regions, including on the issues of immigration and citizenship.29 It is hard to predict how far the current crisis will extend, and whether Belgium – whose capital city, Brussels, is also the main capital of the European Union, thus of wider symbolic and practical importance for the entire region – will even remain a country. One rather unlikely possibility is that anti-immigrant sentiment will emerge as “a unifying issue” in this otherwise bitterly divided country.30 But would national policymakers be willing to sacrifice Belgium’s liberal citizenship policy as a means of preserving the national unity of the country? It is impossible to predict, but the situation remains volatile and uncertain, thus further illustrating that even in the historically liberal countries, citizenship remains a major political issue.

28

29

30

See, e.g., Jaak Billiet, Bart Maddens, and André-Paul Frognier, “Does Belgium (Still) Exist? Differences in Political Culture between Flemings and Walloons,” West European Politics 29, no. 5 (2006): 912–932; and Lefebvre, “Belgian Citizenship.” Carl Mortished, “Belgium Grapples with Rising Mood of Separation,” The Globe and Mail, September 13, 2007, p. B10. Dan Bilefsky, “Bickering Belgians Find a Point of Unity in Toughening Borders,” New York Times, October 10, 2007.

The Historically Liberal Countries

157

The United Kingdom The history of national citizenship in the United Kingdom is vastly different from that of any other country in Europe – or elsewhere in the world, for that matter. As a result of the breadth and complexity of the former British Empire, the tenuous coexistence between England, Wales, Scotland, and Northern Ireland, the long-standing tradition of common law emphasizing individual rights over national unity, and the existence of multiple, overlapping, and unclear categories of membership, British citizenship has an “extraordinarily confused history.”31 This brief overview cannot do justice to all of the details, which have been recounted in authoritative fashion by other scholars,32 but it seeks to trace the main contours of the changes in British policy, while also focusing on the politics of citizenship in this fascinating case. In terms of its CPI scores, the United Kingdom is the only historically liberal country whose score decreased, dropping from 5.47 to 4.97, as a result of the civic integration requirements that have recently been adopted. Nonetheless, Britain provides for jus soli at birth (as long as one parent has an unlimited residence permit), jus soli after birth as a right, residency requirements of five years for immigrants and three years for spouses, and full dual citizenship. Although the United Kingdom clearly fits into the historically liberal category – and Britain was of course one of the earliest countries to develop modern capitalism and democracy – this tradition was not actually built on “modern” foundations. Indeed, Britain’s tradition of jus soli evolved during feudal times, when birth on a lord’s land signified allegiance to that lord.33 Moreover, the rights of jus soli were later extended to people born on territories that were part of Britain’s vast empire all around the world. That said, the very concept of British citizenship was until recent decades much less meaningful, as it was associated with residence and identification with the British Empire and the Crown, not the much smaller territory of the 31

32

33

Ann Dummett, “United Kingdom,” in Bauböck et al., eds., Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, pp. 551–585. See Randall Hansen, Citizenship and Immigration in Post-war Britain: The Institutional Origins of a Multicultural Nation (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000); Rieko Karatani, Defi ning British Citizenship: Empire, Commonwealth, and Modern Britain (London: Frank Cass, 2003); Kathleen Paul, Whitewashing Britain: Race and Citizenship in the Postwar Era (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1997); and James Hampshire, Citizenship and Belonging: Immigration and the Politics of Demographic Governance in Postwar Britain (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005). Christian Joppke, Immigration and the Nation-State: The United States, Germany, and Great Britain (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), pp. 112–113.

158

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

United Kingdom itself.34 And the large-scale pressures of immigration and integration only emerged in full force after the decline and end of colonial rule, starting after World War II. Until that point, procedures for naturalization did exist, but the Aliens Act of 1844 allowed the Home Office to administer naturalization based on a simple character reference, requiring only a fee and an oath of allegiance.35 This policy was amended by the Naturalization Act of 1870, which allowed “aliens” to hold land and to naturalize after five years of residence or service to the Crown.36 And although jus soli was the cornerstone of British citizenship policy, provisions for jus sanguinis also existed for the foreign-born children (i.e., those born outside the territory of the empire) of nationals who were working in the Crown’s service.37 Facing the independence of many of its colonies, Britain had to adjust its categories of membership rather quickly – and clumsily – in the postwar period. While seeking to preserve the relevance of the monarchy, the British Nationality Act of 1948 retained “subjecthood as in theory a nationality of the whole empire, within which there were to be separate citizenships, explaining that nationality (subjecthood) was to be the genus, citizenship the species.”38 The resulting “Commonwealth of Nations” created multiple categories that changed over the ensuing decades. The statuses of “Citizen of the UK-and-Colonies” (CUKC) and “Citizen of the Independent Commonwealth Countries” (CICC) meant that people in Commonwealth countries were still considered subjects. Those in the CUKC category were considered as full citizens already, while the CICCs had the right to return to the United Kingdom (until the law changed in 1962), and thereby to benefit from privileged access to British citizenship if they resided in the United Kingdom for one year.39 People from outside the Commonwealth (neither CUKC or CICC) faced more difficult requirements – though still rather reasonable in comparative perspective – as they needed five years of residence, sufficient language knowledge, and evidence of good character.40 Yet at that point there was still very little realization that “subjecthood” was an outmoded concept, and as a result the policy “failed to recognise the reality

34 35 36

37 38 39 40

Dummett, “United Kingdom,” pp. 560–561. Ibid., p. 559. Clive Parry, Nationality and Citizenship Laws of the Commonwealth and of the Republic of Ireland (London: Stevens and Sons Limited, 1957), p. 79. Dummett, “United Kingdom,” p. 559. Ibid., p. 562. Hansen, Citizenship and Immigration in Post-war Britain, pp. 45–46. Dummett, “United Kingdom,” p. 562.

The Historically Liberal Countries

159

that new states’ citizenships were also new states’ nationalities.”41 In short, the 1948 Act was untenable in the new post-imperial era. The ensuing impasse led to the politicization of immigration and citizenship over the next several decades, and the concept of race began to enter into the debates – although scholars today still disagree on the extent to which race was an explicit part of the decision-making process. Dummett argues that the 1945–1951 Labour government explicitly discouraged “coloured” immigration, and the Commonwealth Immigrants Act – passed by the conservative government in 1962 – allowed immigration officers to discriminate between white and black applicants.42 Hansen maintains, however, that the decision to distinguish between British and colonial citizens of the Commonwealth was not actively racial but instead a response to various pressures, including housing shortages, immigration surges, and public attitudes.43 Conservative policymakers described the legislation as a “distasteful necessity.”44 In any case, following the 1962 Act, multiple and often contradictory stop-gap solutions emerged, including the Immigration Act of 1971, which distinguished between “patrial” (those born or with close connections to the United Kingdom, who were mostly white) and “non-patrial” (aliens and those coming from former colonies or Commonwealth countries).45 The former were entitled to the “right of abode,” meaning that they were free from immigration prohibitions. As a result, “patriality had become a quasi-nationality, and the situation was so confusing that it soon became clear that a thorough overhaul of British nationality law was needed.”46 Confusion and uncertainty reigned until the 1981 British Nationality Act – passed by a new conservative government elected in 1979 – came into effect. This act transformed the “patrial” category into British citizenship, while creating two new statuses from the nonpatrial group 41 42

43 44 45

46

Ibid., p. 563. Ibid., p. 565. Paul concurs with Dummett‘s interpretation of a racialized immigration control, pointing out that Irish citizens were excluded from immigration controls. See Paul, Whitewashing Britain, p. 109. Hansen, Citizenship and Immigration in Post-war Britain, p. 120. Ibid., p. 111. Ibid., pp. 194–197. Note that Hansen points out the racial basis of the 1971 closure, stating, “The patriality provisions were clearly designed to secure access for Australians, Canadians, and New Zealanders while denying it to the rest of the Commonwealth” (p. 195). Dummett, “United Kingdom,” p. 568. Evans, writing in 1972, points out that the Immigration Act “will probably not be the fi nal stage in the process of shedding the vestiges of Empire.” See J. M. Evans, “Immigration Act 1971,” Modern Law Review 35, no. 5 (1972): 508.

160

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

(British Dependent Territories Citizens and British Overseas Citizens) and also preserving some residual categories (British subjects and British Protected Persons). Although certainly not parsimonious or typical, this law did fi nally establish a conception of British citizenship more in line with that of other modern European countries.47 The tradition of jus soli was maintained, but it was restricted so that it now applied only to those born in the United Kingdom to either a British citizen or a legally resident parent . The requirements for naturalization remained unchanged. And dual citizenship – which had developed much earlier in Britain than in other European countries48 – continued to be tolerated and accepted. The 1981 Act established the basis for the current citizenship policy of the United Kingdom. Since then, the most notable amendment came in the Nationality, Immigration and Asylum Act of 2002, which was mainly concerned with toughening the rules on immigration and asylum, but also added the new civic integration requirements. The content of the requirements delineated in the 2002 Act remains the subject of much discussion and debate.49 In principle, naturalizing citizens must demonstrate – either by taking a course or passing a test – that they have an adequate level of English (or Welsh, Scottish, or Gaelic) and “sufficient knowledge” of “life in the U.K.” They must also be present at a mandatory citizenship ceremony that includes a loyalty oath to demonstrate commitment to democratic values and civic duties.50 Importantly, in an attempt to integrate the full families of immigrants, spouses are no longer exempt from these requirements. Overall, these changes certainly represent a significant attempt to restrict the perceived openness of the British model of immigration and citizenship. As in the other historically liberal countries, the issue of citizenship in Britain has been highly politicized. But the political dynamics have been quite different from France and Belgium, which have strong and organized far right movements that exert influence on the rest of the political 47

48

49

50

For a skeptical view of the changing nature of British citizenship, see Michelle Everson, “‘Subjects,’ or ‘Citizens of Erewhon’? Law and Non-Law in the Development of a ‘British Citizenship,’” Citizenship Studies 7, no. 1 (2003): 57–83. Dummett writes, “The UK has always tolerated plural nationality (except for some limitations between 1870 and 1948)” (p. 552). See the Green Paper published by the Home Office’s Border and Immigration Agency, “The Path to Citizenship: Next Steps in Reforming the Immigration System” (February 2008). Also see the citizenship review prepared by Lord Goldsmith at the request of Prime Minister Gordon Brown, “Citizenship: Our Common Bond” (Ministry of Justice, March 2008). Dummett, “United Kingdom,” pp. 574–575.

The Historically Liberal Countries

161

spectrum. In the United Kingdom, far right parties receive very little support and have almost no direct influence.51 Moreover, the typical distinction between center-left and center-right parties has less relevance in the British case, where both the Labour and Conservative parties – though not always in agreement on the specifics, of course – have pushed for restrictive measures when in power. While unusual in comparative perspective, this feature is best understood in the context of the earlier British system of citizenship, which was initially open to people from all over the world, but has seen incremental shifts in a restrictive direction. And in the post-9/11 and especially “7/7”52 era, all parties now share a common fear of domestic terrorism committed by immigrants (or citizens) who are not integrated in or loyal to the United Kingdom, thus creating political competition to advocate for increasingly restrictive measures. Nonetheless, even with this political context and the resulting push for “civic integration” as a condition for citizenship, Britain remains one of the most liberal countries within the EU-15.

Ireland Given that Ireland was controlled by Britain for centuries – most formally and recently as part of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland starting in 1801 – it is not surprising that Ireland’s citizenship policy shares many features with Britain’s.53 Yet while the broad similarities remain, Ireland has charted its own course since independence in 1922. As a country of emigration, it has sought to foster ties with its diaspora by providing very generous jus sanguinis provisions, while also maintaining a strong tradition of jus soli (at birth and after birth), relatively easy naturalization requirements (four years for immigrants, three for spouses), and dual citizenship for immigrants. In comparative perspective, Irish citizenship policy is one of the most liberal in the EU-15, and its CPI score increased from 4.36 in the 1980s to 4.86 in 2008 (following the increase in its naturalization rate from 0.37 in 1985–1990 to 1.37% in 2000–2005).54 But the 51

52 53 54

Parties such as the British National Front (BNF) and the British National Party (BNP) have always received well under 1% of the vote in national elections. That said, the BNP has had increasing success in local elections since 2005, but it still remains a marginal (and divided) party. “7/7” refers to the July 7, 2005, London bombings. Parry, Nationality and Citizenship Laws, esp. p. 927. Note that in 2008 Ireland still received a “penalty” of 0.5 (down from 0.75 in the 1980s) based on its still relatively low naturalization rate. If Ireland were to have a rate above 2.5%, its overall CPI score would reach 5.86, higher than any other country. The relatively

162

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

issues of immigration and citizenship have become increasingly politicized, culminating in a controversial referendum in 2004 that resulted in a slightly restrictive turn. Although perhaps not likely, as immigration expands in Ireland, one should not rule out further restrictive measures in the future. A long-standing contentious issue in Irish citizenship policy has involved the status of Northern Ireland, which is part of the United Kingdom.55 After receiving its independence as the Irish Free State (later renamed the Republic of Ireland in 1937), the new country’s constitution granted citizenship to anyone born in Ireland, thus leaving ambiguous whether or not this included the North.56 In subsequent years it was decided that this did apply to people living in the North, although the citizenship would not be forced upon them. The modern foundation of Ireland’s citizenship policy was established by the Irish Nationality and Citizenship Act of 1956. This law maintained the tradition of jus soli, while also extending jus sanguinis rights. Indeed, it recognized that Irish citizenship could pass from either the father or mother, and it granted naturalization on the basis of “Irish descent or Irish associations.”57 It also incorporated dual citizenship, out of “the desire for a country of emigration not ‘to disown our own flesh and blood .’”58 Naturalization requirements remained quite liberal – especially by marriage, where female spouses would acquire Irish citizenship immediately by declaration, and male spouses by application after one year of continuous residence59 – but given the preponderance of emigration, rather than immigration, this was not yet much of an issue. An amendment in 1986 eliminated the gender distinction, while imposing a three-year waiting period for foreign spouses of both genders .60 The signing of the “Good Friday” agreement in 1998 resulted in a further modification to Ireland’s citizenship policy. Although the primary objective of the accord was peace, of course, a strategy toward that end

55

56

57 58 59 60

low naturalization rate in Ireland is somewhat puzzling and has not been adequately accounted for in the literature. One possible reason may be that most of the “foreign” residents of Ireland are British, and therefore do not see the need to naturalize as Irish citizens. If so, the rising proportion of third-country nationals will probably result in an increase in the naturalization rate over time. In 1927 the country name was formally changed to “The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.” John Handoll, “Ireland,” in Bauböck et al., eds., Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, p. 294. Ibid., pp. 297–298. Also see Parry, Nationality and Citizenship Laws, p. 961. Handoll, “Ireland,” p. 298. Parry, Nationality and Citizenship Laws, pp. 960–961. Handoll, “Ireland,” p. 299.

The Historically Liberal Countries

163

was to assure the Northern Irish that they could have either British or Irish citizenship, or both. Article 2 of the revised constitution confi rmed that “It is the entitlement and birthright of every person born in the island of Ireland … to be part of the Irish nation.”61 A subsequent clarification in 2001 further specified that “every person born in the island of Ireland is entitled to be an Irish citizen.”62 Yet this policy – meant to apply to the unique situation with Northern Ireland – also unintentionally created a problem that has become increasingly controversial as Ireland has made the transition to being a country of immigration. Until recently, the issue of citizenship was not politicized and instead remained on the elite level. Not only did the confl ict in Northern Ireland dominate the public agenda, but as the last of the EU-15 to become a net receiving country, Ireland did not have to confront the challenge of immigrant integration until the past decade .63 Moreover, the country is relatively underpopulated and has been experiencing an economic boom since the mid-1990s, and thereby until recently avoided the strong antiimmigrant sentiment that other countries with longer traditions of immigration and economic stagnation have been experiencing for decades. Nonetheless, in the years following the Good Friday agreement, there was a growing awareness – or at least perception – of the “unintended consequences” of the extremely liberal jus soli rule.64 Apparently, growing numbers of pregnant undocumented immigrants (the most prominent examples were from Nigeria) were arriving in Ireland for the purpose of giving birth to a baby who would receive Irish citizenship, and thereby extend residence rights to the mother (as caretaker) as well. Although Handoll refers to this scenario as “something of a caricature,” it fueled a public “acrimonious debate” about what some called “citizen tourism.”65 61

62 63

64

65

Ibid., p. 300. Also see Siobhán Mullally, “Children, Citizenship and Constitutional Change,” in Immigration and Social Change in the Republic of Ireland, edited by Bryan Fanning (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2007), p. 27. Handoll, “Ireland,” p. 301. See Martin Ruhs, “Ireland: A Crash Course in Immigration Policy,” in Migration Information Source, available at http://www.migrationinformation.org/Profiles/display.cfm?ID=260 (accessed May 24, 2009). Ruhs writes, “In 1996, Ireland reached its migration ‘turning point,’ making it the last EU member state to become a country of net immigration.” Handoll, “Ireland,” p. 293. According to Fanning and Mutwarasibo, “It replaced an all island claim of sovereignty with a jus soli citizenship birthright to all children born on the island of Ireland. The benefit to immigrants was unintentional.” See Bryan Fanning and Fidele Mutwarasibo, “Nationals/Non-Nationals: Immigration, Citizenship and Politics in the Republic of Ireland,” Ethnic and Racial Studies 30, no. 3 (2007): 446. Handoll, “Ireland,” p. 305. The issue extended beyond Ireland, as the 2004 Chen case at the European Court of Justice affi rmed the right of a Chinese-national mother to free

164

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

As a result, both the Minister of Justice and the Supreme Court agreed that Irish-born children did not have a constitutional right to have their parents be residents.66 These discussions also took place within a climate of increasing “racialization” of Irish citizenship.67 The reaction to a perceived asylum “crisis” in the late 1990s and the expansion of both “national” and “non-national” immigration in the 2000s fueled the latent anti-immigrant fears of many Irish citizens.68 As a result, supporters of further restrictions took a bold step by invoking Ireland’s long-standing history of holding a public referendum on major policy issues.69 A referendum took place on June 11, 2004, where 80 percent of the voters supported the proposed change in the Constitution. This resulted in the Irish Nationality and Citizenship Act of 2004, which established that jus soli is available to a person born in Ireland to non-national parents only if one parent has been a resident for three of the four years preceding the birth.70 In comparative perspective, this jus soli policy remains very liberal – and it received the full two points for that component in the CPI71 – but the extent of the public mobilization in this mild “restrictive backlash” was striking . The political dynamics in Ireland are more difficult to identify, since the issue of Northern Ireland has dominated politics for decades. The centerright Fianna Fáil/Progressive Democrat government has taken a stricter approach on these issues, including sponsoring the 2004 referendum, whereas Fine Gael, the Green Party, and Sinn Fein have generally opposed these measures.72 Although the far right remains an inconsequential political force in Ireland, the mobilization of public opinion in the 2004 referendum shows the political power on this issue. As Ireland continues to receive

66 67 68 69

70

71

72

movement (in this case a long-term residency permit in the U.K.) after having her child in Northern Ireland. See, e.g., Francis G. Jacobs, “Citizenship of the European Union: A Legal Analysis,” European Law Journal 13, no. 5 (2007): 591–610. Handoll, “Ireland,” p. 306. Fanning and Mutwarasibo, “Nationals/Non-Nationals,” pp. 449–450. Ibid. See, e.g., Jane O’Mahony, “The Irish Referendum Experience,” Representation 35, no. 4 (1998): 225–236. See Brian Lavery, “Voters Reject Automatic Citizenship for Babies Born in Ireland,” New York Times, June 13, 2004. Note that this condition does not apply to children of British citizens or to those with no restriction on their residence (most EU citizens). Indeed, before the change in 2004, Ireland was the only European country to allow unconditional jus soli, along the lines of the United States and Canada. In this sense, one can argue that the 2004 reform represents a “normalization” of Ireland’s jus soli provisions. Handoll, “Ireland,” pp. 318–319.

The Historically Liberal Countries

165

ever greater numbers of immigrants, new challenges will likely emerge, and it is quite possible – even if unlikely – that the institutional preference for holding public referenda could result in further restrictive measures in the future . Plans are already under way to implement “integration measures” as part of a “pathway” to citizenship, which could put Ireland in line with the United Kingdom (and other countries) that have been emphasizing “civic integration” for immigrants who seek to become citizens.73 Nonetheless, although it is hard to predict the type and extent of potential change that could arise, for the foreseeable future Ireland’s citizenship policy will certainly remain among the most liberal within the EU-15.

The Politics of Citizenship in the Historically Liberal Countries This overview of the four historically liberal countries highlights both a major similarity and several key differences in terms of the politics of citizenship. The underlying parallel is the fact that in all four countries, citizenship remains politically contested, and restrictive forces have considerable (and in some cases growing) influence. This is perhaps surprising given that it would be logical to assume that the issue had been “resolved” long ago in the historically liberal countries. On the contrary, it appears that the “outlier” status, as identified in early chapters, of these more inclusive countries has given more ammunition and motivation to those favoring restrictive measures. When compared with the countries of liberalizing change that were examined in Chapter 4 – where the liberalization took place without much public debate or involvement – it is striking how politicized the issue remains in the historically liberal countries. Although purely speculation, it is probably not an exaggeration to say that the liberal citizenship policies of countries such as Sweden or Finland may have a greater likelihood of outlasting those of Belgium or Ireland. In terms of the demographic situation in these countries, Table 7.1 shows that all four countries have relatively high percentages of foreigners in their populations. While the figures are not necessarily higher than those for the eleven restrictive and medium countries shown in Table 3.2, they do not take into account the many people who used to be foreigners but have become citizens over the preceding decades. In other words, the exposure

73

See “English Essential to Open Up Citizenship ‘Pathway,’” Irish Independent, May 2, 2008.

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

166

Table 7.1. Demographics in the Historically Liberal Countries

Country France Belgium United Kingdom Ireland

Population size

Number of foreigners in the population

Percentage of foreigners in the population

62,518,571 10,445,852 60,059,900 4,109,173

3,263,000 853,369 2,941,400 255,400

5.22 8.17 4.90 6.22

Source: Eurostat. Note: Most figures are from 2005 (several are from the most recent year available).

to people who at one point were “foreign” is considerably higher in these four countries. A closer look at the historically liberal countries also shows that the ideological dynamics do not always work in the same way. Whereas France presents a classic case of center-left pressures for liberalization against center-right preference for greater restrictiveness, Ireland has this left-right dynamic only to a moderate degree, the United Kingdom even less, and Belgium hardly at all. The Irish political dynamic has been dominated by the conflict over Northern Ireland. In the United Kingdom, while the left is generally more pro-immigrant than the right, both sides have favored strong rhetoric and policies as a means of closing the previously wide-open doors that remained after the demise of the British Empire. And the Belgian party system is so focused on the regional dynamic within an ever-moredeeply divided country that there is little national ideological coherence on these issues. The extent and type of public mobilization are also quite different across these four cases. France and Belgium both have strong and influential far right parties, though in the latter case the agenda is intertwined with the separatist movement in Flanders. The National Front has certainly had a tremendous influence on French politics since the 1980s, causing the centerright to adopt many of its themes and policies as an attempt to prevent it from becoming too powerful. In the United Kingdom and Ireland, in contrast, far right movements are virtually nonexistent and have little influence on mainstream political debates. However, the Irish institutional requirement to hold a referendum for constitutional amendments created an opportunity in 2004 – which could happen again in the future, along the lines of the June 2008 rejection of the Lisbon Treaty – to “consult” public

The Historically Liberal Countries

167

opinion on issues related to immigrants. As with the example of public mobilization in Germany, discussed in Chapter 6, the outcome created a (still mild) “restrictive backlash” in Ireland. Looking at the content of change that has taken place within the citizenship policies of these four countries, we see that both France and the United Kingdom have recently led the charge to add “civic integration” requirements for naturalizing citizens.74 But Ireland has resisted this new trend, and Belgium actually eliminated a proof of integration requirement. Aside from the civic integration requirements, which slightly reduced the CPI scores of France and the United Kingdom, the other changes were a result of increasing naturalization rates (in France, Belgium, and Ireland). A final set of differences involves the historical and institutional dynamics in each of the cases. Although Chapter 2 highlighted the overall historical similarity among these three75 countries in terms of developing liberal citizenship policies as a result of their experience as major colonial powers and early democratizers, each has had to contend with vastly different actors and institutions. France is a highly centralized system where the party in power has the ability to implement new laws that might sharply contradict previous ones. Belgium is consumed by its regional division, making national policymaking an increasingly obsolete endeavor – a feature that is compounded by the dual nature of Brussels as the capital city of both Belgium and the EU. Britain’s citizenship policy has been coping with the legacy of its former imperial status, and searching for creative solutions for treating former colonial subjects. And Ireland continues to grapple with the longstanding question of Northern Ireland – now in a fragile peace for over a decade – while also adapting to its very recent status as a country of immigration. As a result of these differences, it is more difficult to draw clear-cut theoretical conclusions about the politics of citizenship in these historically liberal countries than in the previous case study chapters where a similar set of arguments resulted in a similar set of outcomes. In this sense, the cases examined here stand outside the main theoretical question and argument developed in this book with reference to the contemporary time period. 74

75

See, e.g., Christian Joppke, “Beyond National Models: Civic Integration Policies for Immigrants in Western Europe,” West European Politics 30, no. 1 (2007): 1–22; Amitai Etzioni, “Citizenship Tests: A Comparative, Communitarian Perspective,” Political Quarterly 78, no. 3 (2007): 353–363; and Pontus Odmalm, “One Size Fits All? European Citizenship, National Citizenship Policies and Integration Requirements,” Representation 43, no. 1 (2007): 19–34. Recall that Ireland was then part of the United Kingdom.

168

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

Yet the fi ndings and arguments of this chapter stress the ongoing and lively nature of the politics of citizenship. They show that it is not impossible that a restrictive backlash could occur in one or more of these four countries one day. And they add variety and nuance to the broader discussion about continuity and change in the citizenship policies of the EU-15.

8 The New European Frontier The Accession-12

Introduction Although the main themes of this book concern the EU-15, or “older” countries of the European Union, this chapter extends the analysis to the group of countries that I refer to as the “Accession-12.” The EU now consists of twenty-seven member-states, as ten countries – Cyprus and Malta, along with post-communist Czech Republic, Estonia, Hungary, Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, Slovakia, and Slovenia – became members in 2004, and Bulgaria and Romania joined them in 2007. Given how recently they entered the EU, it is too early to analyze questions of continuity and change in the citizenship policies of the Accession-12, particularly for the countries that were in the post-communist bloc, which until the past few years faced lower – or certainly very different – pressures for immigration. As a result of these distinct experiences, most of the countries in this group find themselves in a situation very different from that of the EU-15. Nonetheless, given the reality of the now considerably expanded EU, it would be negligent to ignore these countries, and it is important to explore their current citizenship policies in order to understand the full EU picture. Unlike most of the countries in the EU-15, where the topic of citizenship has generated tremendous interest in a vast (and growing) scholarly literature, the citizenship policies of the recent accession countries have received very little attention to date. Few sources are available, and most of them are either outdated or very narrow.1 Fortunately, however, a companion 1

For an exception that focuses on the fi fteen former republics of the Soviet Union – only three of which are now EU members – see Oxana Shevel, “The Politics of Citizenship Policy in New States,” Comparative Politics 41, no. 3: 273–291.

169

170

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

volume to the NATAC project was published in 2007, containing case studies of the ten accession countries that joined the EU in 2004 (as well as a chapter on Turkey), and a second edition, which includes updated versions of the chapters from the 2007 edition as well as new chapters on Romania, Bulgaria, and Croatia, was published in 2009.2 Although not initially part of NATAC, the chapters are all based on the same structure and format, thus facilitating the incorporation of these cases into my larger comparative framework. Given how little outside information is available on these cases (at least in English, French, or German, the main languages of the EU), these volumes constitute a tremendous resource for this fast-growing (and geographically widening) field. This chapter does not provide the same degree of detail on each of the individual cases as the previous chapters. Instead, it starts by applying the Citizenship Policy Index (CPI) to the Accession-12, showing how these countries compare with each other and with the EU-15. It then addresses the countries a bit more closely, grouping them into the four categories introduced by the NATAC volume: (1) restored states (Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania), (2) states with histories of shifting borders (Poland, Hungary, Romania, and Bulgaria), (3) post-partition states (Czech Republic, Slovakia, and Slovenia), and (4) Mediterranean post-imperial states (Cyprus and Malta). For each of the countries and groupings, it seeks to provide a sense of their distinct histories, traditions, and current practices. Overall, the chapter helps to highlight a larger point of this book, namely that there is considerable variation within the citizenship policies of the countries of the EU – a perspective that is certainly reinforced when the Accession-12 are added to the EU-15.

Applying the Citizenship Policy Index to the Accession-12 Before addressing the CPI scores, it is worth looking at the countries’ demographic situations with regard to exposure to immigrants. Table 8.1 shows that most of the Accession-12 have very low levels of exposure to foreigners. With the obvious exceptions of Estonia and Latvia (where over 20% of the ethnic Russian populations are still not citizens), as well as 2

Rainer Bauböck, Bernhard Perchinig, and Wiebke Sievers, eds., Citizenship Policies in the New Europe (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2007); Rainer Bauböck, Bernhard Perchinig, and Wiebke Sievers, eds., Citizenship Policies in the New Europe, expanded and updated edition (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2009).

The New European Frontier

171

Table 8.1. Demographics in the Accession-12

Country Bulgaria Cyprus Czech Republic Estonia Hungary Latvia Lithuania Malta Poland Romania Slovakia Slovenia

Population size

Number of foreigners in the population

Percentage of foreigners in the population

7,761,049 749,175 10,220,577 1,347,510 10,097,549 2,306,434 3,425,324 402,668 38,173,835 21,658,528 5,384,822 1,997,590

25,634 65,000 254,294 274,000 143,774 514,966 32,327 11,000 700,329 25,929 22,251 44,285

0.33 8.68 2.49 20.33 1.42 22.33 0.94 2.73 1.83 0.12 0.41 2.22

Source: Eurostat. Note: Most figures are from 2005 (several are from the most recent year available).

Cyprus (where the foreign population lives in an occupied area), many of the countries have a foreign presence that is well under 1 percent. And the Czech Republic and Slovenia still have remnant “foreign” populations that used to be part of the same multi-ethnic federation. Overall, the demographic profi le of the Accession-12 is quite different from those in the EU-15 presented in Tables 3.2 and 7.1. Turning to their citizenship policies, how do the Accession-12 compare with the EU-15 that have been the focus of the rest of the book? Constructing the CPI for these countries was much more difficult than for the EU-15, since many of the laws and practices are unclear or misleading. One reason for this diffi culty is that most of the accession countries have established “facilitated” naturalization procedures for “co-ethnic” populations of the same descent as the national group, which are quite distinct from – and considerably more generous than – the policies applied to immigrants of different ethnic backgrounds. Although this alone does not distinguish these countries from others in the EU-15 such as Italy, Spain, or Portugal, the citizenship policies in the Accession-12 are almost entirely focused on their diasporas, with very little attention to the question of immigrants. Also, policies for spousal naturalization and civic integration requirements are often not specifi ed in a way that

172

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

would allow for accurate comparisons,3 and they are therefore excluded from the CPI calculations for these countries. And many of the countries have openly and proudly established very tolerant dual citizenship policies, but on closer inspection it becomes apparent that these are usually meant to apply to their co-ethnic emigrants, rather than to immigrants from elsewhere.4 Moreover, the naturalization rates – which serve as an important “correction” to the “naturalization requirements” and “dual citizenship for immigrants” components of the CPI – are impossible to calculate precisely for these countries. Indeed, the overwhelming number of “naturalizations” reported in the statistics are actually of emigrants, rather than immigrants, and accurate figures for the latter simply do not exist.5 As a result, in order to apply the “naturalization correction,” I have simply reduced the scores of all twelve countries on those two factors by 0.75 points – a compromise that may be generous in a few cases, stingy in a few others, but on balance is probably fair, since most of these countries allow very few immigrants to naturalize at all.6 Overall, the coding for the CPI for the Accession-12 should be viewed as more of a rough estimate than a precise indicator. Table 8.2 presents the CPI scores for the twelve new members in 2008, based on the same general criteria from Chapter 1, albeit based on this more limited information. The table shows that there is considerably less variation in the Accession-12 than in the EU-15. None of them grants citizenship by birth; the residency requirements are generally fairly lenient (though the score is brought down by the low number of nonethnic naturalizations); and only four of the countries grant dual citizenship to naturalized immigrants (again, to a very limited number of people). The overall CPI scores 3

4

5 6

Many of the chapters in the NATAC volume do not refer to spousal naturalization or the presence or absence of civic integration requirements, and other sources are incomplete on these points as well. Also see Andre Liebich, “Plural Citizenship in Post-Communist States,” International Journal of Refugee Law 12, no. 1 (2000): 97–107. This point was made repeatedly in most of the chapters of the NATAC book. As explained in detail in Chapter 1, for the EU-15 the scores on the “naturalization requirements” and “dual citizenship for immigrants” components of the CPI were adjusted in order to more accurately reflect the relative ease or difficulty with which immigrants can acquire citizenship. These “corrections” were made by means of a sliding scale, so that countries with naturalization rates of under 0.25% were reduced by 1 point, those with rates between 0.25% and 0.75% dropped by 0.75 points, countries with rates between 0.75% and 1.5% were decreased by 0.5 points, those in the 1.5% to 2.5% range had their scores reduced by 0.25 points. As with the EU-15, for the Accession-12 cases where the “correction” creates a negative value, I have reset the score to zero.

The New European Frontier

173

Table 8.2. The Three Main Components of Citizenship Policies for the Accession-12 in 2008

Country

Jus soli (0 –2)

Naturalization requirements (0 –2)

Dual citizenship for immigrants (0 –2)

CPI score (0 – 6)

Restrictive

Lithuania Slovenia Cyprus Czech Rep. Estonia Latvia Poland Romania Hungary

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

0 0 0.11 0.68 0.68 0.68 0.68 0.68 0

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 1.25

0 0 0.11 0.68 0.68 0.68 0.68 0.68 1.25

Medium

Bulgaria Malta Slovakia

0 0 0

0.68 0.68 0.68

1.25 1.25 1.25

1.93 1.93 1.93

are quite low: nine of the Accession-12 are in the “restrictive” category (as opposed to five of the EU-15); the other three are on the low end of the “medium” grouping (compared with two in that category for the EU-15); and not a single country can be classified as having “liberal” citizenship policies (whereas the EU-15 has eight). In short, when compared with the index scores for the EU-15, the new members have consistently and significantly more restrictive citizenship policies. Looking more closely at the variation between the accession countries themselves, we see few discernible patterns, largely because they are all so closely grouped together. Among the post-communist countries, Bulgaria and Slovakia are on the higher end, while Lithuania and Slovenia have the lowest scores. Most of the others are clustered together with scores of 0.68, lower than all of the EU-15 except for Austria and Denmark. The two countries that are not post-communist, Cyprus and Malta, are not noticeably distinct from the other countries (the former is on the low end, the latter is slightly higher). In short, the most striking fi nding is the relative proximity of these cases to one another, as they all have scores that fall well below the midpoint on the 0–6 scale of the CPI. The specific results shown in Table 8.2 match up quite closely with the general characterizations of the NATAC volume on the accession countries.

174

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

Indeed, the editors of Citizenship Policies in the New Europe summarize the main distinctions nicely in their preface: The concepts of nationality and citizenship in the fourteen countries under discussion in this volume generally differ quite strongly from those prevalent in Western Europe. By and large, citizenship in these countries is still closely linked to an ethnic interpretation of nationality, transmission to subsequent generations is exclusively based on descent, there is greater hostility towards multiple nationality, and greater emphasis is laid on citizenship links with ethnic kin-minorities in neighboring countries and expatriates.7

Although this broad overview misses some important distinctions, it accurately characterizes the key differences between the EU-15 and the Accession-12 in terms of their historical and contemporary citizenship policies. More specifically, Andre Liebich has focused on the citizenship policies of the post-communist EU member-states. Liebich states, “The contrast with the situation of the ‘old’ fifteen EU Member States could not be more striking.”8 His analysis stresses a combination of old and new factors that explain the restrictive policies within the post-communist region. He argues that traditional conceptions of membership and belonging are still viewed in ethnic terms, claiming that “since 1918 the prevailing conceptions of identity in all the countries in question have led them to look toward ethnic criteria in defi ning those entitled to citizenship.”9 But this has also been reinforced in the post-communist period, which has brought independence to much of the region.10 As a result, “The fragility of statehood in East Central Europe drives all these countries in the direction of a state-reinforcing overcompensation.”11 In other words, leaders of these new states sought to assert their authority by creating (overly) tough measures on citizenship. And while international organizations did have some influence over these countries when they were candidates for EU accession, it now appears very unlikely that major changes are imminent . Having provided a rough measure of the citizenship policies of the Accession-12 using the same general “baseline” as for the EU-15, we can 7

8

9 10

11

Rainer Bauböck, Bernhard Perchinig, and Wiebke Sievers, “Preface,” in Bauböck et al., eds., Citizenship Policies in the New Europe, expanded and updated ed., p. 17. Andre Liebich, “Introduction: Altneuländer or the Vicissitudes of Citizenship in the New EU States,” in ibid., p. 22. Ibid., pp. 27–28. In the cases of already existing nation-states, independence can refer to the newfound freedom from Soviet control. And of course for others it actually means the (re-)creation of a new state. Liebich, “Introduction,” p. 22.

The New European Frontier

175

now address the particular histories, practices, and politics of citizenship in this diverse set of countries .

Restored States (Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania) No three states within the EU-27 share so much in common as Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania. Not only are they geographically proximate and similarly small in size, but they all shared a history in the twentieth century, having been absorbed by the Soviet Union in 1940 before achieving independence in 1991. In terms of their citizenship policies, although there was some variation in form and degree, all followed a strategy of “restoration” of their earlier ethnic defi nition of national membership, in large part as a strategy for excluding ethnic Russians from their new polities.12 Citizenship has been on the forefront of the political agenda in the Baltic states. All three countries have not only adopted new citizenship laws since independence, but they have all revised and amended their new laws multiple times to respond to various domestic and international pressures. They all developed “exclusionary policies” that were quite popular because of the public resentment and anger over the Soviet annexation and frustration with the large number of “ethnic Russian” settlers who had relocated to the Baltic states during Soviet times.13 Despite these underlying commonalities, however, one should distinguish between the situation in Lithuania and that of Estonia and Latvia, in two key respects. First, Lithuania had a lower percentage of ethnic Russians within its population, totaling roughly 20 percent in 1992, thus constituting a less precarious balance between the two main population groups.14 Second, Lithuania’s unique 1989 citizenship law inadvertently created a window from 1989 to 1991 during which a considerable number of ethnic Russians could and did receive Lithuanian citizenship. Many fewer ethnic Russians were therefore excluded from political membership in the new Lithuania. As a result of these two key distinctions, Kruˉma argues that “Lithuania’s general approach to the regulation of nationality, especially in the early 1990s, can be considered as more liberal in comparison to the 12

13

14

Jeff Chin and Lise A. Truex, “The Question of Citizenship in the Baltics,” Journal of Democracy 7, no. 1 (1996): 133–147. Priit Järve, “Estonian Citizenship: Between Ethnic Preferences and Democratic Obligations,” in Bauböck et al., eds., Citizenship Policies in the New Europe, expanded and updated ed., p. 47. Kristˉıne Kruˉma, “Lithuanian Nationality: Trump Card to Independence and Its Current Challenges,” in ibid., p. 114.

176

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

other Baltic states .”15 But this should be viewed as more of a difference in degree than a difference in kind, as overall the three histories, strategies, and policies were still quite similar to one another.16 In Estonia and Latvia, the situation for ethnic Russians has been considerably more precarious and contentious. As Priit Järve explains in the case of Estonia, citizenship policy became “an instrument for the attainment of national homogeneity and for the political containment of Soviet era settlers .”17 In both countries, titular nationals – those who were or would have been citizens before Soviet occupation – automatically acquired citizenship, whereas the others were subjected to intentionally difficult and complicated naturalization procedures. As a result of these policies, the number of official citizens declined dramatically in both countries, virtually overnight. In Estonia, there were over 1,144,000 eligible voters in the March 1991 referendum on independence, but only 689,000 who could vote in the 1992 referendum on the new Estonian Constitution. In other words, 40 percent of the population had been disenfranchised (and many rendered stateless) within a year. In Latvia, the number of “noncitizens” was about 735,000 in 1995, corresponding to over 32 percent of the population.18 Naturalization procedures in the three Baltic countries have been quite difficult, and they involve language and civic integration tests that discouraged ethnic Russians from applying.19 Since many would not apply for (or could not receive) citizenship, larger numbers of “stateless” people had legitimate human rights claims. Partial measures such as creating a mid-level status of “permanent resident noncitizens” were not deemed satisfactory by outside observers.20 The fact that most of the people who were subject to these stringent criteria had actually lived there for decades (in Soviet times) created a tense political situation, also involving Russia and the European Union. And as the Baltic states sought to join the EU, they were susceptible 15 16

17

18

19

20

Ibid., p. 103. On this point, see also Chin and Truex, “The Question of Citizenship in the Baltics,” p. 133. Ibid., p. 44. Järve adds, “The Estonian political elite deemed that the initial non-inclusion of Soviet era settlers into the citizenry served the interests of the survival of the Estonian ethnic nation and its culture” (p. 55). Kristˉıne Kruˉma, “Checks and Balances in Latvian Nationality Policies: National Agendas and International Frameworks,” in Bauböck et al., eds., Citizenship Policies in the New Europe, expanded and updated ed., p. 71. See Järve, “Estonian Citizenship,” p. 59; Kruˉma, “Checks and Balances,” p. 76; Kruˉma, “Lithuanian Nationality,” p. 105. Kruˉma, “Checks and Balances,” pp. 72–73.

The New European Frontier

177

to pressure by various international organizations and nongovernmental organizations (NGOs) “to speed up naturalisation to reduce the proportion of non-citizens in the population.”21 But, as Järve writes, “In the wake of Estonia’s admission to the EU, inputs from international actors have ceased to inform the domestic debate on nationality issues .”22 In other words, since the Baltic countries joined the EU in 2004, the international leverage has largely disappeared.23 Overall, little change can be expected in the Baltic states. In Estonia, “the mainstream political parties have regularly declared prior to national elections that, regardless of the election results, the Citizenship Act and the corresponding policies will not be changed.”24 The Latvian situation is very similar: “Taking into account that nationality is a politically sensitive topic in Latvia it is doubtful that radical changes will occur in the near future.”25 While the extent of dual citizenship for émigrés continues to be hotly debated, little change is envisioned in citizenship policy with regard to immigrants.26 In other words, if citizenship reform had truly been a priority of the EU, it should be viewed as a missed opportunity. Although less acute, the problem of noncitizen permanent residents still exists and shows no sign of going away. But because of the clear politicization of this issue in all three countries, there are few signs of much Baltic citizenship liberalization in the future.

States with Histories of Shifting Borders (Poland, Hungary, Romania, and Bulgaria) Although they have far less coherence as a group than the Baltic states, four countries spanning much of the territory of the post-communist accession region share similar histories of uncertain and changing borders. Poland, Hungary, Romania, and Bulgaria have all struggled – albeit to different degrees and in different ways – to deal with the mismatch between the areas where the population constituting the “nation” lives and the territorial boundaries of the state. As a result of their halting and indirect paths to building a nation-state and their reassertive national independence after four decades of subservience to the Soviet bloc, all four of these countries 21 22 23

24 25 26

Järve, “Estonian Citizenship,” p. 52. See also Kruˉma, “Checks and Balances,” p. 73. Järve, “Estonian Citizenship,” p. 55. Also see Wade Jacoby, The Enlargement of the European Union and NATO: Ordering from the Menu in Central Europe (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2006). Järve, “Estonian Citizenship,” p. 55. Kruˉma, “Checks and Balances,” p. 88. Kruˉma, “Lithuanian Nationality,” pp. 112–114.

178

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

have chosen to emphasize an “ethnic” defi nition of national citizenship. The large majority of naturalizations in this set of countries has been granted to people of the same descent, and in general the citizenship policies of these countries focus primarily on the diaspora living outside the national borders, as opposed to the small but increasing number of immigrants within them. The territorial boundaries of Poland underwent “radical reconfigurations” in the twentieth century, as the entire country essentially shifted westward after World War II, when Poland lost its “Eastern territories” to the Soviet Union while acquiring the “regained territories” after the defeat of Nazi Germany.27 Throughout these changes, the continuous unifying principle of Polish citizenship law has been jus sanguinis, as the debate has focused on whether and how people of Polish descent could acquire, lose, or reclaim their Polish citizenship, and whether dual citizenship for emigrants should be accepted. In contrast, “rules concerning foreigners’ naturalisation in Poland have been of secondary importance in the debate and legislation on Polish nationality, despite considerable growth in immigration to Poland since the early 1990s .”28 As a result, Poland maintains a highly restrictive citizenship policy, without jus soli, with residency requirements that are reasonable (five years) but offset by extremely low numbers of actual naturalizations,29 and without allowing naturalizing immigrants to maintain their prior citizenship. Although Poland’s accession to the EU in 2004 and the continued increase in immigration has created a “growth of interest” in questions of citizenship, it is unlikely that liberalization will ensue in the foreseeable future .30 The situation in Hungary has been much more politicized and controversial, especially in the past decade. Similar to the case of Poland and the other states with histories of shifting borders, Hungary has a deeply rooted tradition of jus sanguinis and a strong focus on the citizenship rights of co-ethnics rather than immigrants.31 This can be understood given that the Armistice Agreement of 1945 created new borders – which still exist

27

28 29

30 31

Agata Górny, “Same Letter, New Spirit: Nationality Regulations and Their Implementation in Poland,” in Bauböck et al., eds., Citizenship Policies in the New Europe, expanded and updated ed., pp. 124–125. Ibid., p. 124. These low rates are partly a result of the tremendous discretion granted to state offi cials during the naturalization process. See ibid., p. 141. Ibid., pp. 142–143. Mária M. Kovács and Judit Tóth, “Hungary: Kin-State Responsibility and Ethnic Citizenship,” in ibid., pp. 152–153.

The New European Frontier

179

to this day, and are unlikely ever to change – whereby “millions of former Hungarian citizens who ended up under the jurisdiction of neighbouring states lost their Hungarian nationality.”32 When the Hungarian state became truly independent and more assertive after 1989, the focus shifted squarely to these “ethnic Hungarians” who had spent decades outside Hungary’s borders. This issue struck a chord with the many Hungarians who view the exclusion of millions of ethnic Hungarians from the modern borders of Hungary as an injustice. After “stormy political debates,” in 2001 the Hungarian government passed the “Act on Benefits for Ethnic Hungarians Living in Neighbouring States of Hungary,” known more colloquially as the “Status Law.” The Status Law made available a “certificate” of quasicitizenship – providing employment and health benefits, among other advantages – to ethnic Hungarians in six neighboring countries (Slovakia, Romania, Ukraine, Slovenia, Serbia-Montenegro, and Croatia), only half of which are current EU members.33 The Status Law triggered tremendous opposition from the affected states (which viewed it as an attack on their sovereignty), as well as the European Union and the larger international community, and it was modified somewhat in 2003.34 A controversial referendum in 2004 proposed to go even further, by granting full citizenship to ethnic Hungarians living in other countries, but even though it won a slight majority, the voter turnout was only 37 percent, thus invalidating the outcome.35 Although perhaps dormant for now, the issue of citizenship rights for ethnic Hungarians living in neighboring countries has hardly gone away, even though many of those countries are now fellow EU member-states. On the contrary, “given the enormous disappointment of trans-border Hungarians with the result, the issues raised during the [referendum] campaign will remain on the agenda of Hungarian politics for quite some time to come.”36 In terms of the citizenship rights of immigrants, Hungary is one 32 33

34 35 36

Ibid., p. 152. Ibid., p. 152. For other accounts of the Hungarian Status Law, see Stephen Deets and Sherrill Stroschein, “Dilemmas of Autonomy and Liberal Pluralism: Examples Involving Hungarians in Central Europe,” Nations and Nationalism 11, no. 2 (2005): 285–305; Michael Stewart, “The Hungarian Status Law: A New European Form of Transnational Politics?” Diaspora 12, no. 1 (2003): 67–102; Cristina Chiva, “Ethnic Minority Rights in Central and Eastern Europe: The Case of the Hungarian ‘Status Law,’” Government & Opposition 41, no. 3 (2006): 401–421; Osamu Ieda, ed., Beyond Sovereignty: From Status Law to Transnational Citizenship? (Sapporo: Slavic Research Center, Hokkaido University, 2006). Kovács and Tóth, “Hungary,” p. 160. Ibid., pp. 158–160. Ibid., p. 161.

180

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

of the few accession countries to allow for immigrant dual citizenship – by not requiring the renunciation of one’s previous citizenship – but its naturalization policies are rather strict, requiring eight years of residence along with other conditions including passing a difficult Hungarian language test.37 And the discussions of dual citizenship have been “fundamentally different from those … of Western Europe,” since the goal in Hungary is a “relinking” of citizenship and ethnicity, rather than decoupling them from one another.38 In short, the complex situation regarding citizenship policy in Hungary can be characterized by its near-exclusive focus on the historical aftermath of its larger ethnic population living outside the state’s territorial borders, with very little attention to immigration and the integration of immigrants . Just like its neighbor to the north, Romania has coped with “multiple historical legacies” that have influenced its recent approach to citizenship. And like the Baltic States, it has followed a policy of “restitution” that restored earlier, pre-communist, practices. In the Romanian case, the explicit goal has been “the restitution of nationality to former de-naturalised citizens.”39 The history of Romanian citizenship has gone through multiple changes, but at its core was an ethnic conception of identity and belonging, even though such minorities as Hungarians, Germans, Jews, and Russians constituted 28 percent of the total population of the “Greater Romania” in the 1920s. The laws themselves shifted in several directions during the years of Romania’s alliance with Nazi Germany, and then of course during the communist period. The new Law on Romanian Citizenship passed in 1991 – and later amended in 1999, 2002, and 2003 – provided a synthesis of earlier laws from 1939 and 1971. The main feature of the new policy was the desire “to resume ties with the Romanian Diaspora and kin-minorities abroad.”40 This resulted in facilitated naturalization procedures for the “repatriation” of exiles and the “re-acquisition of nationality” of people living in other countries who had earlier given up their Romanian citizenship – whether or not they were ethnically Romanian. This legislation was both “highly expansive” and “legally ambiguous,” since it sought to offer citizenship to people (and their

37

38

39

40

Ibid., p. 156. Note that these requirements do not apply to ethnic Hungarians who can naturalize according to preferential criteria. Ibid., p. 161. Also see Mária M. Kovács, “The Politics of Dual Citizenship in Hungary,” Citizenship Studies 10, no. 4 (2006): 431–451. Constantin Iordachi, “Politics of Citizenship in Post-Communist Romania: Legal Regimes, Restitution of Nationality and Multiple Memberships,” in Bauböck et al., eds., Citizenship Policies in the New Europe, expanded and updated ed., p. 178. Ibid., p. 188.

The New European Frontier

181

younger descendants) who had been citizens of other countries for over half a century. As in Hungary, much of the debate focused on the question of dual citizenship, and the 1991 law did allow newly (re-)naturalized ethnic Romanians to keep their other citizenship. This was ironic and contradictory, as Romania vehemently opposed Hungary’s effort to grant dual citizenship to ethnic Hungarians who were citizens of Romania, while at the same time seeking to apply the very same policy to ethnic Romanians who were Moldovan citizens . Indeed, over the course of the 1990s and early 2000s, until it decreased as a result of fraying diplomatic relations and EU pressure, Romania’s policy essentially created a new category, “nonresident dual citizens,” for the ethnic Romanian citizens of Ukraine and especially Moldova.41 And while the naturalization of these groups has slowed, the pressure and larger issue still remains very much on the political agenda. In terms of immigrants, however, it should be emphasized that unlike Hungary, Romania has not tolerated dual citizenship for naturalizing immigrants who are not of Romanian origin.42 And overall, as a legacy of this complex demographic and territorial history of shifting borders, the citizenship policy remains almost exclusively focused on emigrants, while being quite restrictive for immigrants . Like the other countries in this grouping, Bulgaria has a complex and turbulent national history, a tenuous co-existence with multiple and substantial minority populations, and a strong focus on an extra-territorial diaspora. Unlike the other countries in this grouping, however, Bulgaria actually has an institutional precedent of jus soli, when the 1879 Constitution provided citizenship by birth to all, “regardless of their ethnic origin and religion.”43 And the jus sanguinis principle was relatively weak in that time period, as the “founding fathers of modern Bulgaria” wanted the ethnic Bulgarian population to stay put, thus perhaps enabling future territorial expansion.44 But this emphasis changed over the ensuing century, and by the time of the 1940 Fourth Law on Bulgarian Nationality, a newly invigorated conception of “Bulgarian origin” began to reshape the tradition of Bulgarian citizenship, a development that was enhanced by the loose cooperation with Nazi

41 42

43

44

Ibid., p. 190. Ibid., pp. 188–190. This of course explains why Romania receives a score of 0 on the “dual citizenship for immigrants” factor on the CPI. Daniel Smilov and Elena Jileva, “The Politics of Bulgarian Citizenship: National Identity, Democracy, and Mundane Uses,” in ibid., p. 213. Ibid., p. 215.

182

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

Germany.45 Although postwar Bulgaria’s communist leaders did create a less ethnic defi nition of citizenship in 1948, “they still preserved some of the most discriminative practices embedded in the 1940 Law,” which contributed to the partial expulsion and forceful assimilation of Bulgarian Turks (many of whom, for example, changed their last names to have Bulgarian endings).46 Post-communist Bulgaria’s citizenship policy became institutionalized in the 1991 Constitution, and it was modified slightly by the 1998 Law on Citizenship. The core of the new practice has been the distinction between “a person of Bulgarian origin” and “a Bulgarian citizen.” The former applies to ethnic Bulgarians – a concept that is closely connected to the Bulgarian Orthodox Church – who may or may not also be residents and citizens of the country, while the latter is a legal and civic status, but could also apply to non-ethnic Bulgarians, who may be Turks, Armenians, or of other ethnic backgrounds.47 Following this distinction – and similar to the practices of Poland, Hungary, and Romania – Bulgarian citizenship policy has created a facilitated naturalization procedure for people of “Bulgarian origin,” whereas the “general regime for obtaining citizenship by naturalisation is quite restrictive.”48 “The great majority of those who have acquired Bulgarian citizenship through naturalisation in the last few years have done so using the preferential regime.”49 Nonetheless, like Hungary, Bulgaria is one of the few accession countries to allow for dual citizenship for immigrants – though this is offset by the low levels of actual naturalization by nonethnic Bulgarian immigrants.50 On the whole, however, Bulgaria’s citizenship policy is quite restrictive with regard to immigrants, and it shows little sign of changing in the foreseeable future. In terms of the politics of citizenship, all four countries with “shifting borders” have seen this issue become highly politicized, but almost exclusively on the question of emigrants. Although typically the labels “left” and “right” do not mean as much in the post-communist context, parties and movements on the right have been most active in supporting a policy 45 46 47 48 49 50

Ibid., p. 219. Ibid., pp. 219–220. Ibid., p. 223. Ibid., pp. 222–225 (quotation from p. 224). Ibid., p. 223. Ibid., pp. 221–222. See also Andre Liebich, “Plural Citizenship in Post-Communist States.” As an example of the low number of naturalizations, in 2003 there were 14,306 applications for Bulgarian citizenship, 4,324 of which were granted. Of these, only 230 were to people of “non-Bulgarian descent.” See the official statistics of the Bulgarian President’s Office at http://www.president.bg/en/v_iziavi.php (accessed May 24, 2009).

The New European Frontier

183

of facilitated naturalization for emigrants of the same ethnic origin.51 And in some cases far right populist movements have claimed the issue as their own, forcing mainstream left-of-center parties to move to the right as well.52 Furthermore, as with the Baltic states, now that these countries have already joined the EU, the international leverage from the “West” is virtually impotent to effect changes that could result in a liberalization of these practices with regard to immigrants. As the levels of immigration continue to rise over the coming decades – as will probably occur if the area becomes increasingly prosperous – it remains to be seen how these countries will react. In the foreseeable future, however, the near-obsessive focus on emigrants is unlikely to change.

Post-Partition States (Czech Republic, Slovakia, and Slovenia) The next set of countries emerged from the collapse of the Soviet system and the dissolution of the multi-ethnic states of Czechoslovakia and Yugoslavia, and they have existed as independent states for less than two decades. The Czech Republic and Slovakia obviously have a shared past – from the formation of Czechoslovakia in 1918 to their “velvet divorce” in January 1993 – and their citizenship traditions and current policies are closely intertwined. Slovenia is the fi rst state from the former Yugoslavia to join the European Union, as it managed not only to avoid most of the violent conflict in that area, but also to become a relatively peaceful and prosperous country within a short period of time. All three countries share a similar conception of citizenship that focuses on descent as the primary category of national belonging . The state formerly known as Czechoslovakia was created after World War I out of the aftermath of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. While it initially granted citizenship based on “right of domicile in municipalities that became part of the Czechoslovak territory,” the principle of jus sanguinis – with its precedent in the Austrian Civil Code of 1811 – quickly came to the fore.53 The aftermath of World War II further reinforced this ethnic 51

52 53

Górny, “Same Letter, New Spirit,” p. 136; Kovács and Tóth, “Hungary,” p. 160; Smilov and Jileva, “The Politics of Bulgarian Citizenship,” pp. 226–227. See, e.g., Smilov and Jileva, “The Politics of Bulgarian Citizenship,” p. 14. See Andrea Baršová, “Czech Citizenship Legislation between Past and Future,” in Bauböck et al., eds., Citizenship Policies in the New Europe, expanded and updated ed., p. 249; and Dagmar Kusá, “The Slovak Question and the Slovak Answer: Citizenship during the Quest for National Self-Determination and After,” in ibid., p. 276.

184

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

defi nition of citizenship, as people of German or Hungarian origin were denied citizenship in the newly reconstituted Czechoslovakia.54 After the communist takeover in 1948, new citizenship legislation preserved the core feature of jus sanguinis.55 An important development – one that would have major consequences several decades later – occurred in 1968, when a Slovak national movement emerged alongside the liberalization of the Prague Spring. Unlike the Prague Spring, which was repressed by Soviet tanks in August of that year, the Slovak movement was successful in transforming a unitary Czechoslovak state into “a federal state, composed of the Czech and the Slovak Republics .”56 This distinction was largely symbolic at the time, as “republic-level citizenship had no practical consequences whatever,” and in general “the question of citizenship had no significance.”57 But the collapse of communism in Czechoslovakia in November 1989 set in motion a series of events that probably would not have occurred without the initially inconsequential federal reforms of 1968. Before the “velvet divorce” took place, the main issue related to citizenship was the “restitution” of citizenship to emigrants who had lost it during the communist era.58 But by 1992, it became clear that political elites on both sides – without the support of their respective populations on either side59 – were pressing ahead with dissolution and independence. In 1993, when the Czech Republic and Slovakia became independent countries, the “primary aim … was to indentify nationals of the new state and to prevent dual (Czech and Slovak) citizenship.”60 This involved “facilitation naturalisation” for both sides – with much easier requirements – which continues to this day.61 In both countries, however, nonfacilitated naturalization necessitates five years of permanent resident status.62 As for dual citizenship, it was strenuously opposed throughout the communist era and in the fi rst years following the breakup,63 but in recent decades the practice has become increasingly tolerated in both countries, particularly for co-ethnics who became citizens elsewhere,

54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63

Baršová, “Czech Citizenship Legislation,” p. 250; Kusá, “The Slovak Question,” p. 278. Baršová, “Czech Citizenship Legislation,” p. 250. Ibid., pp. 250–251. Ibid., p. 251. Ibid. See ibid., p. 251; Kusá, “The Slovak Question,” p. 282. Baršová, “Czech Citizenship Legislation,” p. 252. Ibid., p. 253; Kusá, “The Slovak Question,” p. 284. Baršová, “Czech Citizenship Legislation,” p. 255. Ibid., p. 252.

The New European Frontier

185

as emigrants.64 But only Slovakia allows nonfacilitated naturalized immigrants to maintain their prior citizenship as well, whereas the Czech Republic still maintains its renunciation requirement .65 Both countries have also had to address the question of citizenship for their considerable Roma minorities, many of whom have stumbled on the naturalization requirements, particularly the necessity of having a “clean criminal record.”66 Domestic and international human rights groups and the EU itself have pushed the countries to accommodate their Roma (and other) minorities, leading to “piecemeal adjustments.”67 In Slovakia, the debate about the Hungarian Status Law and the referendum in Hungary about dual citizenship have had particular resonance, raising the question of whether Slovak citizens who are ethnic Hungarians could lose their Slovak citizenship by becoming Hungarian citizens.68 And while in general the issue of citizenship has not been particularly politicized in either the Czech Republic or Slovakia, this debate has “contributed to support for Slovak nationalist and populist platforms, which has grown over the past two years .”69 Overall, while future liberalization is certainly possible in either or both of these two countries,70 a revival of populism – particularly as non-co-ethnic immigration continues to increase in the coming decades – could have restrictive consequences as well. In contrast to Czechoslovakia, the breakup of Yugoslavia was anything but “velvety.” Slovenia was able to avoid the horrors of the wars that broke out in the region, thanks to its relative prosperity, small and homogeneous population, and geographical position in the northwest corner of Yugoslavia, closest to Europe. And while Croatia may take part in the next wave of EU accession, and perhaps Serbia thereafter, Slovenia was the one former Yugoslav Republic that was seen as a viable candidate from very

64 65 66

67 68 69 70

Ibid., p. 253; Kusá, “The Slovak Question,” pp. 287–288. Baršová, “Czech Citizenship Legislation,” pp. 255–256. Ibid., p. 253; Kusá, “The Slovak Question,” p. 288. See also Jane Perlez, “Czechs Use Laws to Exclude Gypsies from Gaining Citizenship and Voting,” New York Times, December 27, 1995, p. A8. Baršová, “Czech Citizenship Legislation,” p. 255. Kusá, “The Slovak Question,” pp. 289–294. Ibid., p. 293. In the Czech Republic, a “consultation paper” circulated by the Ministry of the Interior proposed liberalization of naturalization procedures for second- and third-generation immigrants, as well as the introduction of dual citizenship for immigrants, but this elicited strong reactions from both sides. See Baršová, “Czech Citizenship Legislation,” pp. 258–261.

186

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

early on, and indeed it is often viewed as a “successful” case of both postcommunist transformation and EU expansion.71 In terms of citizenship policy, Slovenia inherited a tradition of jus sanguinis that had been established by the 1928 Yugoslav Citizenship Act, which was further reinforced in the postwar period.72 As a federal state, Yugoslavia functioned with a “mixed system,” with citizenship in both the larger federation and the individual republics. The former was a larger multi-ethnic identification as a “Yugoslav” – a geographical label that literally means “south Slav” – while the latter distinguished between the individual ethnicities themselves.73 The federal citizenship was the most important, and citizenship in republics was relatively loosely controlled, as citizens of other republics could change to Slovenian citizenship based on permanent residence. Overall, the rights of citizenship in an individual republic were largely irrelevant, since with the exception of voting rights in republic-only elections, all Yugoslav citizens had the same rights regardless of residence.74 In other words, although an ethnic category, in practice the term “Slovenian” had civic connotations as well. This situation changed dramatically with the collapse of the Yugoslav federation. Unlike the Baltic states, Slovenia had never been an independent state, and therefore “restitution” of earlier laws was not an option. Instead, the new state followed a policy of “continuity of previous citizenship upon state succession,” meaning that those who were previously citizens of the Yugoslav republic of Slovenia automatically became citizens of the country of Slovenia.75 And Slovenia allowed citizens of other Yugoslav republics who resided in Slovenia to choose Slovenian citizenship.76 This definition of the nation was therefore quite civic, but over time it has shifted in an ethnic direction.77 Perhaps as an example of “state-reinforcing overcompensation,”78 Slovenia has subsequently encouraged ethnic Slovenians to acquire citizenship by providing “facilitated 71

72

73 74 75 76 77

78

See, e.g., Irena Brinar and Marjan Svetlicic, “Enlargement of the European Union: The Case of Slovenia,” Journal of European Public Policy 6, no. 5 (1999): 802–821; and Mojmir Mrak, Matija Rojec, and Carlos Silva-Jauregui, eds., Slovenia: From Yugoslavia to the European Union (Washington, D.C.: World Bank Publications, 2004). Felicita Medved, “From Civic to Ethnic Community? The Evolution of Slovenian Citizenship,” in Bauböck et al., eds., Citizenship Policies in the New Europe, expanded and updated ed., pp. 306–307. Ibid., p. 308. Ibid. Ibid., p. 311. Ibid. See Jelka Zorn, “Ethnic Citizenship in the Slovenian State,” Citizenship Studies 9, no. 2 (2005): 135–152. Liebich, “Introduction,” p. 22.

The New European Frontier

187

naturalisation” alongside tolerance of dual citizenship, while making the conditions for “regular naturalisation” for non-ethnic immigrants quite strict – with a ten-year residency requirement – and requiring renunciation from their prior citizenship.79 Moreover, the controversial Slovenians Abroad Act, passed in 2006, has sought to promote ties and cooperation with the Slovenian diaspora, and has effectively created a category of “a Slovene without Slovenian citizenship,” thereby serving a similar function to the Hungarian Status Law .80 Unlike the other post-partition states under analysis, the politics of citizenship in Slovenia has followed the more familiar West European pattern identified in earlier chapters of this book. Parties on the center-right have favored more restrictive measures – including the prevention of dual citizenship for immigrants and the proposal of a much-debated loyalty oath that was eventually shelved – while those on the center-left have favored more inclusive policies.81 On the whole, however, the country has shifted from a “territorial” defi nition of citizenship to one where “ethnic criteria play a major role in naturalisation,” with little likelihood of significant change in the foreseeable future.82

Mediterranean Post-Imperial States (Cyprus and Malta) The fi nal two countries among the Accession-12 have vastly different historical experiences and citizenship traditions from the ten post-communist states. Cyprus and Malta were both part of the British Empire until their independence in the early 1960s, and their citizenship policies initially followed British principles before moving to more ethnically based defi nitions of national membership. As with the post-communist countries, the relatively recent statehood of these two small island countries – with populations of about 800,000 in Cyprus and 400,000 in Malta – has probably contributed to a similar form of “state-reinforcing overcompensation.”83 The case of Cyprus is complicated by the de facto partition of the country into Greek Cypriots and Turkish Cypriots, with a sharp delineation between the two groups. And citizenship policy in Malta has been dominated by the 79 80 81

82 83

Medved, “From Civic to Ethnic Community?” pp. 313–315. Ibid., pp. 321–322. Ibid., pp. 319, 322–323. Also see Ales Gaube, “Slovenia Halts Controversial Referenda,” Transitions Online, March 8, 2004. Medved, “From Civic to Ethnic Community?” pp. 326–328. Liebich, “Introduction,” p. 22.

188

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

advocates of emigrants and a concern with the rights of the wider Maltese diaspora. In both cases the issue of citizenship has been highly politicized, but in a way that generally defies left-right politics and reinforces an exclusive defi nition of citizenship. Cyprus has a long and complicated history that spans Orthodox Christianity and Islam, as it was controlled at different times by both Ottoman and British Empires, and still remains “ethno-communally divided” between Greeks and Turks.84 In terms of citizenship, upon independence in 1960 the political system was “bi-communal,” with the Greek Cypriots (constituting 78% of the population) and Turkish Cypriots (18%) sharing power in a consociational system with several other much smaller groups.85 But in 1963, following a Greek Cypriot attempt to remove the consociational rights of the Turkish Cypriots, the Turkish Cypriot leadership withdrew from the national administration. In 1974, after a military coup by the Greek junta on July 15 and the invasion by the Turkish army five days later, the constitutional order was replaced by a new regime in the north, which ever since has controlled 34 percent of the national territory, thus leaving the Greek Cypriots in control of the Republic of Cyprus.86 And the aftermath of the turmoil of 1974 was heightened tensions between the two groups that still remain.87 As a result, “we cannot therefore speak of a ‘nationality policy’ as such, above and beyond the politics of the Cyprus confl ict and the separate national aspirations of Greek and Turkish Cypriots.”88 The principles behind citizenship in Cyprus are fi rmly based on jus sanguinis, as “descent is the primary criterion for acquisition of citizenship.”89 The complicating factor is that – at least in theory – Turkish Cypriots are entitled to citizenship in Cyprus, even though until April 2003 “the vast majority” of them were not allowed to leave Northern Cyprus or to come into much contact with Greek Cypriots.90 Since 2003, however, the checkpoints have been opened, and both Turkish and Greek Cypriots are able 84

85 86 87

88 89 90

Nicos Trimikliniotis, “Nationality and Citizenship in Cyprus since 1945: Communal Citizenship, Gendered Nationality and the Adventures of a Post-Colonial Subject in a Divided Country,” in Bauböck et al., eds., Citizenship Policies in the New Europe, expanded and updated ed., pp. 389–390. Ibid., p. 391. Ibid., pp. 391–392. See Nadav Morag, “Cyprus and the Clash of Greek and Turkish Nationalisms,” Nationalism and Ethnic Politics 10, no. 4 (2004): 595–624. Trimikliniotis, “Nationality and Citizenship in Cyprus,” p. 392. Ibid., p. 398. Ibid., pp. 392–393.

The New European Frontier

189

to visit the other side, albeit with considerable restrictions.91 This seems to be leading to an increase in the acquisition of citizenship in the Republic of Cyprus by Turkish Cypriots, thus perhaps indicating an important and ongoing change in policy.92 And a major political issue has been whether the children of Turkish nationals who migrated to the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus (which is recognized only by Turkey) are entitled to citizenship in Cyprus .93 Although not fully or clearly resolved, this question has been highly politicized, leading to a rebuke by the European Commission against Racism and Intolerance, which bemoaned the “intolerant and xenophobic attitudes in public debate.”94 At first glance the naturalization procedures in Cyprus appear to be fairly transparent, as it includes a seven-year residence requirement and few other obligations. But in reality the policy is very strict, as immigrants cannot extend their worker permits beyond four years. Moreover, immigration officers – working for the Council of Ministers and the Migration Department of the Ministry of the Interior – have wide-ranging discretion, adopt a tough line, and “are very reluctant to grant citizenship to migrants,” even to spouses.95 Trimikliniotis argues that this “restrictive regime” is a result of “a mixture of the colonial legacy and the keenness of authorities to hold on to their ‘sovereignty’ on the area of entry, sojourn, residence, and citizenship, particularly as the protracted Cyprus conflict is often invoked as a pretext.”96 The result is a citizenship policy that remains in a “state of limbo,” with no resolution in sight until perhaps the “Cyprus problem” itself goes away. The situation in Malta is certainly far less contentious and divisive, but still quite restrictive overall. Malta became independent from Britain in 1964, and for the next twenty-five years it maintained a citizenship policy that included jus soli, whereby “persons born on or after the date of independence acquired Maltese citizenship by mere birth in Malta irrespective of whether or not any of their parents were born in Malta.”97 Alongside this liberal application of citizenship by birth, however, was a strict opposition to dual citizenship, which was certainly the international norm in that time period.98 91

Ibid., p. 392. Nicos Trimikliniotis, personal communication, June 2009. 93 Ibid., pp. 398–399. 94 European Commission against Racism and Intolerance, “Third Report on Cyprus” (Strasbourg: Council of Europe, 2006). 95 Trimikliniotis, “Nationality and Citizenship in Cyprus,” p. 402. 96 Ibid., p. 403. 97 Eugene Buttigieg, “Malta’s Citizenship Law: Evolution and Current Regime,” in BaubÖck et al., eds., Citizenship Policies in the New Europe, expanded and updated ed., p. 368. 98 Ibid. 92

190

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

In 1989, however, Malta underwent a major reform in its citizenship policy, moving to a policy of jus sanguinis for those born from that point onward, while also creating important exceptions to the prohibition on dual citizenship for emigrants. The government “had been elected in 1987 on the strength of an electoral mandate that included the promise to allow expatriates to regain their lost citizenship retrospectively by acquiring dual citizenship .”99 This move toward dual citizenship was “completed” by an amendment in 2000, which removed the formal restrictions on dual citizenship for both emigrants and immigrants,100 and the policy was further liberalized by an amendment in 2007.101 Overall, the changes to the policies of citizenship by birth and dual citizenship worked together to shift the larger conception of Maltese identity, as “the essential requirement now is descent, not birth on Maltese territory.”102 As with Cyprus, the naturalization criteria in Malta appear to be fairly liberal, including a five-year residency requirement. But in practice the policy is much stricter, since the Department for Citizenship and Expatriate Affairs has a “non-reviewable discretion” that leads to many rejections of those who are not of Maltese descent.103 As a result, the relatively liberal policy on dual citizenship for immigrants is counterbalanced by a restrictive practice of naturalization. Overall, despite considerable differences in their historical experiences, and even though their common inclusion in the Accession-12 category is largely coincidental, the Mediterranean postimperial states have citizenship policies that are not substantially different from the ten post-communist countries .

Conclusion This chapter aimed to draw a broad picture of citizenship policy in the Accession-12 countries. In contrast to the case studies in previous chapters, the analysis conducted here has been more tentative in nature. Moreover, the Accession-12 countries remain outside the main theoretical and comparative focus of the book. Yet the addition of these cases provides an important perspective to our understanding of the new EU-27. It shows that there is certainly no “common European standard” on citizenship, and none appears to be on the horizon. Moreover, the typical right-left 99 100 101 102 103

Ibid., p. 369. Ibid., pp. 371–372. See http://www.doi.gov.mt/EN/parliamentacts/2007/ACT%20X.pdf (accessed May 24, 2009). Buttigieg, “Malta’s Citizenship Law,” p. 373. Ibid., p. 376.

The New European Frontier

191

ideological distinctions and political dynamics on the politics of citizenship do not apply to most of the Accession-12 cases, where there seems to be a broader consensus in favor of the current policies. And perhaps because immigration is still quite new, and in many countries still on a very small scale, citizenship has not become politicized as a point of mobilization. The application of the CPI to the newest members of the EU demonstrates that they are all relatively restrictive, indicating possible legacies of the communist (and more recent post-communist) experience as well as the aftermath of British colonial rule. All twelve of these countries seem to share a tendency to overcompensate for their recent independence and status by asserting a strong sense of ethnic identity and national membership. In a sense, this represents continuity for the post-communist and post-colonial countries where nationalist movements and mobilization were closely linked to both independence and democratization, thus providing political support and momentum for nationalist elites, who were able to adapt these forces to a new competitive democratic framework. Yet this restrictiveness is perhaps ironic given that many of the “older” EU member-states in the EU-15 have been fearful of high levels of immigration from many of the recent accession countries, a theme that played an important role in the pre-accession talks. Overall, the commonality within this diverse set of countries adds a broader “non-Western” perspective to the questions explored in this book, suggesting that perhaps the countries that do not have an exclusively ethnic definition of citizenship are actually the unusual cases. While suggestive, it is still too early to determine the long-term implications of these fi ndings. One might argue that since the accession countries are already changing in so many other respects, perhaps they will be able to revise their citizenship policies quite radically and rapidly. But one could also claim that they will hold on to this one precious element of sovereignty even more dearly. In the context of this book, however, the inclusion of the Accession-12 reinforces the overall point that there is a great deal of variation in terms of the citizenship policies of the now-expanded EU. And in light of the ongoing struggle within the EU’s unwieldy organizational structure to include greater democratic participation without derailing the “ever closer Union” that most of its domestic elites continue to seek, the reality of this diversity presents a challenge to the prospects for convergence and institutional harmonization across a wider – but decidedly not deeper – EU.

Conclusion

The analysis in the preceding chapters has covered a wide range of territory, spanning the twenty-seven countries of the European Union. It has shown the tremendous diversity in the ways in which EU countries attribute citizenship – defi ned in a legal sense , as membership in a national political community – highlighting the changes that have taken place over time, particularly in the past two decades. The basis for much of the cross-national and over-time analysis in the book stems from the Citizenship Policy Index (CPI), a clear and systematic instrument (introduced in Chapter 1) for measuring and comparing citizenship policies. By applying the CPI to the EU-15 in both the 1980s and 2007, I was able to explore two social science “puzzles” that emerged from the results, in relation to both historical variation (addressed in Chapter 2) and more recent continuity and change (developed cross-nationally in Chapter 3, then fleshed out by case studies in Chapters 4–6). And it provided a baseline and framework for exploring the politics of citizenship in the four historically liberal countries (in Chapter 7), as well as in the twelve most recent EU member-states (in Chapter 8). Although certainly not a fully comprehensive measure, the CPI condenses the extraordinary complexity of citizenship laws into a common and meaningful lens through which to analyze and compare policies across time and space. Without the systematic comparisons from this “medium-N” analysis, it would be difficult to make broader arguments that are coherent and persuasive. Indeed, an examination of the citizenship policies of the EU-27 on the basis of either excessively cursory or unspecified criteria would be just as unhelpful as detailed case studies that did not draw out more general and comparable fi ndings. As a result of the approach of this book – which has combined careful cross-national comparisons with closer investigations 193

194

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

of actual cases – we have been able to better understand larger comparative categories, patterns, and trends. More specifically, this approach has allowed for the development of two sets of innovative arguments. With regard to the historical diversity of citizenship policies, Chapter 2 presented an original argument about the impact of colonialism and early democratization on national citizenship traditions. Through their experience as major colonial powers in the nineteenth century, France, Belgium, and the United Kingdom (which at that time included Ireland) developed relations with the outside world and its peoples that also coincided with the onset of democracy in each of these three countries. And even though the colonial experience was exploitative, violent, and not at all based on liberal or inclusive principles, the institutional legacy of this remarkable conjunction of historical experiences yielded citizenship policies that were surprisingly civic and open. Turning to the contemporary puzzle about why certain historically restrictive countries liberalized their citizenship policies whereas others did not, Chapter 3 argues that a variety of latent pressures – including demographic changes, international norms, interest groups , and the courts – have pushed for liberalization , while one major latent pressure – anti-immigrant public opinion – stands against it. The key factor for explaining different citizenship outcomes is whether public opinion gets “activated” politically by a far right party or movement. If not, then the forces for liberalization are free to exert their influence, and citizenship liberalization usually ensues. If the far right does become mobilized, however, the liberalizing forces are “trumped” by this powerful and restrictive force, which is able to exert disproportionate influence on the entire political spectrum. This argument helps to explain why Sweden , Finland , Luxembourg , the Netherlands , and Portugal liberalized their citizenship policies over the past ten or fi fteen years, whereas Austria , Denmark , and Italy have not (and why Spain might in the future, whereas Greece probably will not). Overall, these arguments emphasize what I call “the politics of citizenship,” an approach that focuses on both the ideological orientation of parties in power and the mobilization of anti-immigrant public opinion by the far right. One of the main purposes of this book has been to rejuvenate the study of citizenship in comparative perspective. As argued in the introduction, citizenship is just as fundamental a topic as civil society or the welfare state , and it should be at the core of comparative debates. For several decades questions related to immigration and citizenship were relegated to a marginal field often called “migration studies,” which did not include much theoretical, comparative, or causal analysis, and rarely was based on

Conclusion

195

social science methodology. Fortunately, over the past decade a growing number of scholars have rejuvenated this area of research and provided valuable comparative studies that focus on immigration and citizenship.1 It is my hope that by creating a coherent framework for understanding and comparing citizenship policies, applying it to the diverse set of cases within the European Union, and garnering evidence to assess and support several original theoretical arguments, this book has contributed to this larger effort. Building on the grounded foundations of this book, the rest of this concluding chapter attempts to develop some broader and more speculative insights and arguments. I focus on three specific themes. First, I address the question of whether a postnational or European citizenship could replace or challenge the national models that are at the core of this study. Second, I highlight a serious normative problem that emerges from the main theoretical argument of this study, namely that greater popular participation in decision making on issues related to immigration and citizenship actually leads to less inclusive outcomes. This raises questions about the suitability of “direct democracy ” on issues that are prone to populism and xenophobia – particularly in a new political climate that is marked by the fear of terrorism . Third, I discuss the limits of my legal approach to citizenship, since holding a passport clearly does not mean that full integration

1

See, e.g., Seyla Benhabib, Transformations of Citizenship: Dilemmas of the Nation-State in the Era of Globalization (Amsterdam: Van Gorcum, 2001); Erik Bleich, Race Politics in Britain and France: Ideas and Policymaking since the 1960s (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2003); Adrian Favell, Philosophies of Integration: Immigration and the Idea of Citizenship in France and Britain (New York: Palgrave, 2001); Andrew Geddes, The Politics of Migration and Immigration in Europe (London: Sage Publications, 2003); Randall Hansen, Citizenship and Immigration in Post-War Britain: The Institutional Origins of a Multicultural Nation (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000); Christian Joppke, Immigration and the Nation-State: The United States, Germany, and Great Britain (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999); Christian Joppke, Selecting by Origin: Ethnic Migration in the Liberal State (Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press, 2005); Ruud Koopmans, Paul Statham, Marco Giugni, and Florence Passy, Contested Citizenship: Immigration and Cultural Diversity in Europe (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2005); Gallya Lahav, Immigration and Politics in the New Europe: Reinventing Borders (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2004); Jeannette Money, Fences and Neighbors: The Political Geography of Immigration Control (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1999); Willem Maas, Creating European Citizens (Lanham, Md.: Rowman & Litlefield, 2007); Martin A. Schain, The Politics of Immigration in France, Britain, and the United States: A Comparative Study (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008); John C. Torpey, The Invention of the Passport: Surveillance, Citizenship, and the State (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2000); and Maarten P. Vink, Limits of European Citizenship: European Integration and Domestic Immigration Policies (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005).

196

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

has been accomplished, as it overlooks questions of culture, language, discrimination, and belonging.

Postnational or European Citizenship? Much of the recent scholarship on citizenship has been inspired by an impressive and provocative book by Rogers Brubaker, who argued in 1992 that France and Germany have fundamentally different traditions of citizenship – the former civic, the latter ethnic – which he viewed as deeply rooted and unlikely to change in the future.2 Brubaker’s work provoked a flurry of subsequent studies, many of which were critical of his fi ndings. Some criticized his historical accounts of both France and Germany.3 Others challenged his specific predictions, on the basis of France’s restrictive turn between 1993 and 1997 and Germany’s liberalization in 2000.4 But in the most controversial and protracted response, which launched a long-lasting debate in the field, a number of scholars began to assert that a convergence process was undermining the national distinctiveness at the core of Brubaker’s study. This convergence argument has been made from two different – and otherwise opposed – perspectives. The fi rst not only views the policies as converging across countries, but also holds that nation-states themselves are becoming irrelevant within an increasingly globalized economy and citizenry. As one proponent of this view states, ”Transnational migration is steadily eroding the traditional basis of nation-state membership, namely 2

3

4

Rogers Brubaker, Citizenship and Nationhood in France and Germany (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1992). On France, see Patrick Weil, Qu’est-ce qu’un Français? Histoire de la nationalité française depuis la Révolution (Paris: Bernard Grasset, 2002). On Germany, see Andreas Fahrmeier, “Nineteenth-Century German Citizenships: A Reconsideration,” Historical Journal 40, no. 3 (1997): 721–752; Dieter Gosewinkel, Einbürgern und Ausschließen: Die Nationalisierung der Staatsangehörigkeit vom Deutschen Bund bis zur Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Goettingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2001); Dieter Gosewinkel, “Citizenship and Naturalization Politics in Germany in the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries,” in Challenging Ethnic Citizenship: German and Israeli Perspectives on Immigration, edited by Daniel Levy and Yfaat Weiss (New York: Berghahn Books, 2002), pp. 59–75. See, e.g., Miriam Feldblum, Reconstructing Citizenship: The Politics of Nationality Reform and Immigration in Contemporary France (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1999); Randall Hansen and Patrick Weil, eds., Towards a European Nationality: Citizenship, Immigration and Nationality Law in the EU (New York: Palgrave, 2001); Joppke, Immigration and the Nation-State; Elaine R. Thomas, “Immigration and Changing Defi nitions of National Citizenship in France, Germany, and Britain,” French Politics 4, no. 3 (2006): 237–265.

Conclusion

197

citizenship.”5 Another has claimed that “when it comes to social services (education, health insurance, welfare, unemployment benefits) citizenship status is of minor importance in the United States and in Western Europe.”6 In short, this type of argument places great emphasis on the emergence of transnational and postnational norms based on individual human rights, which undermine the previously dominant system of nation-states.7 The second type of argument in support of citizenship convergence is based on a very different starting point. Rather than viewing the nationstate as weakened by global forces, its proponents claim that postnational arguments “miss the fundamental importance of citizenship: only nationals enjoy the full range of rights and privileges, and must fulfi l the full range of obligations that are linked with citizenship.”8 Instead, this argument is based on the contention that the extensive immigration of the postwar period throughout Western Europe has created a common need to better integrate immigrants in each society, resulting in a similar pressure for reforming citizenship laws across countries. One study therefore concludes, “Across Europe these reforms have broadly led to substantial, though not full, convergence in nationality law.”9 Another claims that “starting from very different concepts of nationality, several OECD countries are progressively modifying their legislation to take into account the considerable presence of foreign communities within their borders. This process is leading to a gradual de facto convergence of their points of view with respect to nationality law.”10 In short, according to this view, although nationstates may be retaining their strength and coherence while adapting to new international norms, the policies they choose are becoming increasingly similar.11 5

6

7

8

9

10

11

David Jacobson, Rights across Borders: Immigration and the Decline of Citizenship (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1996), p. 8. Saskia Sassen, Losing Control? Sovereignty in an Age of Globalization (New York: Columbia University Press, 1996), p. 95. Yasemin Nuhoglu Soysal, Limits of Citizenship: Migrants and Postnational Membership in Europe (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994). Hansen and Weil, “Introduction: Citizenship, Immigration and Nationality: Towards a Convergence in Europe?” in Towards a European Nationality, p. 2. Ibid., p. 3. Aleinikoff and Klusmeyer also claim that “there is a marked movement toward a convergence of citizenship acquisition rules among liberal democracies.” See T. Alexander Aleinikoff and Douglas Klusmeyer, Citizenship Policies for an Age of Migration (Washington, D.C.: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, 2002), p. 7. OECD, “Sopemi: Trends in International Migration, Annual Report 1994” (Paris: OECD, 1995), p. 172. Also see the important work of Gary Freeman and Christian Joppke , both of whom emphasize the impact of a common set of domestic factors (interest group politics and

198

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

Although they are opposed to one another in terms of their differing views on the strength or weakness of the nation-state, these two arguments share the perspective that the previous classification of countries based on their historical national traditions has become obsolete. In fact, they both repeatedly cite and critique the work of Brubaker , pointing to the changes within the EU and the countries of Europe over the last decade. The fi ndings presented in this book should put this debate to rest, at least for the foreseeable future. They show that while countries are not “diverging” in the sense of moving further apart, there remains a tremendous amount of cross-national variation within the EU-15, and especially within the wider EU-27. And while the future irrelevance of citizenship may have seemed a plausible outcome from the optimistic heyday of globalization and Europeanization of the 1990s, it appears very unlikely in today’s post-9/11 climate that once again emphasizes national sovereignty and security. As for European citizenship, EU elites have given up on the goal of creating the equivalent of a national citizenship at the European level, or even of implementing a common set of policies for each of the member-states. While it exists on a formal level, with symbolic features such as burgundy-colored passports for all citizens of EU countries, EU citizenship is purely a secondary category that is derivative of national citizenship. As Maarten Vink writes, “Although European policies and norms are certainly relevant, they do not decisively affect domestic politics.”12 This raises an important difference between EU policies on immigration and citizenship. For the former, progress has been made to standardize immigration policy on entry into the EU’s borders and to institutionalize the Europeanization of permanent residence through a “blue card” system, which allows certain immigrants to live and work in another EU country (excluding Denmark , Ireland , and the United Kingdom , which have not signed on to this proposal). For the latter, in contrast, it appears that “citizenship policy is probably one of the last policy fields to be Europeanized.”13 As a result, citizenship will probably remain a domestic concern that will escape the pressures for convergence and institutional harmonization .

12 13

judicial decision making, respectively) in pushing countries in a common direction toward increasing liberalization. See Gary P. Freeman, “Modes of Immigration Politics in Liberal Democratic States,” International Migration Review 29, no. 4 (1995): 881–913; and Christian Joppke, “Why Liberal States Accept Unwanted Immigration,” World Politics 50, no. 2 (1998): 266–293. Vink, Limits of European Citizenship, p. 164. Ibid., p. 157.

Conclusion

199

In other words, not only is it too early to declare the end of the nation-state, but it may be too soon to declare the end of historically rooted national distinctions as well. In his “empirically grounded middle position,” Christian Joppke quite sensibly argues that “we can observe both, a stubborn insistence of states to maintain control over their borders and increasing human-rights constraints on traditional sovereignty; a proliferation of membership categories and pressures to remould them as unitary citizenship; a persistence of distinct national models of handling (and containing) ethnic diversity and multicultural pressures on the monocultural texture of nations.”14 In fact, however much his work has been criticized – and on some issues rightfully so – Brubaker asked a question that is still very relevant: “Why have citizenship policies so far escaped the convergence to which immigration policies have been subjected? What is special about citizenship?”15 His answer is worth considering: “Citizenship in a nation-state is inevitably bound up with nationhood and national identity, membership of the state with membership of the nation. Proposals to redefi ne the legal criteria of citizenship raise large and ideologically charged questions of nationhood and national belonging … . The politics of citizenship today is fi rst and foremost a politics of nationhood.”16 It is certainly true that – perhaps because it touches on raw nerves that are most closely connected to a country’s identity and sovereignty – few issues have been as sensitive, explosive, or politically effective as citizenship. The academic debate will surely continue, but the evidence presented in this book adds a new and important element. Whereas Brubaker tends to treat citizenship as a static “identity,” my analysis stresses the contingency of political dynamics and especially the role of far right movements. In that sense it is quite telling that Brubaker gives priority to the “politics of nationhood,” and I prefer to focus on the “politics of citizenship .” The former implies a given national identity that is unchanging, while the latter connotes debates and outcomes that can be volatile and uncertain. Yet we “converge” in our conclusion about convergence. As shown clearly in this book, among the countries of the EU, citizenship policies have not converged to nearly the same degree as in other economic and social areas. In short, it appears that national distinctiveness – albeit in a more contingent and political form – will remain a lasting feature of citizenship in Europe. 14 15 16

Joppke, Immigration and the Nation-State, p. 4. Brubaker, Citizenship and Nationhood in France and Germany, p. 180. Ibid., p. 182.

200

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

Citizenship, Xenophobia, and Democracy As shown in earlier chapters of this book, over the past few decades almost all countries in the EU-27 have revisited their citizenship laws. And while the international and domestic pressures to liberalize have been significant, and sometimes decisive, they have occasionally been held in check by the countervailing pressure of a mobilized public opinion that is latently hostile to immigrants. In fact, as the evidence in this book shows, it appears that when public opinion gets activated politically, with an organized sponsor or means of expression, liberalization is usually stopped or an existing law becomes even more restrictive. This was certainly the case in Austria , Denmark, and Italy, where the far right parties have played leading roles; in Ireland, where a restrictive referendum passed overwhelmingly; and in Germany, where an unprecedented petition campaign rapidly stopped the momentum of liberalization. But if, on the other hand, elites manage to pass reforms without significant public involvement – as occurred, for example, in Finland, Luxembourg, and Sweden – then liberalization is the most likely outcome. This key fi nding brings us to a larger paradox, if not a serious normative dilemma: in terms of issues dealing with immigration and citizenship, a nondemocratic, elite-driven process may lead to more inclusive outcomes, whereas genuine popular involvement can result in more restrictive laws and institutions. In other words, proponents of liberal, inclusive citizenship policies should give more thought to the role of democracy – whether representative democracy that results in the inclusion of far right parties in governments and policymaking, or especially direct democracy that takes the form of referenda and initiatives – in issues that are prone to populism, xenophobia, and racism.17 Over the past two decades, extremist right-wing populist parties across Europe have managed quite successfully to adapt the language of democracy and “popular sovereignty” to their racist and xenophobic purposes in a way that certainly violates the liberal and tolerant spirit of modern European democracy, even if it does not seek to overthrow the democratic system.18 Instead, one of the favorite strategies of the far right is to accuse – often

17

18

For a more focused argument along these lines, see Marc Morjé Howard, “Can Populism Be Suppressed in a Democracy? Austria, Germany, and the European Union,” East European Politics and Societies 15, no. 1 (2001): 18–32. This, of course, makes these parties quite distinct from the “old” extremist parties in the fi rst half of the twentieth century, which were explicitly anti-democratic and sought to overthrow the institutions of democracy.

Conclusion

201

with good reason – the mainstream parties of being “elitist” and inattentive to the concerns of “the people,” and then to call for direct democracy that circumvents the influence of elites. As a result, countries are increasingly relying on referenda and popular initiatives, which advocates of the far right view as being the ultimate expression of “true democracy.” But the problem is that many referenda wind up pandering to the lowest common denominator for citizens’ responses to issues about which they have no fair or informed basis for judgment. As a result, people often vote based on their fears – which are very effectively churned up by the far right – rather than on a careful assessment of the issues. There is no obvious solution to the dilemma created by the growing practice of “direct democracy,” and the political forces in favor of inclusive political outcomes therefore find themselves in a difficult position. Unless they manage to assuage the potential xenophobic fears of voters, antiimmigrant outcomes may continue to increase in the future. The current strategy of European elites attempting to recover from the debacle of the European Constitution is to prevent referenda from taking place in the first place. While understandable, this is ultimately a defensive reaction, which may actually intensify the problem and increase the resentment against elites who ignore public sentiments. The ratification process for the EU Constitution provides a useful illustration of the problem that direct democracy creates for European and domestic elites. Although not explicitly about immigration or citizenship, of course, these questions did filter into the debates at times.19 But in general the process highlights the complete disjuncture between elite and public opinion on the Constitution, which, ironically, was supposed to “democratize” the EU. Of the eighteen countries that voted “yes,” sixteen passed it solely in a parliamentary vote where it usually passed with virtual unanimity (the exceptions were Spain and Luxembourg, which held successful public referenda). In contrast, of the four countries that voted in referenda, the Constitution failed in two (France and the Netherlands). And of the seven countries that postponed their decision – probably indefi nitely, since the Constitution is now considered dead – six were scheduled to hold referenda, many of which were probably going to fail. After this experience, the EU was careful to avoid referenda as much as possible in agreeing on the 2007 Lisbon Treaty , a “Constitution light” that was supposed to 19

For example, the “no” camp in the French referendum in 2005 very effectively used the symbol of the “Polish plumber,” symbolizing the expected rush of low-cost labor from Eastern Europe, to stoke anti-immigrant fears.

202

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

be passed in all twenty-seven countries in 2008. As it turns out, however, Ireland – the only state that was obligated (by its national constitution) to hold a referendum – voted “no” in June 2008, thus putting the ratification process into limbo. In short, these examples show the extent of the imbalance between elite and popular opinion across the countries of Europe. The great challenge for both European and domestic leaders will be to surmount this much-criticized “democratic deficit,” while avoiding the pernicious trap of populism. In order to succeed, European democracy will have to incorporate the successful elements of post–World War II West European democracy, namely the establishment and maintenance of a competitive, representative multi-party democratic system, in which extreme right elements are actively marginalized. This system will have to adapt to new economic constraints and new demographic realities, of course, but a crucial indicator of the success of the entire European project will be the inclusion and integration of immigrants. In order to succeed, political, economic, and cultural elites of all moderate ideological persuasions should be prepared to set the boundaries – whether by means of constitutional court s, electoral rules, or popular discourse – on what kinds of democratic outcomes are acceptable or tolerable. And activists who support inclusive policies should seek to build a grass-roots following if they want to be able to counteract the mobilizing power of the far right. The alternative, which would allow the current form of “direct democracy” to expand, risks further opening the door to popular outcomes that are exclusionary, racist, and anti-liberal – in the sense of restricting the human and political rights of certain groups of people. This democratic tension will increase tremendously if more acts of terrorism like the Madrid or London bombings take place on European soil, further exacerbating the latent hostility between immigrants and the host populations, and potentially leading to new restrictions on immigrants. In fact, if national security is deemed at risk, a new congruence may develop between elites and public opinion, since support for the political rights and civil liberties of immigrants is likely to decrease in reaction to more terrorist attacks, even in the historically liberal countries. In any case, the issue of citizenship has become, and will remain, central in these debates. Some argue that it is crucial to integrate immigrants as new citizens, rather than leave them marginalized and angry. Others respond that the rights of citizenship should not easily be granted to people who could later abuse those rights in order to foster terrorism on their “home” soil. The agenda in these countries is still very much in flux, and the real or manipulated fear of terrorism has injected a new and destabilizing element into the debate.

Conclusion

203

Citizenship and Beyond My approach to citizenship in this book is explicitly and intentionally juridical, which essentially boils down to whether an immigrant has the right to a passport. But this leaves out other common uses of the term “citizenship” – which has many different meanings, uses, and connotations, depending on the context – such as identity, rights, or participation.20 I do not mean to suggest that these topics are less important or relevant. On the contrary, these different definitions of citizenship lead to distinct but important research questions that deserve closer comparative study. How have national and European identities been changing as the EU has deepened and widened? What are the different rights, privileges, and obligations associated with citizenship across countries? Which types of people are more likely to participate and engage in civil society , and why?21 These other aspects of citizenship warrant closer attention, but to attempt to combine them into a larger “umbrella” definition, while also conducting a cross-national empirical study that tests theoretical arguments, would certainly not lead to clear and meaningful results. A fundamental premise of this project has been that citizenship – as defi ned and applied here – matters. As argued in the Introduction to the book, the distinction between citizens and foreigners in a society is important because citizenship provides voting rights, greater welfare state benefits , and the opportunity for public-sector employment, among other advantages. Greater numbers of naturalized citizens will also play a major role in the resolution of the demographic and pension crises, as most EU countries desperately need more long-term workers in order to sustain their economies. And several studies show that naturalized citizens are more likely to integrate into their new society than residents who remain noncitizens.22 Indeed, it seems logical that naturalized citizens will speak the 20

21

22

For an insightful review of the different approaches to the concept of citizenship, see Christian Joppke, “Transformation of Citizenship: Status, Rights, Identity,” Citizenship Studies 11, no. 1 (2007): 37–48. This is a topic I have written about extensively. See, e.g., Marc Morjé Howard, The Weakness of Civil Society in Post-Communist Europe (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2003); Marc Morjé Howard and Leah Gilbert, “A Cross-National Comparison of the Internal Effects of Participation in Voluntary Organizations,” Political Studies 56, no. 1 (2008): 12–32. See Randall Hansen, “A European Citizenship or a Europe of Citizens? Third Country Nationals in the EU,” Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies 24, no. 4 (1998): 751– 768; Aleinikoff and Klusmeyer, Citizenship Policies for an Age of Migration; Bernt Bratsberg, James F. Ragan, and Zafar M. Nasir, “The Effect of Naturalization on Wage Growth: A Panel Study of Young Male Immigrants,” Journal of Labor Economics 20,

204

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

national language better, feel more loyal and patriotic, be more accepted by other citizens, and feel secure in their rights. In this sense, despite significant variability depending on the country and group involved, the acquisition of citizenship can serve as a basic indicator of integration . While defensible, and in my view still accurate on the whole, this assumption can be challenged in a number of respects. First, one cannot assume that all citizens of immigrant origin will be fully integrated, loyal, and happy participants in the host society just because they now hold a new passport. For example, all four of the London suicide bombers on July 7, 2005, were British citizens, and most of the youth who rioted and burned cars in the fall of 2005 in the suburbs of Paris were French citizens. These frightening acts provide a vivid reminder that some citizens of immigrant origin may still feel completely marginalized, separate, and destructive. Second, in countries where the process is an automatic right based on certain conditions, naturalization does not necessarily mean that a person is more linguistically fluent, more culturally adapted, or more civically involved than someone who has not taken that fi nal step to citizenship. Third, even naturalized citizens who are fluent and well-integrated are not immune to formal or informal discrimination, whether as a result of a noticeable or difficult-to-understand accent, different dress or customs, or of course racial bias. When it exists – and it is certainly quite widespread – this type of prejudice or bigotry is generally expressed without regard to a person’s citizenship status. And obviously the acquisition of citizenship does not in and of itself change a person’s accent or appearance. In other words, while important, the distinction between citizen and noncitizen does not explain many of the critical nuances in social life and immigrant integration . Rather than undermining the importance of citizenship as a concept, these challenges show the need eventually to move beyond citizenship, in the sense of better understanding the larger principles that citizenship is meant to signify. The study of immigrant integration is still at a relatively early stage. Much more research is needed – whether in political science, sociology, demography, psychology, philosophy, or economics – to help us comprehend how and why certain people and groups are able to integrate better than others, and how and why certain societies and cultures are more

no. 3 (2002): 568–597; and Evelyn Ersanilli and Ruud Koopmans, “Rewarding Integration? Citizenship Regulations and Socio-Cultural Integration of Immigrants in the Netherlands, France, and Germany,” Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies 36, no. 4 (2010).

Conclusion

205

accepting and open than others. But if we do not start with citizenship, we will overlook the main mechanism for distinguishing between people, both across countries and within societies. This book opened with an insightful observation by Aristotle about the state and its citizens, which “compels us to consider who should properly be called a citizen and what a citizen really is.”23 The rest of the book addressed these ancient concerns in the modern context of the memberstates of the European Union. In doing so, I have sought to demonstrate the importance of citizenship, particularly in comparative perspective, for contemporary social science research. By examining the countries of the European Union, I have focused on a relatively coherent set of cases that face common challenges within a shared supranational institutional framework, while still displaying considerable variation and distinct patterns and trends. Since the question of citizenship – as both legal concept and political practice – goes well beyond the borders of Europe, there is no reason why similar analyses could not be conducted in other regions of the world. As this study shows, national citizenship will certainly remain a critical and enduring feature of modern life.

23

Aristotle, The Politics of Aristotle, edited and translated by Ernest Barker (London: Oxford University Press, 1941), pp. 1247b–1275a.

Appendix I Detailed Breakdown of the Three CPI Components

A. The EU-15 in the 1980s 1. Jus Soli 2. Naturalization Requirements 3. Dual Citizenship for Immigrants B. The EU-15 Today 1. Jus Soli 2. Naturalization Requirements 3. Dual Citizenship for Immigrants C. The 12 Accession Countries Today 1. Jus Soli 2. Naturalization Requirements 3. Dual Citizenship for Immigrants

207

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

208 A1) Jus Soli in the 1980s

Country Austria Belgium Denmark Finland France Germany Greece Ireland Italy Luxembourg Netherlands Portugal Spain Sweden United Kingdom a

b c d e f g

Jus soli at birth (0–2)

Jus soli after birth (0–2)

0 1a 0 0 1b 0 0 2c 0 0 1d 1.5e 1f 0 1.5g

0 2 0 0 2 0 0 2 0 0 2 0 0 0 2

Average/fi nal jus soli score (0–2) 0 1.5 0 0 1.5 0 0 2 0 0 1.5 0.75 0.5 0 1.75

One parent born in Belgium and resident for 5 of 10 years preceding the birth (double jus soli) or both parents resident 10 years before birth. One parent born in France (double jus soli). No restrictions (until 2004 referendum). One parent born in Netherlands (double jus soli). One parent 10 years’ legal residence. One parent born in Spain (double jus soli). One parent unlimited residence permit.

209

d

c

b

a

0 2 0.86 1.43 1.43 0 0 1.71 1.43 0 1.43 0 0 1.43 1.43

1.5 2 2 2 2 1 0 2 2 2 1 2 2 2 2

Spousal residenceb (0–2) 0.75 2 1.43 1.72 1.72 0.5 0 1.86 1.72 1 1.22 1 1 1.72 1.72

Average naturalization score (0–2)

−1 −0.25

−0.50 −0.75 −0.75 −0.75 −1 −0.50

−0.25 −0.25

Naturalization “correction”d 0.50 1.75 1.43 1.72 1.22 0 0 1.11 0.72 0.50 1.22 0 0.75 1.72 1.72

Final naturalization score (0 –2)

For immigrants, minimum residence requirements of 3 years yields a score of 2; 4 years = 1.71; 5 years = 1.43; 6 years = 1.14; 7 years = 0.86; 8 years = 0.57; 9 years = 0.29; 10 years or more = 0. For spouses, 3 years or fewer = 2 points; 4 years = 1.5; 5 years = 1; 6 years = 0.5; 7 years or more = 0. Based on an average of the available 1985–1990 figures, mainly from Eurostat data. If the naturalization rate was less than 0.25, the fi nal naturalization score was reduced by 1 point; if the rate was between 0.25 and 0.75, the score was reduced by 0.75 points; rates between 0.75 and 1.5 reduced scores by 0.5 points; and rates of 1.5 to 2.5 brought down the fi nal naturalization scores by 0.25 points. Note also that if the “correction” leads to a negative fi nal score, it was changed to 0.

Austria Belgium Denmark Finland France Germany Greece Ireland Italy Luxembourg Netherlands Portugal Spain Sweden United Kingdom

Country

Immigrant residencea (0–2)

A2) Naturalization Requirements in the 1980s

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

210

A3) Dual Citizenship for Immigrants in the 1980s

Country Austria Belgium Denmark Finland France Germany Greece Ireland Italy Luxembourg Netherlands Portugal Spain Sweden United Kingdom a b

Dual citizenship allowed (0–2) 0 2 0 0 2 0 2 2 0 0 0 2 0 0 2

Naturalization “correction”b −0.25 −0.25

−0.50 −0.75 −0.75 −0.75 −1 −0.5 −1 −0.25

Final dual citizenship score (0 –2) 0 1.75 0 0 1.5 0 1.25 1.25 0 0 0 1 0 0 2

Based on an average of the available 1985–1990 figures, mainly from Eurostat data. If the naturalization rate was less than 0.25, the fi nal naturalization score was reduced by 1 point; if the rate was between 0.25 and 0.75, the score was reduced by 0.75 pts; rates between 0.75 and 1.5 reduced scores by 0.5 points; and rates of 1.5 to 2.5 brought down the fi nal naturalization scores by 0.25 points. Note also that if the “correction” leads to a negative fi nal score, it was changed to 0.

Appendix I

211

B1) Jus Soli Today

Country Austria Belgium Denmark Finland France Germany Greece Ireland Italy Luxembourg Netherlands Portugal Spain Sweden United Kingdom a

b c d e f g h

i

Jus soli at birth (0–2)

Jus soli after birth (0–2)

Average/fi nal jus soli score (0 –2)

0 1a 0 0 1b 1.5c 0 2d 0 0 1e 1.5f 1g 1.5h 1.5i

0 2 0 2 2 0 0 2 0 2 2 2 0 2 2

0 1.5 0 1 1.5 0.75 0 2 0 1 1.5 1.75 0.5 1.75 1.75

One parent born in Belgium and resident for 5 of 10 years preceding the birth (double jus soli) or both parents resident 10 years before birth. One parent born in France (double jus soli). One parent 8 years’ legal residence and unlimited residence permit. One parent 3 years’ legal residence (since 2004 referendum; none before that). One parent born in Netherlands (double jus soli). One parent 5 years’ legal residence. One parent born in Spain (double jus soli). All minors who reside in Sweden for 5 years automatically have a legal entitlement to citizenship. One parent unlimited residence permit.

212

f

e

d

c

b

a

0 2 0.29 1.14 1.43 0.57 0 1.71 0 0.85 1.43 1.14 0 1.43 1.43 −0.5

−0.25

−0.5 −0.5

−0.25 −0.5 −0.5

−0.5

−0.5

Civic integration requirementb (immigrants) 0.5 2 0 1.5 2 2 2 2 2 0 2 2 2 2 2

Spousal residencec (0–2)

−0.5

−0.5 −0.5

−0.25 −0.5

−0.5

−0.5

Civic integration requirement (spouses) 0 2 0 1.32 1.47 0.79 0.75 1.86 1 0 1.22 1.57 0.88 1.72 1.22

Average naturalization score (0–2)

−0.50f −0.50

−0.25 −1 −0.50 −0.75 −0.75

Naturalization “correction”e

0 2 0 1.32 1.47 0.54 0 1.36 0.25 0 1.22 1.07 0.38 1.72 1.22

Final naturalization score (0 –2)

For immigrants, minimum residence requirements of 3 years yields a score of 2; 4 years = 1.71; 5 years = 1.43; 6 years = 1.14; 7 years = 0.86; 8 years = 0.57; 9 years = 0.29; 10 years or more = 0. Countries that have added “civic integration” requirements to serve as a disincentive or obstacle to naturalization have their scores reduced by either 0.25 or 0.5, depending on how difficult the new requirement or test seems to be (with separate scores for immigrant and spousal naturalization). For spouses, 3 years or fewer = 2 points; 4 years = 1.5; 5 years = 1; 6 years = 0.5; 7 years or more = 0. Based on an average of the available 2000–2005 figures, mainly from Eurostat data. If the naturalization rate was less than 0.25, the fi nal naturalization score was reduced by 1 point; if the rate was between 0.25 and 0.75, the score was reduced by 0.75 points; rates between 0.75 and 1.5 reduced scores by 0.50 points; and rates of 1.5 to 2.5 brought down the fi nal naturalization scores by 0.25 points. Note also that if the “correction” leads to a negative fi nal score, it was changed to 0. Portugal was reduced by only 0.50 (rather than 0.75) since the 2006 law has yet to have an impact on the naturalization rates considered here.

Austria Belgium Denmark Finland France Germany Greece Ireland Italy Luxembourg Netherlands Portugal Spain Sweden United Kingdom

Country

Immigrant residencea (0–2)

B2) Naturalization Requirements Today

Appendix I

213

B3) Dual Citizenship for Immigrants Today

Country Austria Belgium Denmark Finland France Germany Greece Ireland Italy Luxembourg Netherlands Portugal Spain Sweden United Kingdom a b

c

d

e

f

Dual citizenship allowed (0–2) 0 2 0 2 2 1c 2 2 2 2 1.5d 2 1f 2 2

Naturalization “correction”b

−0.25 −1 −0.50 −0.75 −0.75 −0.50e −0.50

Final dual citizenship score (0 –2) 0 2 0 2 2 0.75 1 1.5 1.25 1.25 1.5 1.5 0.5 2 2

Based on an average of the available 2000–2005 figures, mainly from Eurostat data. If the naturalization rate was less than 0.25, the fi nal naturalization score was reduced by 1 point; if the rate was between 0.25 and 0.75, the score was reduced by 0.75 points; rates between 0.75 and 1.5 reduced scores by 0.5 points; and rates of 1.5 to 2.5 brought down the fi nal naturalization scores by 0.25 points. Note also that if the “correction” leads to a negative fi nal score, it was changed to 0. Germany receives an intermediate coding. Although naturalizing immigrants are not formally allowed to maintain their prior citizenship, there are a large number of dual citizenships in practice. While the official policy of the Netherlands still does not allow for dual citizenship, numerous exceptions were established over the course of the 1990s, resulting in a very liberal dual citizenship policy in practice. Portugal was reduced by only 0.50 (rather than 0.75) since the 2006 law has yet to have an impact on the naturalization rates considered here. Spain does not require proof of renunciation of the prior citizenship.

The Politics of Citizenship in Europe

214 C1) Jus Soli Today

Country Bulgaria Cyprus Czech Republic Estonia Hungary Latvia Lithuania Malta Poland Romania Slovakia Slovenia

Jus soli at birth (0–2)

Jus soli after birth (0–2)

Average/fi nal jus soli score (0 –2)

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

C2) Naturalization Requirements Todaya

Country Bulgaria Cyprus Czech Republic Estonia Hungary Latvia Lithuania Malta Poland Romania Slovakia Slovenia a

b

c

Immigrant residenceb (0–2)

Naturalization “correction”c

Final naturalization score (0 –2)

1.43 0.86 1.43 1.43 0.57 1.43 0 1.43 1.43 1.43 1.43 0

−0.75 −0.75 −0.75 −0.75 −0.75 −0.75 −0.75 −0.75 −0.75 −0.75 −0.75 −0.75

0.68 0.11 0.68 0.68 0 0.68 0 0.68 0.68 0.68 0.68 0

Note that spousal residence requirements are not included for the 12 “accession countries,” since this information is not available for many of the countries. The same applies to the civic integration requirements for both immigrants and spouses. For immigrants, minimum residence requirements of 3 years yields a score of 2; 4 years = 1.71; 5 years = 1.43; 6 years = 1.14; 7 years = 0.86; 8 years = 0.57; 9 years = 0.29; 10 years or more = 0. As explained in Chapter 8, the naturalization rates for these countries cannot be calculated accurately, since the large majority of naturalizations are actually of emigrants, not immigrants. The scores for all of the accession countries have therefore been “corrected” by 0.75. Note also that if the “correction” leads to a negative fi nal score, it was changed to 0.

Appendix I

215

C3) Dual Citizenship for Immigrants Today

Country Bulgaria Cyprus Czech Republic Estonia Hungary Latvia Lithuania Malta Poland Romania Slovakia Slovenia a

Dual citizenship allowed (0–2)

Naturalization “correction”a

2 0 0 0 2 0 0 2 0 2 2 0

−0.75 −0.75 −0.75 −0.75 −0.75 −0.75 −0.75 −0.75 −0.75 −0.75 −0.75 −0.75

Final dual citizenship score (0 –2) 1.25 0 0 0 1.25 0 0 1.25 0 0 1.25 0

As explained in Chapter 8, the naturalization rates for these countries cannot be calculated accurately, since the large majority of naturalizations are actually of emigrants, not immigrants. The scores for all of the accession countries have therefore been “corrected” by 0.75. Note also that if the “correction” leads to a negative fi nal score, it was changed to 0.

Appendix II Naturalization Rates for the EU-15a

Country Austria Belgium Denmark Finland France Germany Greece Ireland Italy Luxembourg Netherlands Portugal Spain Sweden United Kingdom a

1985–1990 average

2000 –2005 average

2.16 2.42 2.69 6.51 1.22 0.36 0.66 0.39 0.07 0.79 3.52 0.09 2.24 4.68 3.57

4.33 7.28 5.02 4.33 4.73 2.09 0.23 1.37 0.68 0.43 5.36 0.56 1.00 7.66 4.20

Naturalization rates correspond to the number of citizenship acquisitions per year as a percentage of the total foreign resident population in that year. Accurate data not available for the 12 “accession countries.”

217

References

Books and Articles Aleinikoff, T. Alexander, and Douglas Klusmeyer. “Plural Nationality: Facing the Future in a Migratory World.” In Citizenship Today: Global Perspectives and Practices, edited by T. Alexander Aleinikoff and Douglas Klusmeyer (Washington, D.C.: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, 2001), pp. 63–88. Citizenship Policies for an Age of Migration. Washington, D.C.: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, 2002. eds. From Migrants to Citizens: Membership in a Changing World. Washington, D.C.: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, 2000. eds. Citizenship Today: Global Perspectives and Practices. Washington, D.C.: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, 2001. Amiraux, Valérie, and Patrick Simon. “There Are No Minorities Here: Cultures of Scholarship and Public Debate on Immigrants and Integration in France.” International Journal of Comparative Sociology 47, nos. 3–4 (2006): 191–215. Andersen, Jørgen Goul, and Tor Bjørklund. “Radical Right-Wing Populism in Scandinavia: From Tax Revolt to Neo-Liberalism and Xenophobia.” In The Politics of the Extreme Right, edited by Paul Hainsworth (New York: Pinter, 2000), pp. 193–223. Anil, Merih. “No More Foreigners? The Remaking of German Naturalization and Citizenship Law, 1990–2000.” Dialectical Anthropology 29, no. 3/4 (2005): 453–470. Apostolou, Andrew. “Greece’s Immigration Policy Challenge.” Western Policy Center, July 2002. Arena, Marta, Bruno Nascimbene, and Giovanna Zincone. “Italy.” In Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, Volume 2, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Eva Ersbøll, Kees Groenendijk, and Harald Waldrauch (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2006), pp. 329–366. Aristotle. The Politics of Aristotle, edited and translated by Ernest Barker. London: Oxford University Press, 1941. 219

220

References

Art, David. The Politics of the Nazi Past in Germany and Austria. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006. Baganha, Maria Ioannis, and Constança Urbano de Sousa. “Portugal.” In Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, Volume 2, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Eva Ersbøll, Kees Groenendijk, and Harald Waldrauch (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2006), pp. 435–476. Baršová, Andrea. “Czech Citizenship Legislation between Past and Future.” In Citizenship Policies in the New Europe, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Bernhard Perchinig, and Wiebke Sievers (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2007), pp. 163–184. Bauböck, Rainer, Eva Ersbøll, Kees Groenendijk, and Harald Waldrauch, eds. Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, 2 vols. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2006. Bauböck, Rainer, Bernhard Perchinig, and Wiebke Sievers, eds. Citizenship Policies in the New Europe. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2007. “Preface.” In Citizenship Policies in the New Europe, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Bernhard Perchinig, and Wiebke Sievers (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2007), pp. 11–16. Citizenship Policies in the New Europe, expanded and updated ed. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2009. Beiner, Ronald, ed. Theorizing Citizenship. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1995. Bendix, Reinhard. Nation-Building and Citizenship: Studies of Our Changing Social Order. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1977. Benhabib, Seyla. Transformations of Citizenship: Dilemmas of the Nation-State in the Era of Globalization. Amsterdam: Van Gorcum, 2001. “Political Theory and Political Membership in a Changing World.” In Political Science: State of the Discipline, edited by Ira Katznelson and Helen V. Milner (New York: W. W. Norton, 2002), pp. 404–432. “Transformations of Citizenship: The Case of Contemporary Europe.” Government and Opposition 37, no. 4 (2002): 439 –465. Bernitz , Hedvig Lokrantz , and Henrik Bernitz. “Sweden.” In Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, Volume 2, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Eva Ersbøll, Kees Groenendijk, and Harald Waldrauch (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2006), pp. 517–550. Betts, Raymond F. The False Dawn: European Imperialism in the Nineteenth Century. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1975. Assimilation and Association in French Colonial Theory, 1890–1914. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2005. Billiet, Jaak, Bart Maddens, and André-Paul Frognier. “Does Belgium (Still) Exist? Differences in Political Culture between Flemings and Walloons.” West European Politics 29, no. 5 (2006): 912 –932. Bjørklund, Tor, and Jørgen Goul Andersen. “Anti-Immigration Parties in Denmark and Norway: The Progress Parties and the Danish People’s Party.” In Shadows over Europe: The Development and Impact of the Extreme Right in Western Europe, edited by Martin Schain , Aristide Zolberg, and Patrick Hossay ( New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2002), pp. 107–136.

References

221

Bleich, Erik. Race Politics in Britain and France: Ideas and Policymaking since the 1960s. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2003. “The Legacies of History? Colonization and Immigrant Integration in Britain and France.” Theory and Society 34, no. 2 (2005): 171–195. Boelaert-Suominen, Sonja. “Non-EU Nationals and Council Directive 2003/109/ EC on the Status of Third-Country Nationals Who Are Long-Term Residents: Five Paces Forward and Possibly Three Paces Back.” Common Market Law Review 42, no. 4 (2005): 1011–1052. Bratsberg, Bernt, James F. Ragan, and Zafar M. Nasir. “The Effect of Naturalization on Wage Growth: A Panel Study of Young Male Immigrants.” Journal of Labor Economics 20, no. 3 (2002): 568–597. Brinar, Irena, and Marjan Svetlicic. “Enlargement of the European Union: The Case of Slovenia.” Journal of European Public Policy 6, no. 5 (1999): 802 –821. Brubaker, Rogers. Citizenship and Nationhood in France and Germany. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1992. Burnotte-Boreux, Cathérine, and Yvan Casteels. La société luxembourgeoise à travers le recensement de 2001: Fiches thématiques. Luxembourg: Statec and Centre Universitaire de Luxembourg, 2001. Buruma, Ian. Murder in Amsterdam: The Death of Theo Van Gogh and the Limits of Tolerance. New York: Penguin Press, 2006. Butt Philip, Alan. “European Union Immigration Policy: Phantom, Fantasy, or Fact.” West European Politics 17, no. 2 (1994): 168–191. Buttigieg, Eugene. “Malta’s Citizenship Law: Evolution and Current Regime.” In Citizenship Policies in the New Europe, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Bernhard Perchinig, and Wiebke Sievers (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2007), pp. 245–262. Campani, Giovanna. “Immigration and Racism in Southern Europe: The Italian Case.” Ethnic and Racial Studies 16, no. 3 (1993): 507–535. Carens, Joseph. “Aliens and Citizens: The Case for Open Borders.” In Theorizing Citizenship, edited by Ronald Beiner (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1995), pp. 229–255. Castles, Stephen, and Mark J. Miller. The Age of Migration, 3rd ed. New York: Guilford Press, 2003. Charney, Evan. “Identity and Liberal Nationalism.” American Political Science Review 97, no. 2 (2003): 295–310. Chin, Jeff, and Lise A. Truex. “The Question of Citizenship in the Baltics.” Journal of Democracy 7, no. 1 (1996): 133–147. Chiva, Cristina. “Ethnic Minority Rights in Central and Eastern Europe: The Case of the Hungarian ‘Status Law.’” Government & Opposition 41, no. 3 (2006): 401–421. Christopoulos, Dimitris. “Greece.” In Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, Volume 2, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Eva Ersbøll, Kees Groenendijk, and Harald Waldrauch (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2006), pp. 253–288. Çinar, Dilek. “From Aliens to Citizens: A Comparative Analysis of Rules of Transition.” In From Aliens to Citizens: Redefining the Status of Immigrants in Europe, edited by Rainer Bauböck (Aldershot, U.K.: Avebury, 1994), pp. 49–72. Çinar, Dilek, and Harald Waldrauch. “Austria.” In Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, Volume 2, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Eva Ersbøll, Kees

222

References

Groenendijk, and Harald Waldrauch (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2006), pp. 19–62. Colley, Linda. Britons: Forging the Nation, 1707 –1837. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1992. Conklin, Alice L. A Mission to Civilize: The Republican Idea of Empire in France and West Africa, 1895–1930. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1997. Cornelius, Wayne A. , Takeyuki Tsuda, Philip L. Martin, and James F. Hollifield, eds. Controlling Immigration: A Global Perspective, 2nd ed. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2004. Dahl, Robert A. Polyarchy: Participation and Opposition. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1971. Deets, Stephen, and Sherrill Stroschein. “Dilemmas of Autonomy and Liberal Pluralism: Examples Involving Hungarians in Central Europe.” Nations and Nationalism 11, no. 2 (2005): 285–305. de Hart, Betty. “The End of Multiculturalism: The End of Dual Citizenship? Political and Public Debates on Dual Citizenship in The Netherlands (1980–2004).” In Dual Citizenhsip in Europe: From Nationhood to Societal Integration, edited by Thomas Faist (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2007), pp. 77–102. de Hart, Betty, and Kees Groenendijk. “Multiple Nationality: The Practice of Germany and the Netherlands.” In International Migration Law: Development Paradigms and Key Challenges, edited by Ryszard Cholewinski, Richard Perruchoud, and Euan MacDonald (The Hague: T. M. C. Asser Press, 2007), pp. 87–103. Dimitras , Panayote Elias. “Greece: The Virtual Absence of an Extreme Right.” In The Extreme Right in Europe and the USA , edited by Paul Hainsworth ( New York: St. Martin’s , 1992), pp. 246–268. Dirks, Nicholas B., ed. Colonialism and Culture. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1992. Doyle, Michael W. Empires. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1986. Dummett , Ann. “United Kingdom.” In Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, Volume 2, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Eva Ersbøll, Kees Groenendijk, and Harald Waldrauch (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2006), pp. 551–585. Dutt, Pushan, and Devashish Mitra. “Political Ideology and Endogenous Trade Policy: An Empirical Investigation.” Review of Economics and Statistics 87, no. 1 (2005): 59 –72. Easton, Steward C. The Rise and Fall of Western Colonialism. New York: Frederick A. Praeger, 1964. Ellwood, Sheelagh. “The Extreme Right in Spain: A Dying Species?” In The Far Right in Western and Eastern Europe, edited by Ronnie Ferguson, Luciano Cheles, and Michalina Vaughan (New York: Longman, 1995), pp. 91–107. Emerson, Barbara. Leopold II of the Belgians: King of Colonialism. London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1979. Encarnación, Omar G. “The Politics of Immigration: Why Spain Is Different.” Mediterranean Quarterly 15, no. 4 (2004): 167–185. Entzinger, Han. “The Rise and Fall of Multiculturalism: The Case of the Netherlands.” In Toward Assimilation and Citizenship: Immigrants in Liberal Nation-States, edited by Christian Joppke and Ewa Morawska (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003), pp. 59–86.

References

223

Ersbøll, Eva. “Nationality Law in Denmark, Finland and Sweden.” In Towards a European Nationality: Citizenship, Immigration, and Nationality Law in the EU, edited by Randall Hansen and Patrick Weil (New York: Palgrave, 2001), pp. 230–254. “Denmark.” In Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, Volume 2, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Eva Ersbøll, Kees Groenendijk, and Harald Waldrauch (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2006), pp. 105–148. Etzioni, Amitai. “Citizenship Tests: A Comparative, Communitarian Perspective.” Political Quarterly 78, no. 3 (2007): 353–363. Evans, J. M. “Immigration Act 1971.” Modern Law Review 35, no. 5 (1972): 508–524. Everson, Michelle. “‘Subjects,’ or ‘Citizens of Erewhon’? Law and Non-Law in the Development of a ‘British Citizenship.’” Citizenship Studies 7, no. 1 (2003): 57–83. Fagerlund, Jessica. “Finland.” In Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, Volume 2, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Eva Ersbøll, Kees Groenendijk, and Harald Waldrauch (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2006), pp. 149–186. Fahrmeier, Andreas. “Nineteenth-Century German Citizenships: A Reconsideration.” Historical Journal 40, no. 3 (1997): 721–752. Faist, Thomas, Jürgen Gerdes, and Beate Rieple. “Dual Citizenship as a PathDependent Process.” International Migration Review 38, no. 3 (2004): 913–944. Fanning, Bryan, and Fidele Mutwarasibo. “Nationals/Non-Nationals: Immigration, Citizenship and Politics in the Republic of Ireland.” Ethnic and Racial Studies 30, no. 3 (2007): 439 –460. Favell, Adrian. Philosophies of Integration: Immigration and the Idea of Citizenship in France and Britain. New York: Palgrave, 2001. Feldblum , Miriam. Reconstructing Citizenship: The Politics of Nationality Reform and Immigration in Contemporary France. Albany: State University of New York Press , 1999. Fetzer, Joel S. Public Attitudes toward Immigration in the United States, France, and Germany. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000. Fieldhouse, D. K. The Colonial Empires: A Comparative Survey from the Eighteenth Century. New York: Delacorte Press, 1967. Fischer, Michael H. Indirect Rule in India: Residents and the Residency System, 1764–1858. Delhi: Oxford University Press, 1991. Foblets, Marie-Claire, and Sander Loones. “Belgium.” In Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, Volume 2, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Eva Ersbøll, Kees Groenendijk, and Harald Waldrauch (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2006), pp. 63–104. Freeman, Gary P. “Migration Policy and Politics in the Receiving States.” International Migration Review 26, no. 4 (1992): 1144–1167. “Modes of Immigration Politics in Liberal Democratic States.” International Migration Review 29, no. 4 (1995): 881–913. Fuentes, Francisco Javier Moreno. “Migration and Spanish Nationality Law.” In Towards a European Nationality: Citizenship, Immigration and Nationality Law in the EU, edited by Patrick Weil and Randall Hansen (London: Palgrave, 2001), pp. 118–142.

224

References

Gagnon, Alain-G., and James Tully, eds. Multinational Democracies. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001. Garbaye, Romain. Getting into Local Power: The Politics of Ethnic Minorities in British and French Cities. Malden, Mass.: Blackwell, 2005. Gaube, Ales. “Slovenia Halts Controversial Referenda.” Transitions Online, March 8, 2004. Geddes, Andrew. The Politics of Migration and Immigration in Europe. London: Sage Publications, 2003. Gellner, Ernest. Nations and Nationalism. Oxford: Blackwell, 1983. George, Alexander L., and Andrew Bennett. Case Studies and Theory Development in the Social Sciences. Cambridge: MIT Press, 2005. Givens, Terri, and Adam Luedtke. “The Politics of European Union Immigration Policy: Institutions, Salience, and Harmonization.” Policy Studies Journal 32, no. 1 (2004): 145–165. “European Immigration Policies in Comparative Perspective: Issue Salience, Partisanship and Immigrant Rights.” Comparative European Politics 3, no. 1 (2005): 1–22. Goodman, Sara Wallace. “Integration Requirements for Integration’s Sake? Identifying, Categorizing, and Comparing Civic Integration Policies.” Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies 36, no. 4 (2010). Górny, Agata. “Same Letter, New Spirit: Nationality Regulations and Their Implementation in Poland.” In Citizenship Policies in the New Europe, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Bernhard Perchinig, and Wiebke Sievers (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2007), pp. 113–134. Gosewinkel, Dieter. Einbürgern und Ausschließen: Die Nationalisierung der Staatsangehörigkeit vom Deutschen Bund bis zur Bundesrepublik Deutschland. Goettingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2001. “Citizenship and Naturalization Politics in Germany in the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries.” In Challenging Ethnic Citizenship: German and Israeli Perspectives on Immigration, edited by Daniel Levy and Yfaat Weiss (New York: Berghahn Books, 2002), pp. 59–75. Green, Simon. “Beyond Ethnoculturalism? German Citizenship in the New Millennium.” German Politics 9, no. 3 (2000): 105–124. “Citizenship Policy in Germany: The Case of Ethnicity over Residence.” In Towards a European Nationality: Citizenship, Immigration, and Nationality Law in the EU, edited by Randall Hansen and Patrick Weil (New York: Palgrave, 2001), esp. pp. 24–51. The Politics of Exclusion: Institutions and Immigration Policy in Contemporary Germany. Manchester: Manchester University Press , 2004. “Between Ideology and Pragmatism: The Politics of Dual Nationality in Germany.” International Migration Review 39, no. 4 (2005): 921–952. “Divergent Traditions, Converging Responses: Immigration and Integration Policy in the UK and Germany.” German Politics 16, no. 1 (2007): 95–115. Greenfeld, Leah. Nationalism: Five Roads to Modernity. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1992. Groenendijk, Kees, and Eric Heijs. “Immigration, Immigrants and Nationality Law in the Netherlands, 1945–98.” In Towards a European Nationality: Citizenship,

References

225

Immigration and Nationality Law in the EU, edited by Randall Hansen and Patrick Weil (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2001), pp. 143–172. Gustafson, Per. “Globalisation, Multiculturalism and Individualism: the Swedish Debate on Dual Citizenship.” Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies 28, no. 3 (2002): 463–481. Habermas, Jürgen. “On the Relation Between the Nation, the Rule of Law and Democracy.” In The Inclusion of the Other, edited by Ciaran Cronin and Pablo DeGreiff (Cambridge: MIT Press, 1998), pp. 129–154. Hailbronner, Kay. “Germany.” In Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, Volume 2, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Eva Ersbøll, Kees Groenendijk and Harald Waldrauch (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2006), pp. 213–252. Halfmann, Jost. “Immigration and Citizenship in Germany: Contemporary Dilemmas.” Political Studies 45, no. 2 (1997): 260 –274. Hammar, Tomas. Democracy and the Nation State: Aliens, Denizens and Citizens in a World of International Migration. Aldershot: Avebury, 1990. Hampshire, James. Citizenship and Belonging: Immigration and the Politics of Demographic Governance in Postwar Britain. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005. Hanagan, Michael, and Charles Tilly, eds. Extending Citizenship, Reconfiguring States. Lanham, Md: Rowman & Littlefield, 1999. Handoll, John. “Ireland.” In Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, Volume 2, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Eva Ersbøll, Kees Groenendijk, and Harald Waldrauch (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2006), pp. 289–328. Hansen, Randall. “A European Citizenship or a Europe of Citizens? Third Country Nationals in the EU.” Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies 24, no. 4 (1998): 751–768. Citizenship and Immigration in Post-War Britain: The Institutional Origins of a Multicultural Nation. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000. Hansen, Randall, and Jobst Koehler. “Issue Defi nition, Political Discourse and the Politics of Nationality Reform in France and Germany.” European Journal of Political Research 44, no. 5 (2005): 623–644. Hansen, Randall, and Patrick Weil. “Introduction: Citizenship, Immigration and Nationality: Towards a Convergence in Europe?.” In Towards a European Nationality: Citizenship, Immigration, and Nationality Law in the EU, edited by Randall Hansen and Patrick Weil (New York: Palgrave, 2001), pp. 1–23. Hansen, Randall, and Patrick Weil, eds. Towards a European Nationality: Citizenship, Immigration, and Nationality Law in the EU. New York: Palgrave, 2001. eds. Dual Nationality, Social Rights, and Federal Citizenship in the US and Europe: The Reinvention of Citizenship. New York: Berghahn Books, 2002. Hartmann-Hirsch, Claudia. “Les immigrés hautement qualifiés: le cas du Luxembourg.” Migration & Société 20, nos. 117–118 (2008): 25–46. Heilprin, Angelo, and Louis Heilprin, eds. Lippincott ’s New Gazetteer. Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott, 1906. Herbert, Ulrich. Geschichte der Ausländerpolitik in Deutschland. Munich: Verlag C. H. Beck, 2001. Herbst, Jeffrey. States and Power in Africa. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2000.

226

References

Hobsbawm, E. J. Industry and Empire: The Making of Modern English Society, 1750 to the Present Day. New York: Pantheon Books, 1968. Howard, Marc. “An East German Ethnicity? Understanding the New Division of Unified Germany.” German Politics and Society 13, no. 4 (1995): 49 –70. Howard, Marc Morjé. “Can Populism Be Suppressed in a Democracy? Austria, Germany, and the European Union.” East European Politics and Societies 15, no. 1 (2001): 18–32. The Weakness of Civil Society in Post-Communist Europe. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2003. “Variation in Dual Citizenship Policies in the Countries of the EU.” International Migration Review 39, no. 3 (2005): 697–720. “Comparative Citizenship: An Agenda for Cross-National Research.” Perspectives on Politics 4, no. 3 (2006): 443–455. Howard, Marc Morjé, and Leah Gilbert. “A Cross-National Comparison of the Internal Effects of Participation in Voluntary Organizations.” Political Studies 56, no. 1 (2008): 12 –32. Ieda, Osamu, ed. Beyond Sovereignty: From Status Law to Transnational Citizenship? Sapporo: Slavic Research Center, Hokkaido University, 2006. Iordachi, Constantin. “Politics of Citizenship in Post-Communist Romania: Legal Regimes, Restitution of Nationality and Multiple Memberships.” In Citizenship Policies in the New Europe, expanded and revised edition, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Bernhard Perchinig, and Wiebke Sievers (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2009). Ipperciel, Donald. “Constitutional Democracy and Civic Nationalism.” Nations and Nationalism 13, no. 3 (2007): 395–416. Jacobs, Dirk, and Andrea Rea. “The End of National Models? Integration Courses and Citizenship Trajectories in Europe.” Paper presented at the European Union Studies Association, Montréal, May 17–19, 2007. Jacobs, Francis G. “Citizenship of the European Union: A Legal Analysis.” European Law Journal 13, no. 5 (2007): 591–610. Jacobson, David. Rights across Borders: Immigration and the Decline of Citizenship. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1996. Jacoby, Wade. The Enlargement of the European Union and NATO: Ordering from the Menu in Central Europe. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2006. Järve, Priit. “Estonian Citizenship: Between Ethnic Preferences and Democratic Obligations.” In Citizenship Policies in the New Europe, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Bernhard Perchinig, and Wiebke Sievers (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2007), pp. 43–62. Joppke, Christian. “Why Liberal States Accept Unwanted Immigration.” World Politics 50, no. 2 (1998): 266 –293. “How Immigration Is Changing Citizenship: A Comparative View.” Ethnic and Racial Studies 22, no. 4 (1999): 629 –652. Immigration and the Nation-State: The United States, Germany, and Great Britain. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999. “Citizenship between De- and Re-Ethnicization.” European Journal of Sociology 44, no. 3 (2003): 429 –458.

References

227

Selecting by Origin: Ethnic Migration in the Liberal State. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2005. “Beyond National Models: Civic Integration Policies for Immigrants in Western Europe.” West European Politics 30, no. 1 (2007): 1–22. “Transformation of Citizenship: Status, Rights, Identity.” Citizenship Studies 11, no. 1 (2007): 37–48. “Comparative Citizenship: A Restrictive Turn in Europe?” Journal of Law & Ethics of Human Rights 2, no. 1 (2008): 1–41. Kant, Immanuel. The Metaphysics of Morals, translated by M. Gregor. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996 [1797]. Karatani, Rieko. Defi ning British Citizenship: Empire, Commonwealth, and Modern Britain. London: Frank Cass, 2003. Koenig-Archibugi, Mathias. “National and European Citizenship: The Italian Case in Historical Perspective.” Citizenship Studies 7, no. 1 (2003): 85–109. Koopmans, Ruud. “Germany and Its Immigrants: An Ambivalent Relationship.” Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies 25, no. 4 (1999): 627–647. Koopmans, Ruud, Paul Statham, Marco Giugni, and Florence Passy. Contested Citizenship: Immigration and Cultural Diversity in Europe. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2005. Koslowski, Rey. Migrants and Citizens: Demographic Change in the European State System. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2000. Kovács, Mária M. “The Politics of Dual Citizenship in Hungary.” Citizenship Studies 10, no. 4 (2006): 431–451. Kovács, Mária M., and Judit Tóth. “Hungary: Kin-State Responsibility and Ethnic Citizenship.” In Citizenship Policies in the New Europe, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Bernhard Perchinig, and Wiebke Sievers (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2007), pp. 135–162. Kruˉma, Kristıˉne. “Lithuanian Nationality: Trump Card to Independence and Its Current Challenges.” In Citizenship Policies in the New Europe, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Bernhard Perchinig, and Wiebke Sievers (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2007), pp. 89–112. “Checks and Balances in Latvian Nationality Policies: National Agendas and International Frameworks.” In Citizenship Policies in the New Europe, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Bernhard Perchinig, and Wiebke Sievers (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2007), pp. 63–88. Kurthen, Hermann, and Michael Minkenberg. “Germany in Transition: Immigration, Racism and the Extreme Right.” Nations and Nationalism 1, no. 2 (1995): 175–196. Kusá, Dagmar. “The Slovak Question and the Slovak Answer: Citizenship during the Quest for National Self-Determination and After.” In Citizenship Policies in the New Europe, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Bernhard Perchinig, and Wiebke Sievers (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2007), pp. 185–212. Kymlicka, Will. “Multicultural Odysseys.” Ethnopolitics 6, no. 4 (2007): 585–597. Kymlicka, Will, and Wayne Norman, eds. Citizenship in Diverse Societies. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000. Lagarde, Paul. La nationalité française, 3rd ed. Paris: Dalloz , 1997.

228

References

Lahav, Gallya. Immigration and Politics in the New Europe: Reinventing Borders. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2004. Lardeyret, Guy. “The Problem with PR.” Journal of Democracy 2, no. 3 (1991): 30 –35. Lefebvre, Edwige Liliane. “Belgian Citizenship: Managing Linguistic, Regional, and Economic Demands.” Citizenship Studies 7, no. 1 (2003): 111–134. “Republicanism and Universalism: Factors of Inclusion and Exclusion in the French Concept of Citizenship.” Citizenship Studies 7, no. 1 (2003): 15–36. Levey, Geoffrey Brahm. “Liberal Nationalism and Cultural Rights.” Political Studies 49, no. 4 (2001): 670 –691. Lieberman, Evan S. Race and Regionalism in the Politics of Taxation in Brazil and South Africa. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2003. Liebich, Andre. “Plural Citizenship in Post-Communist States.” International Journal of Refugee Law 12, no. 1 (2000): 97–107. “Introduction: Altneuländer or the Vicissitudes of Citizenship in the New EU States.” In Citizenship Policies in the New Europe, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Bernhard Perchinig, and Wiebke Sievers (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2007), pp. 17–42. Lijphart, Arend. The Politics of Accommodation: Pluralism and Democracy in the Netherlands. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1975. Lorcin, Patricia M. E. Imperial Identities: Stereotyping, Prejudice, and Race in Colonial Algeria. London: I. B. Tauris, 1995. Lubbers, Marcel, Mérove Gijsberts, and Peer Scheepers. “Extreme Right-Wing Voting in Western Europe.” European Journal of Political Research 41, no. 3 (2002): 345–378. Ludvig, Alice. “Why Should Austria Be Different from Germany? The Two Recent Nationality Reforms in Contrast.” German Politics 13, no. 3 (2004): 499 –515. Maas, Willem. Creating European Citizens. Lanham, Md.: Rowman & Litlefield, 2007. Maddison, Angus. Monitoring the World Economy, 1820–1992. Paris: Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development, 1995. Mann, Michael. “‘Torchbearers upon the Path of Progress’: Britain’s Ideology of a ‘Moral and Material Progress’ in India.” In Colonialism as Civilizing Mission: Cultural Ideology in British India, edited by Harold Fischer-Tiné and Michael Mann (London: Wimbledon, 2006), pp. 1–28. Marshall, T. H. Citizenship and Social Class. London: Cambridge University Press, 1950. Martin, Philip. “There Is Nothing More Permanent Than Temporary Foreign Workers.” Washington, D.C.: Center for Immigration Studies, 2001. Martin, Philip L. “Germany: Reluctant Land of Immigration.” American Institute for Contemporary German Studies, German Issues Series, no. 21 (1998): iv–61. Martiniello, Marco. “Belgium’s Immigration Policy.” International Migration Review 37, no. 1 (2003): 225–232. Massey, Douglas. “International Migration at the Dawn of the Twenty-First Century: The Role of the State.” Population and Development Review 25, no. 2 (1999): 303–322.

References

229

Medved, Felicita. “From Civic to Ethnic Community? The Evolution of Slovenian Citizenship.” In Citizenship Policies in the New Europe, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Bernhard Perchinig, and Wiebke Sievers (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2007), pp. 213–244. Messina, Anthony M. The Logics and Politics of Post-WWII Migration to Western Europe. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007. Migration Policy Group and British Council. “Migrant Integration Policy Index.” Available at http://www.integrationindex.eu. Accessed May 24, 2009. Miller, David. Citizenship and National Identity. Cambridge, U.K.: Polity Press, 2000. Minkenberg, Michael. “The Radical Right in Public Office: Agenda-Setting and Policy Effects.” West European Politics 24, no. 4 (2001): 1–21. Money, Jeannette. Fences and Neighbors: The Political Geography of Immigration Control. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1999. Morag, Nadav. “Cyprus and the Clash of Greek and Turkish Nationalisms.” Nationalism and Ethnic Politics 10, no. 4 (2004): 595–624. Moyse, François, Pierre Brasseur, and Denis Scuto. “Luxembourg.” In Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, Volume 2, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Eva Ersbøll, Kees Groenendijk, and Harald Waldrauch (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2006), pp. 367–390. Mrak, Mojmir, Matija Rojec, and Carlos Silva-Jauregui, eds. Slovenia: From Yugoslavia to the European Union. Washington, D.C.: World Bank Publications, 2004. Mullally, Siobhán. “Children, Citizenship and Constitutional Change.” In Immigration and Social Change in the Republic of Ireland, edited by Bryan Fanning (Manchester: Manchester University Press , 2007), pp. 27–46. Münz , Rainer, and Ralf Ulrich. “Germany and Its Immigrants: A SocioDemographic Analysis.” Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies 24, no. 1 (1998): 25–56. Murray, Laura. “Einwanderungsland Bundesrepublik Deutschland? Explaining the Evolving Positions of German Political Parties on Citizenship Policy.” German Politics and Society 33 (1994): 23–56. Nascimbene, Bruno, ed. Nationality Laws in the European Union. Milan, Italy: Giuffrè Editore, 1996. Odmalm, Pontus. “One Size Fits All? European Citizenship, National Citizenship Policies and Integration Requirements.” Representation 43, no. 1 (2007): 19 –34. O’Mahony, Jane. “The Irish Referendum Experience.” Representation 35, no. 4 (1998): 225–236. Parry, Clive. Nationality and Citizenship Laws of The Commonwealth and of The Republic of Ireland. London: Stevens and Sons Limited, 1957. Pastore, Ferruccio. “Nationality Law and International Migration: The Italian Case.” In Towards a European Nationality: Citizenship, Immigration and Nationality Law in the EU, edited by Patrick Weil and Randall Hansen (London: Palgrave, 2001), pp. 95–117. Paul, Kathleen. Whitewashing Britain: Race and Citizenship in the Postwar Era. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1997.

230

References

Perlmutter, Ted. “Political Parties and Interest Groups in Italy, 1990–1994.” Paper presented at the conference “Explaining Changes in Migration Policy: Debates from Different Perspectives,” University of Geneva, October 27–28, 2000. Pitts, Jennifer. Turn to Empire: The Rise of Imperial Liberalism in Britain and France. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2005. Pytel, Eric, and Kristana Roper. “The Impact of Immigration on Danish Politics: The Rise of Populism and the Fall of Social Democracy.” Critique (Spring 2002). Qvortrup, Mads. “The Emperor’s New Clothes: The Danish General Election 20 November 2001.” West European Politics 5, no. 2 (2002): 205–211. Rozakis, Christos L. “Nationality Law in Greece.” In Towards a European Nationality: Citizenship, Immigration and Nationality Law in the EU, edited by Patrick Weil and Randall Hansen (London: Palgrave, 2001), pp. 173–192. Rubio-Marín, Ruth. Immigration as a Democratic Challenge: Citizenship and Inclusion in Germany and the United States. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000. “Spain.” In Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, Volume 2, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Eva Ersbøll, Kees Groenendijk, and Harald Waldrauch (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2006), pp. 477–516. Ruhs, Martin. “Ireland: A Crash Course in Immigration Policy.” In Migration Information Source, available at http://www.migrationinformation.org/Profiles/ display.cfm?ID=260. Accessed May 24, 2009. Rydgren, Jens. “Radical Right Populism in Sweden: Still a Failure, but for How Long?” Scandinavian Political Studies 25, no. 1 (2002): 27–56. Sahlins, Peter. Unnaturally French: Foreign Citizens in the Old Regime and After. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 2004. Sassen, Saskia. Losing Control? Sovereignty in an Age of Globalization. New York: Columbia University Press, 1996. “The De Facto Transnationalizing of Immigration Policy.” In Challenge to the Nation-State: Immigration in Western Europe and the United States, edited by Christian Joppke (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998), pp. 49–85. Schain, Martin A. “The National Front in France and the Construction of Political Legitimacy.” West European Politics 10, no. 2 (1987): 229 –252. “The Extreme-Right and Immigration Policy-Making: Measuring Direct and Indirect Effects.” West European Politics 29, no. 2 (2006): 270 –289. The Politics of Immigration in France, Britain, and the United States. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008. Scuto, Denis. “Qu’est-ce qu’un Luxembourgeois? Histoire de la nationalité luxembourgeoise du Code Napoléon à nos jours.” Hémecht, Revue d’histoire luxembourgeoise 58, no. 2 (2006): 73–96. Shevel, Oxana. “The Politics of Citizenship Policy in New States.” Comparative Politics 41, no. 3 (2009). Sides, John, and Jack Citrin. “European Opinion about Immigration: The Role of Identities, Interests and Information.” British Journal of Political Science 37, no. 3 (2007): 477–504. Siebert, Horst. “Germany: An Immigration Country.” Kiel: Kiel Institute for World Economics, 2003.

References

231

Smilov, Daniel, and Elena Jileva. “The Politics of Bulgarian Citizenship: National Identity, Democracy, and Mundane Uses.” In Citizenship Policies in the New Europe, expanded and revised edition, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Bernhard Perchinig, and Wiebke Sievers (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2009). Smith, Anthony D. Nationalism and Modernism. London: Routledge, 1998. Sniderman, Paul M., and Louk Hagendoorn. When Ways of Life Collide: Multiculturalism and Its Discontents in the Netherlands. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2007. Snyder, Jack L. From Voting to Violence: Democratization and Nationalist Conflict. New York: Norton, 2000. Soysal, Yasemin Nuhoglu. Limits of Citizenship: Migrants and Postnational Membership in Europe. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994. Stewart, Michael. “The Hungarian Status Law: A New European Form of Transnational Politics?” Diaspora 12, no. 1 (2003): 67–102. Svåsand, Lars. “Scandinavian Right-Wing Radicalism.” In The New Politics of the Right: Neo-Populist Parties and Movements in Established Democracies, edited by Hans-Georg Betz and Stefan Immerfall (New York: St. Martin’s, 1998), pp. 77–94. Symmons, Clive R. “Irish Nationality Law.” In Towards a European Nationality: Citizenship, Immigration, and Nationality Law in the EU, edited by Randall Hansen and Patrick Weil (New York: Palgrave, 2001), pp. 273–312. Tamir, Yael. Liberal Nationalism: Studies in Moral, Political, and Legal Philosophy. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1993. Tanner, Arno. “Finland’s Prosperity Brings New Migrants.” Washington, D.C.: Migration Policy Institute (2004), available at http://www.migrationinformation. com/Profi les/display.cfm?ID=267. Accessed May 24, 2009. Thomas, Elaine R. “Immigration and Changing Defi nitions of National Citizenship in France, Germany, and Britain.” French Politics 4, no. 3 (2006): 237–265. Tilly, Charles. The Formation of National States in Western Europe. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1975. Torpey, John. The Invention of the Passport: Surveillance, Citizenship and the State. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000. Townsend, Mary Evelyn. European Colonial Expansion since 1871. Chicago: J. B. Lippincott, 1941. Trimikliniotis, Nicos. “Nationality and Citizenship in Cyprus since 1945: Communal Citizenship, Gendered Nationality and the Adventures of a PostColonial Subject in a Divided Country.” In Citizenship Policies in the New Europe, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Bernhard Perchinig, and Wiebke Sievers (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2007), pp. 263–292. van den Bedem, Ruud. “Towards a System of Plural Nationality in the Netherlands. Changes in Regulations and Perceptions.” In From Aliens to Citizens: Redefi ning the Status of Immigrants in Europe, edited by Rainer Bauböck (Aldershot: Avebury, 1994), pp. 95–110. van der Laarse, Robert. “Bearing the Stamp of History: The Elitist Route to Democracy in the Netherlands.” In European Democratization Since 1800, edited by John Garrard, Vera Tolz , and Ralph White (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2000), pp. 50–76.

232

References

van Oers, Ricky, Betty de Hart, and Kees Groenendijk. “The Netherlands.” In Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, Volume 2, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Eva Ersbøll, Kees Groenendijk, and Harald Waldrauch (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2006), pp. 391–434. Vermeulen, Hans, and Rinus Penninx, eds. Immigrant Integration: The Dutch Case. Amsterdam: Het Spinhuis, 2000. Vink, Maarten. Limits of European Citizenship: European Integration and Domestic Immigration Policies. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005. Vink, Maarten P. “The Limited Europeanization of Domestic Citizenship Policy: Evidence from the Netherlands.” Journal of Common Market Studies 39, no. 5 (2001): 875–896. von Weizsäcker, Richard. “Wer ist der Fremde?” Die Zeit 11 (1995): 16. Waldrauch, Harald. “Acquisition of Nationality.” In Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, Volume 1, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Eva Ersbøll, Kees Groenendijk, and Harald Waldrauch (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2006), pp. 121–182. Weil, Patrick. Rapport au premier ministre sur les législations de la nationalité et de l’immigration. Paris: La Documentation française, 1997. “Access to Citizenship: A Comparison of Twenty-Five Nationality Laws.” In Citizenship Today: Global Perspectives and Practices, edited by T. Alexander Aleinikoff and Douglas Klusmeyer (Washington, D.C.: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, 2001), pp. 17–35. Qu’est-ce qu’un français? Histoire de la nationalité française depuis la Révolution. Paris: Grasset, 2002. Weil, Patrick, and Alexis Spire. “France.” In Acquisition and Loss of Nationality, Volume 2, edited by Rainer Bauböck, Eva Ersbøll, Kees Groenendijk, and Harald Waldrauch (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2006), pp. 187–212. Westin, Charles. “Young People of Migrant Origin in Sweden.” International Migration Review 37, no. 4 (2003): 987–1010. Widfeldt, Anders. “Scandinavia: Mixed Success for the Populist Right.” Parliamentary Affairs 53, no. 3 (2000): 486 –500. “The Diversified Approach: Swedish Responses to the Extreme Right.” In Western Democracies and the New Extreme Right Challenge, edited by Roger Eatwell and Cas Mudde (New York: Routledge, 2004), pp. 150–171. Wüst, Andreas. “Naturalised Citizens as Voters: Behavior and Impact.” German Politics 13, no. 2 (2004): 341–359. Zorn, Jelka. “Ethnic Citizenship in the Slovenian State.” Citizenship Studies 9, no. 2 (2005): 135–152. Zúquete, José Pedro. “Portugal: A New Look at the Extreme Right.” Representation 43, no. 3 (2007): 179 –198. Interviews Altmaier, Peter, Member of Bundestag (CDU), Berlin, October 2004. Barthel, Eckhardt, Member of Bundestag (SPD), Berlin, October 2004. Kolat, Kenan, Director of the Turkish Community of Germany, Berlin, October 2004.

References

233

Lehnguth, Gerold, Ministry of Interior, Berlin, October 2004. Mitko, Bernhard, from the office of Michael Glos, Member of Bundestag (CSU), Berlin, October 2004. Röttgen, Norbert, Member of Bundestag (CDU), Berlin, October 2004. Sonntag-Wolgast, Cornelie, Member of Bundestag (SPD), Berlin, October 2004. Stadler, Max, Member of Bundestag (FDP), Berlin, October 2004. Tabbara, Tarik, Beauftragte der Bundesregierung für Ausländerfragen, October 2004. Government Documents Beauftragte der Bundesregierung f ür Ausländerfragen (Germany). “Daten Und Fakten Zur Ausländersituation” (2002). Bundesamt für Migration und Flüchtlinge (Germany). “Integration” (Nürnberg, 2005). Council of Europe. “European Convention on Nationality.” http://conventions.coe. int/Treaty/en/Treaties/Html/166.htm. Accessed May 24, 2009. European Commission. “Proposal for a Joint Report by the Commission and the Council on Adequate and Sustainable Pensions” (2002). European Commission against Racism and Intolerance. “Third Report on Greece,” adopted on December 5, 2003. http://www.coe.int. Accessed May 24, 2009. European Commission against Racism and Intolerance. Third Report on Cyprus. Strasbourg: Council of Europe, 2006. http://www.coe.int. Accessed May 24, 2009. Home Office, Border and Immigration Agency (U.K.). “The Path to Citizenship: Next Steps in Reforming the Immigration System” (February 2008). Ministry of Justice (U.K.). “Citizenship: Our Common Bond” (March 2008). OECD. “Sopemi: Trends in International Migration, Annual Report 1994.” Paris: OECD, 1995. Newspaper Articles “A League of Their Own.” Economist, July 21, 1990. Bilefsky, Dan. “Bickering Belgians Find a Point of Unity in Toughening Borders.” New York Times, October 10, 2007. Birnbaum, Robert. “Schäuble: Doppelte Staatsbürgerschaft Ist Gift für Die Integration.” Der Tagesspiegel, January 4, 1999. Bohlen, Celestine. “Italy Rebuked by Vatican over Migrants.” New York Times, November 20, 1995, p. A7. “Commission Asks Court of Justice to Fine Luxembourg.” European Union Press Releases, December 2, 1998. “Commission Takes Action against Belgium, Luxembourg, and Spain.” European Union Press Releases, October 12, 1998. “Court Says Luxembourg Cannot Exclude Non-national Teachers.” Reuters, July 2, 1996. “Danish Integration Law to Be Tested in Court.” BBC, July 20, 2004. “Denmark Set to Tighten Asylum and Immigration Laws.” Deutsche Presse Agentur, January 17, 2002.

234

References

de Queiroz , Mario. “Portugal: Nationality Extended to Second and ThirdGeneration Immigrants.” Inter Press Service, February 16, 2006. Available at http://ipsnews.net/news.asp?idnews=32189. Accessed May 24, 2009. “English Essential to Open Up Citizenship ‘Pathway.’” Irish Independent, May 2, 2008. “Focus on Danish Immigration Policy Following Elections.” BBC, February 16, 2005. “Italy Proposes Legislation to Curb Immigrant Influx.” New York Times, February 16, 1997, p. 15L. Lavery, Brian. “Voters Reject Automatic Citizenship for Babies Born in Ireland.” New York Times, June 13, 2004. Lichterbeck, Philipp. “Deutschtürken: 86 Prozent für Rot-Grün.” Tagesspiegel, October 16, 2005. “Luxembourg Faces Fine for Employment Restrictions.” Xinhua News Agency, December 3, 1998. McCarthy, Clare. “Premier Stands by Tough Line on Immigration ahead of Poll.” Financial Times, February 8, 2005, p. 7. Mortished, Carl. “Belgium Grapples with Rising Mood of Separation.” Globe and Mail, September 13, 2007, p. B10. “No Room at Europe’s Inn.” Economist, December 9, 1995. Osborn, Andrew. “Danish Voters Swing to the Right.” The Guardian, November 21, 2001. Perlez , Jane. “Czechs Use Laws to Exclude Gypsies from Gaining Citizenship and Voting.” New York Times, December 27, 1995, p. A8. Povoledo, Elisabetta. “Easier Now to Become an Italian.” International Herald Tribune, August 4, 2006. “Racism in Spain.” Economist, November 21, 1992. Richards, Charles. “Muslims View Poll as Outsiders.” Independent (London), April 4, 1992. Der Standard, October 12/13, 1996, p. 27. “Turkey Says Greek Citizenship Law Is Racist.” BBC, July 12, 1995.

Index

“Accession-12”: See also individual countries citizenship policies, 13, 30, 34, 169 –175, 190–91 defi nition, 169 demographic situation , 170–71 Afghanistan, 140 Africans, 41, 42 Aleinikoff, T. Alexander, 5n11, 20n5, 23n11, 140, 197n9 Algerians, 151 Altmaier, Peter, 132–33. See also Germany, “junge Wilden” Andorra,109n62 Anil, Merih, 124, 133 anti-immigrant sentiment. See public opinion, anti-immigrant Apostolou, Andrew, 114, 117 Arena, Marta, 105, 107 Aristotle, 1, 4 Armenian immigrants, 182 Art, David,68n22 assimilation, 32, 41, 80–81, 151, 182 asylum policies, 6, 96, 125–26, 127, 144, 160, 164 asylum seekers, 96, 105, 106, 125–26, 127–28 Austria Aliens Act of 1997, 96 Austrian Citizenship Act , 98 Austrian People’s Party (ÖVP), 96n8, 97–98, 116 case study of, 95–99 citizenship policy, 2, 6, 7n14, 28–29, 30, 52, 94–99, 114–118, 127n27, 173, 183, 194 demographic situation , 65, 95–96, 115

double jus soli, 97 dual citizenship, 97–98 Freedom Party (FPÖ), 12, 86n51, 96–99, 116; see also far right parties Green Party, 97, 115 Heimatrecht, 95 jus sanguinis, 95, 98 jus soli, 21 Landesbürgerschaft, 95, 115 Liberal Party (ILF), 97, 115 Nationality Law of 1945, 95 naturalization requirements , 95, 97–98 political dynamics, 96–99, 115, 116 pressures for liberalization, 95–96 Residence Law of 1992–93, 96 role of far right , 12, 65–67, 68n22, 94, 96–99, 116, 200 Social Democratic Party (SPÖ), 96–99, 115 Austro-Hungarian Empire, 183 Baganha, Maria Ioannis , 88–89 Balkenende, Jan Peter, 87. See also Netherlands Baršová, Andrea, 183–85 Bauböck, Rainer, 18, 73n1, 174 Belgium case study, 154–56 citizenship policy, 2, 12, 28, 37, 49, 52, 148, 154–56, 165–68, 194 colonial power, 39, 41, 194 demographic situation , 165–66 double jus soli, 139, 154 dual citizenship, 154–55 early democratization, 44–45

235

236 Belgium (cont.) historical and institutional dynamics , 154, 155–56, 167 jus sanguinis, 154–55 jus soli, 154–55 naturalization requirements , 154–55, 167 political dynamics, 154, 155–56, 166 role of far right , 68, 154, 156, 166 tension between Flanders and Wallonia, see Belgium, historical and institutional dynamics; see also far right parties Bendix, Reinhard, 3 Benhabib, Seyla, 3 Bennett, Andrew, 45n36, 73, 94 Berlusconi, Silvio, 107, 108, 116. See also Italy Bernitz, Hedvig Lokrantz , 75–76, 77 Bernitz, Henrik, 75–76, 77 birth rates, 8, 81, 91 Blum, René, 80. See also Luxembourg Bossi, Umberto, 106. See also Italy Brasseur, Pierre, 81, 82 Brazil, 108n61 British Council, 33. See also Migrant Integration Policy Index (MIPEX) British Empire, 149, 157, 166, 187–88 Brubaker, Rogers, 3, 119, 121n6, 149, 150n3, 196, 198, 199 Bulgaria 1998 Law on Citizenship, 182 Bulgarian Orthodox Church, 182 citizenship policy, 177–78, 181–83; see also “Accession-12” Burke, Edmund, 40 Buruma, Ian, 85 Buttigieg, Eugene, 190n102 Campani, Giovanna, 106 Canada, 20, 34, 164n71 Cavaco Silva, Aníbal António, 90. See also Portugal Chirac, Jacques, 152–53. See also France Christopoulos, Dimitris, 111, 113, 114 Çinar, Dilek, 22n9, 32, 95–96, 97n10 citizenship and courts, 10, 54, 59–60, 124–25, 126–27, 128, 139, 164, 194, 202; see also European Court of Human Rights; European Court of Justice defi nition and conceptualization, 3–5 and democracy, 1, 3–7, 10, 43–46, 48, 49–51, 200–02

Index importance, 5–8, 205 juridical application , 3–5, 193, 195, 203–05 measurement , 19–26, 32–35 mechanism of differentiation, 40 and the nation-state, 1–2, 5–8, 196–99; see also convergence politics, 11, 52– 62, 194, 199; see also individual countries pressures for liberalization, 2, 10, 54–55, 58–61, 194; see also individual countries citizenship policies. See also individual countries alternative explanations of contemporary change, 62–67 contemporary characterization, 9, 29–31 explanations of contemporary change, 2, 10–11, 52–69, 194 explanations of historical variation, 2, 9, 37–51, 194 historical characterization, 9, 26–31 Citizenship Policy Index (CPI) change, 64–67 comparison to other indexes , 32–35 components, 20–26 contemporary patterns,27–28 description, 9, 19–20, 193–94 empirical evidence in the “Accession-12,”170–75 empirical evidence in the “EU-15,”26–31 historical patterns, 48–51 Citrin, Jack, 57, 58 civic integration requirements, 19, 23, 30, 82, 86, 92, 95, 98, 102, 103, 149, 153, 154, 155, 157, 158, 160, 161, 167, 171, 172n3, 176, 180, 212. See also naturalization requirements under individual countries civic national identity, 10, 37, 42, 45, 186. See also national identity civil liberties, 202 civil rights, 5–7, 44, 75, 125 civil society, 4, 5, 194, 203 Colley, Linda, 39–40 colonial power. See also colonialism; individual countries relationship to colonial subjects , 9–10, 37, 39–42, 50–51, 194 scale of (major or not), 9–10, 37–42, 49–51, 194 colonialism , 9–10, 13, 37–42, 48–51, 108, 194. See also colonial power

Index communism, collapse of, 122, 183–84 Congo, 42 Conklin, Alice , 41, 42 Convention on the Reduction of Cases of Multiple Nationality, 74. See also Council of Europe convergence, 30, 191, 196–99. See also citizenship, and the nation-state; harmonization Cornelius, Wayne, 58n14 Council of Europe, 74, 75, 84, 90, 96, 102, 124. See also European Convention on Nationality Croatia, 179, 185 Cyprus citizenship policy, 187–89; see also “Accession-12” Greek-Cypriots, 188–89 Turkish-Cypriots, 188–89 Czech Republic citizenship policy, 183–85; see also “Accession-12” Roma minorities, 185 “velvet divorce,”183, 184 Czechoslovakia, 183, 185 de Hart, Betty, 84n43, 140n86 “de-ethnicization,” 59, 91, 115 democracy defi nition, 43 direct, 13, 136, 195, 200–02 democratization timing, 2, 10, 13, 37, 43–46, 48, 49–51, 194 demographics trends (contemporary), 8, 53, 60, 62, 63–64, 65, 66, 194, 202, 203 trends (historical), 47, 48 denizens, 7, 45, 75n8 Denmark 1776 Infødsret Act , 79n22, 99 Aliens Act , 102 case study, 99–103 Christian People’s Party, 101 citizenship policy, 28–29, 35, 52, 74, 94, 99–103, 114–18, 194, 198 Conservative Party, 86, 116 Danish People’s Party, 12, 100–03, 116; see also far right parties Danish Progress Party, 99–100, 103, 116; see also far right parties demographic situation , 115

237 dual citizenship, 78, 99 infødsret, 99, 115 jus sanguinis, 99 jus soli, 21, 99 Liberal Party, 101, 116 naturalization requirements , 99–100, 101–02, 103 political dynamics, 100–03, 115, 116 pressures for liberalization, 102 Red-Green Alliance, 101 role of far right , 12, 65–67, 77, 94, 99–103, 116, 200 Social Democratic Party, 101, 115 Social Liberal Party, 101 Socialist People’s Party, 101 Dirks, Nicholas, 40 double jus soli, 21, 80, 81, 83–84, 89, 97, 107, 109, 139, 149–50, 152–53, 154, 208, 211. See also jus soli dual citizenship, 9 in the “Accession-12,” 173, 215 defi nition and measurement, 20, 24–26; see also individual countries distinction between emigrant dual citizenship and immigrant dual citizenship, 25 in the “EU-15,” 27, 28, 210, 213 Dummett, Ann, 157, 158–59, 160n48 Dutt, Pushan, 59n16 Easton, Steward, 39 economic factors influence on contemporary citizenship policies, 10, 53, 54, 62–63, 65–66, 202 influence on historical citizenship policies, 38, 40, 44, 47–49 Eichel, Hans, 137n68. See also Germany elites and citizenship policy. See citizenship; politics of; political dynamics under individual countries emigrants, 10, 74, 76, 77, 88, 95, 104, 109, 110, 112, 155, 172, 178, 181, 182–83, 184, 185, 188, 189, 190 emigration, 47, 84, 103, 104, 108, 161, 162 empirical baseline, 2, 9, 17, 36, 55 England, 44, 157. See also United Kingdom Equatorial Guinea, 109n62 Ersbøll, Eva, 21n7, 73n1, 103 Estonia citizenship policy, 175–77; see also “Accession-12” ethnic Russians, 170, 175–77

238 ethnic Russians in the Baltic region, 170, 175–77; see also Estonia; Latvia; Lithuania ethnocentrism, 114 “EU-15,” defi nition of, 1–2 Eurobarometer, 55 European citizenship, 196–99 European Civic Citizenship and Inclusion Index , 33 European Commission against Racism and Intolerance, 189 European Convention on Nationality, 74, 90, 96. See also Council of Europe European Court of Human Rights , 124 European Court of Justice, 82, 90, 124, 163n65 European harmonization. See convergence; harmonization European integration. See convergence; harmonization European Parliament, 96 European Social Survey (ESS), 57 Eurostat , 24, 63, 64 Evans, J.M., 159n46 Everson, Michelle, 160n47 Fagerlund, Jessica, 78–79 Faist, Thomas, 75n8, 76 Fanning, Bryan, 163n64 far right movement. See far right parties; public mobilization, anti-immigrant far right parties. See also role of far right under individual countries role of, 2, 11–13, 53, 59–62, 65–69, 194, 200–202 strength of, 11, 65–67 Fieldhouse, D. K , 41 Finland 1968 Nationality Decree, 77 2003 Nationality Act, 77–79 case study, 77–80 citizenship policy, 2, 11, 28, 29, 35, 52, 57, 73, 77–80, 90–93, 165, 194, 200 demographic situation , 65, 78, 91 dual citizenship, 30, 77–79, 91 Finland Society, 79 Finnish Expatriate Parliament, 79 jus sanguinis, 77 jus soli, 21, 30 Nationality Act of 1920, 77 naturalization requirements , 78 political dynamics, 59, 78–80, 91–92

Index pressures for liberalization, 78, 90–91 role of far right , 79, 92–93 Swedish People’s Party, 79 Foblets, Marie-Claire, 155 Fortuyn, Pim, 86. See also Netherlands France case study,149–54 citizenship policy, 7, 12, 28, 33, 35, 37, 49, 52, 124, 148, 149–54, 165–68, 194, 196 Civil Code of 1803, 150, 154 colonial power, 39, 42, 194 demographic situation, 165–66 double jus soli, 21, 80, 139, 149–50, 152–53 dual citizenship,149 early democratization, 44–45 French banlieues, 153, 204 historical and institutional dynamics, 167 jus sanguinis, 150, 151 jus soli, 21n8, 109, 149–53 la mission civilisatrice, 41–42 National Front , 86n51, 151, 153, 166; see also far right parties naturalization requirements , 149–53, 167 political dynamics, 151–54, 166 role of far right , 68, 151, 153, 166 Franco, Francisco, 110. See also Spain Freeman, Gary, 197n11 Funcke, Liselotte, 130. See also Germany GDP per capita. See economic factors George, Alexander, 45n36, 73, 94 Gerdes, Jürgen, 75n8, 76 Germany 1953 Federal Expellee Law, 122 asylum crisis, 125–26, 127 Aussiedler, 121; see also Germany, “ethnic Germans” case study, 119–47 Christian Democrats (CDU/CSU), 127n27, 128–33, 134–38, 139, 142, 144, 146 citizenship policy, 2, 7, 9, 12, 28, 29, 31, 33, 52, 57, 65, 67, 87, 119–47, 196 colonial power, 39 Commissioner for Foreigners of the federal government , 140 demographic situation in, 65, 121–26, 128 dual citizenship, 12, 25, 146–47

Index “ethnic Germans,”121–23, 126, 127, 129, 141 Federal Constitutional Court, 124, 126–27, 128 Free Democrats (FDP), 128–33, 137, 138, 139, 142 German Nationality Act of 2000, 119, 137–46 German Nationality Law of 1913, 120, 121, 123, 124, 130, 131, 141, 142, 147 German unification, 121–22, 123, 124n13, 127, 137–46 Greens, 12, 127n27, 128, 129, 131–38, 139, 142, 144, 146–47 “guest worker” programs, 125 Hesse elections of 1999, 12, 127n27, 135–37, 145 “junge Wilden,”132–33, 137, 139 jus sanguinis, 120–23, 131, 141 jus soli, 12, 21, 30, 123, 129–30, 131, 132–34, 138–41, 146 naturalization requirements , 24, 30, 68n21, 119, 129, 131, 133, 146 Nazi period and citizenship, 121, 123–24, 125, 127–28 Niederlassungsrecht, 130 “option-model” (Optionsmodell), 139–40 political dynamics, 59, 120, 128–38, 147 pressures for liberalization, 123–28 Prussian citizenship law of 1842, 120 role of courts, 124–25, 126–27, 128, 139 role of far right , 68n22, 92–93, 125, 127–28 role of public mobilization, 135–37, 147, 200 Social Democrats (SPD), 12, 127n27, 128–38, 139, 142, 144 Turkish Community of Germany, 144n95 Turkish immigrants, 25n16, 123, 125, 128n29, 140, 143–44 Übersiedler, 122; see also Germany, “ethnic Germans” Gil-Robles, Álvaro, 102n33 Giugni, Marco, 32–33, 34 Givens, Terri, 62n18, 62n20 globalization , 1–3, 10, 54, 198. See also citizenship, and the nation-state; convergence Glos, Michael, 135n62. See also Germany Goodman, Sara Wallace, 19n4 Górny, Agata, 178

239 Gosewinkel, Dieter, 150n3 Greece case study, 111–14 citizenship law of 1835, 111 citizenship policy, 28–29, 30, 52, 57, 65, 94, 111–18, 194 Civil Law of 1856, 112 Code of Nationality, 113, 114 demographic situation , 113, 115, 125 dual citizenship, 111 early democratization, 44, 50 homogenis and allogenis Greeks, 111–13, 115 jus sanguinis, 111 jus soli, 21 naturalization requirements , 24, 111–13 political dynamics, 111, 113–14, 117 pressures for liberalization, 113 role of far right , 12, 65–67, 111, 113–14, 116–17 Green, Simon, 130n38, 139, 141, 142, 144–45 Groenendijk, Kees, 73n1, 84n43, 140n86 Gustafson, Per, 76 Hagendoorn, Louk, 86n52 Haider, Jörg, 86n51, 96, 116. See also Austria Hailbronner, Kay, 126–27 Hammar, Tomas, 45 Handoll, John , 162, 163 Hansen, Randall, 26n18, 125–26, 129, 131n42, 134, 136, 152n13, 159, 197 harmonization, 1, 26, 30, 61n18, 191, 198. See also citizenship, and the nationstate; convergence Hesse, state of (Germany), 12, 135–37, 145 Hirsi Ali, Ayaan, 86. See also Netherlands Hobsbawm, E. J., 46 Hollifield, James, 58n14 human rights, 3, 6, 91, 96, 121, 125, 176, 185, 199, 202 postnational norms, 10, 54, 60, 91, 196–97 Hungary citizenship policy, 177–80, 182–83; see also “Accession-12” ethnic Hungarian diaspora, 180, 185 Hungarian “Status Law,”179, 185, 187

240 Iceland, 74, 78 immigrants and integration: see integration, general discussion of hostility to: see public opinion, anti-immigrant recently arrived, 6 Indonesia, 41, 84 integration, general discussion of, 1, 7–8, 13, 25, 32, 34, 38, 51, 95, 202, 204–05 interest group politics, 10, 54, 194 international norms. See human rights, postnational norms Iordachi, Constantin, 180 Iran, 140 Ireland 2004 referendum , 162, 164–65 asylum crisis, 164 case study, 161–65 citizenship policy, 12, 28, 37, 49n42, 52, 148, 161–68, 194, 198 demographic situation , 163–64, 165–66 dual citizenship, 161–62 Fianna Fáil, 164 Fine Gael, 164 “Good Friday” agreement , 162–64 the Green Party, 164 historical and institutional dynamics, 167; see also relationship with Northern Ireland Irish Nationality and Citizenship Act 1956, 162 Irish Nationality and Citizenship Act 2004, 164 jus sanguinis, 161, 162 jus soli, 20, 21, 68, 161–64 naturalization requirements , 24, 161–62, 165, 167 political dynamics, 163–65, 166 Progressive Democrats, 164 relationship with Northern Ireland, 162–63, 166; see also historical and institutional dynamics role of far right in , 67, 164, 166 role of public mobilization in, 67, 163–65, 166–67, 200 Sinn Fein, 164 Italy 1992 Nationality Law, 103–05 “Anti-Racist Pact,”105 Caritas, 105 case study, 103–08

Index Christian Democratic Party (DC), 106, 116 citizenship policy, 28–29, 52, 65, 94, 103–08, 114–18, 171, 194 colonial power, 39 demographic situation in, 103, 106, 115, 125 double jus soli, 107 dual citizenship, 30, 103, 104–05 Forza Italia Party, 107 “Freedom Alliance,”107, 116 Italian Social Movement (MSI), 106 jus sanguinis, 104 jus soli, 21, 104, 107 Martelli Law, 105–06 National Alliance (AN), 12, 106–08, 116; see also far right parties naturalization requirements , 24, 103, 104–05, 107 Northern League (NL), 12, 106–08, 116; see also far right parties political dynamics, 105–08, 115, 116 pressures for liberalization, 105 role of “ethnic Italians,”103–05, 115 role of far right, 12, 65, 94, 106–08, 116, 200 the Vatican, 105 Jacobson, David, 196–97 Järve, Priit , 176–77 Jewish minority in Europe , 44, 45, 109n62, 121, 180 Jileva, Elena, 181–82 Joppke, Christian, 10n21, 30n23, 42, 59, 76, 91, 108n61, 115, 197n11, 199, 203n20 Jospin, Lionel, 152. See also France judicial system. See citizenship, and courts jus sanguinis, defi nition and measurement of, 20. See also individual countries jus soli, 9 in the “Accession-12,” 173, 214 defi nition and measurement of, 20–22, 26; see also individual countries in the “EU-15,” 27, 28, 208, 211 Kant, Immanuel, 4n7 Klusmeyer, Douglas, 140 Koch, Roland, 136. See also Germany Koehler, Jobst , 125–26, 129, 134, 136 Kohl, Helmut, 130. See also Germany Kolat, Kenan, 144n95. See also Germany Koopmans, Ruud, 32–33, 34 Kovács, Mária, 179–80 Kruma, ˉ Kristıˉ ne, 175–76, 177 Kusá, Dagmar, 185

Index language tests. See civic integration requirements Latin America, 108, 109n62 Latvia citizenship policy, 175–77; see also “Accession-12” ethnic Russians, 170, 175–77 Le Pen, Jean-Marie, 86n51, 151. See also France Lefebvre, Edwige Liliane, 41n16 liberalism, 28n21, 43–45 liberalization, pressures for. See citizenship, pressures for liberalization Liebich, Andre, 174, 186, 187 Lisbon Treaty, 166, 201 Lithuania citizenship policy, 175–77; see also “Accession-12” ethnic Russians, 175–77 Long-Term Residency (EC) Card, 7n16 Loones, Sander, 155 Ludvig, Alice, 127n27 Luedtke, Adam, 62n18, 62n20 Luxembourg Action Committee for Democracy and Pension Justice (ADR/CADJS), 82 case study, 80–83 citizenship policy, 11, 28, 29, 35, 52, 57, 65, 73, 80–83, 90–93, 194, 200 demographic situation , 65, 80, 91 double jus soli, 80 dual citizenship, 30, 82, 91 jus sanguinis, 80, 81 jus soli, 21, 30 Nationality Act of 2001, 81 naturalization requirements , 11, 24, 81–82, 105 political dynamics, 59, 81–83, 91–92 pressures for liberalization, 82, 90–91 role of far right , 82, 92–93 Malta citizenship policy, 187, 190; see also “Accession-12” Department for Citizenship and Expatriate Affairs , 190 Mann, Michael, 40n13 Marques, Rui, 90. See also Portugal Marshall, T. H., 5–6, 44 Martin, Philip, 58n14, 144n94 Martiniello, Marco, 154, 156 Massey, Douglas, 58

241 Medved, Felicita, 186–87 Messina, Anthony, 52n2 Migrant Integration Policy Index (MIPEX), 33–35 Migration Policy Group, 33. See also Migrant Integration Policy Index Mill, J. S., 40 Mitko, Bernhard, 135n62. See also Germany Mitra, Devashish, 59n16 Mitterrand, François, 151n10, 152. See also France mobilization. See public mobilization Moldova, 181 Money, Jeannette, 55n8 Moyse, François, 81, 82 Murray, Laura, 129, 130–31, 135 Muslim minority in Europe, 106n50, 113 Mutwarasibo, Fidele, 163n64 Nascimbene, Bruno, 105, 107 NATAC (Acquisition and Loss of Nationality), 18–19, 32, 73n1, 170 NATAC (Citizenship Policies in the New Europe), 169–70, 172n3, 172n5, 173–74 national citizenship. See citizenship, and the nation-state national identity, 199 civic conceptions: see civic national identity ethnic conceptions, 10, 141, 174, 191; see also case study under individual countries nation-state. See citizenship, and the nation-state naturalization rates, 23, 24, 25, 33, 172, 209–10, 212–13, 217. See also naturalization requirements under individual countries naturalization requirements , 9 in the “Accession-12,” 173, 214 defi nition and measurement , 20, 22–24, 26; see also individual countries in the “EU-15,” 27, 28, 209, 212 Nazi Germany, 80, 178, 180, 181. See also Germany, Nazi period and citizenship Netherlands, the case study, 83–87 Christian Democrats, 85, 86, 87 citizenship policy, 11, 28, 29, 33, 35, 49–50, 52, 73, 83–87, 90–93, 194 colonial power, 39, 41 Conservative Liberals, 85 demographic situation , 86, 91 double jus soli, 21, 83–84, 139

242 Netherlands, the (cont.) dual citizenship, 11, 25, 30, 83, 84–85, 87, 91 Dutch Civil Code of 1838, 83 Dutch Nationality Act , 85 Dutch Nationality Act of 1892, 83 Dutch Nationality Act of 1984, 84 early democratization, 44–45 Green Left, 85 jus sanguinis, 84 jus soli, 83–84 naturalization requirements , 83, 84, 85, 86–87 Pim Fortuyn List, 86n51; see also far right parties political dynamics, 59, 85–87, 91–92 pressures for liberalization, 85, 90–91 Progressive Liberals, 85 role of far right , 62n19, 86–87, 92–93 Scientific Council for Government Policy (WRR), 84n40 Social democrats, 59, 85 Nigeria, 163 noncitizens. See citizenship, importance of Nordic countries, 11, 28, 74, 77, 78, 79, 80, 90, 101, 102. See also Denmark; Finland; Sweden Northern Ireland, 149, 157, 162, 163, 164, 166, 167. See also Ireland, relationship with Northern Ireland; United Kingdom Norway, 74n4, 77, 78 Pasqua, Charles, 152. See also France Passy, Florence, 32–33, 34 path dependence, 46 Paul, Kathleen, 159n42 Perchinig, Bernhard, 174 Philippines, 109n62 Poland, citizenship policy, 177–78, 182–83. See also “Accession-12” Polish immigrants, 143, 201n19 political rights, 5–7, 44–45, 75, 126–27, 130, 186, 202–03 Portugal case study, 87–90 citizenship policy, 11, 28, 29, 35, 52, 73, 87–93, 108n61, 171, 194 colonial power, 39 Communist Party, 90 Democratic and Social Center/People’s Party, 90

Index demographic situation , 65, 91, 125 double jus soli, 89 dual citizenship, 88, 91 Green Party, 90 jus sanguinis, 88 jus soli, 11, 21, 30, 88, 89 Left Bloc, 90 Nationality Act of 1959, 88 Nationality Act of 1981, 88–89 naturalization requirements, 11, 24, 87n55, 88, 89 political dynamics, 59, 89–90, 91–92 pressures for liberalization, 90–91 role of far right , 89, 92 Social Democratic Party, 89–90 Socialist Party, 90 Prague Spring, 184 Prodi, Romano, 107. See also Italy public mobilization anti-immigrant, 11–13, 61–62, 67–69, 117, 194, 195, 200–02 anti-immigrant (measurement of), 62, 65–68 outside party politics , 12, 67–68, 200–02; see also Germany, role of public mobilization; Ireland, role of public mobilization public opinion, anti-immigrant, 8, 11–13, 55–62, 64, 65–67, 117, 194, 195, 200–02 Rasmussen, Anders Fogh, 101n30, 102. See also Denmark “re-ethnicization,” 59, 76, 91, 115 residency requirement. See naturalization requirements Rieple, Beate, 75n8, 76 Roma minority in Europe, 113, 185 Romania citizenship policy in, 177–78, 180–81, 182–83; see also “Accession-12” ethnic Hungarians in, 179, 180–81 Law on Romanian Citizenship, 180 Röttgen, Norbert. 132–33. See also Germany, “junge Wilden” Rubio-Marín, Ruth, 108, 109, 110n66 Ruhs, Martin, 163n63 Russia, 176 Sarkozy, Nicolas, 153. See also France Sassen, Saskia, 197 Schain, Martin, 52n2 Schäuble, Wolfgang, 130, 132, 135–36. See also Germany

Index Schengen Agreement, 7n16 Schily, Otto, 134. See also Germany Schmidt, Helmut, 129. See also Germany Schröder, Gerhard, 133–35, 139, 141, 145, 146. See also Germany Scotland, 157. See also United Kingdom Scuto, Denis, 81, 82 “sending” countries, 25, 115. See also emigrants; emigration Serbia, 179, 185 Shevel, Oxana, 169n1 Sides, John, 57, 58 Sievers, Wiebke, 174 Slovakia: see also Czechoslovakia citizenship policy, 183–85; see also “Accession-12” Roma minorities in, 185 “velvet divorce,” 183, 184 Slovenia 1928 Yugoslav Citizenship Act , 186 citizenship policy, 183, 185–87; see also “Accession-12” Slovenians Abroad Act, 187 Smilov, Daniel, 181–82 Sniderman, Paul, 86n52 social rights, 5–7, 44, 75, 203 Sócrates, José, 89–90. See also Portugal Soviet Union, 127n27, 169n1, 174n10, 175, 178, 183 Soysal, Yasemin Nuhoglu, 54, 91, 197 Spain case study, 108–11 citizenship policy, 28–29, 35, 52, 57, 65, 94, 108–11, 114–18, 171, 194 Civil Code of 1889, 108 colonial legacy and citizenship, 88n60, 108–10, 115 colonial power, 39 demographic situation , 109, 115 double jus soli, 109, 139 dual citizenship, 25, 109, 111 jus soli, 21, 109–10, 115 naturalization requirements , 24, 109, 110 political dynamics, 110–11, 115, 117 role of far right , 12, 65–67, 110–11, 117 Socialists, 110, 115, 117 Spire, Alexis, 109n64, 150, 151–52, 153 Statham, Paul, 32–33, 34 Stoiber, Edmond, 136. See also Germany “structured, focused comparisons,” 73, 94 sub-national level, 5, 6 supra-national level, 5, 6, 205

243 Surinam, 84 Sweden 2001 Swedish Citizenship Act , 74–75 case study, 74–77 citizenship policy, 11, 28, 29, 52, 57, 73–77, 84n44, 90–93, 143, 165, 194, 200 demographic situation , 75, 78, 91 dual citizenship, 30, 74–76, 78, 91 Green Party, 76 jus soli, 21, 30, 74, 76 Moderate Party, 76 naturalization requirements , 74 political dynamics, 59, 76–77, 91–92 pressures for liberalization, 74–76 role of far right , 76–77, 92 –93 Social Democratic Labor Party, 76 Swedish Citizenship Act of 1894, 74 Switzerland, 68 Symmons, Clive, 49n42 Tanner, Arno, 79 terrorism, 12, 135, 146, 161, 195, 202 “third-country nationals,” 6–7 Tocqueville, Alexis de, 40 Tóth, Judit , 179–80 Townsend, Mary, 39, 41, 49, 50 Trimikliniotis, Nicos, 188–89 Tsuda, Takeyuki, 58n14 Turkey, 125, 143–44, 170, 188. See also Germany, Turkish immigrants Turkish immigrants, 182. See also Germany, Turkish immigrants Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus, 188. See also Cyprus Ukraine, 179, 181 unemployment. See economic factors; unemployment rates unemployment rates, 53, 63, 65, 66 United Kingdom 1962 Act , 159 1981 British Nationality Act , 159 Aliens Act of 1844, 158 British National Front (BNF), 161n51; see also far right parties British National Party (BNP), 161n51; see also far right parties British Nationality Act of 1948, 158 case study, 157–61 “Citizen of the Independent Commonwealth Countries” (CICC), 158

Index

244 United Kingdom (cont.) “Citizen of the UK-and-Colonies” (CUKC), 158 citizenship policy, 2, 5, 12, 28, 30, 33, 37, 49, 52, 68, 148, 157–61, 165–68, 194, 198 colonial power, 39, 194 Commonwealth Immigrants Act, 159 “Commonwealth of Nations,” 158 Conservative Party, 161 demographic situation , 159, 165–66 dual citizenship, 157, 160 early democratization, 44–45 historical and institutional dynamics , 167 Immigration Act of 1971, 159 jus sanguinis, 158 jus soli, 21, 68, 157–60 Labour Party, 159, 161 Nationality, Immigration and Asylum Act of 2002, 160 Naturalization Act of 1870, 158 naturalization requirements , 157–61 political dynamics, 159, 160–61, 166 relationship with colonial subjects , 41–42 role of far right , 161, 166 United States, 20, 34, 134, 164n71, 197 Urbano de Sousa, Constança, 88–89

van der Laarse, Robert , 44 van Gogh, Theo, 86. See also Netherlands van Oers, Ricky, 84n43 Vink, Maarten, 198 Vlaams Belang (Flemish Interest) Party, 156 Waldrauch, Harald, 22n9, 32, 73n1, 95–96, 97n10 Wales, 157. See also United Kingdom Weil, Patrick, 26n18, 32, 109n64, 150, 151–53, 197 welfare state , 5–8, 33, 57, 103, 139, 143, 194, 197, 203 Wendt, Christopher, 93 Werner, Pierre, 81. See also Luxembourg Widfeldt, Anders, 100n24 World War I , 41, 44, 151, 183 World War II , 44, 80, 126n22, 151, 178, 183, 202 Wüst, Andreas, 128n28, 128n29 xenophobia. See public opinion, anti-immigrant Yugoslavia, 125, 183, 185–86 Zimmermann, Friedrich, 130. See also Germany Zincone, Giovanna, 105, 107