Why I said no to dual citizenship
Op-ed: I may have also been tempted to obtain a foreign citizenship if I were not troubled by the suspicion that those seeking foreign passports are preparing a lifeboat for themselves in case the Zionist project fails.
One French immigrant was quoted by Haaretz as saying that he felt as if the days of the Holocaust, when France’s Jews were turned over to the Nazis, were returning. This is either nonsense resulting from the speaker’s traumatic life experience or a perverted result of the systematic cultivation of the Jewish persecution complex. Le Pen did not single out Israel, and the law she plans to apply is no different from the law in several other countries, such as Germany, which scarcely allows for dual citizenship.
Le Pen inherited her party from her father, a Holocaust denier and an incorrigible anti-Semite, and her views are infected with populist nationalism, but I find no evidence of anti-Semitism in her statements, and I find fewer signs of fascism in them than in the declarations of some of the leaders of the Israeli Right and the bills they promote.
Moreover, I tend to identify with the emotion that generated her plan and I am at odds with myself over the proper attitude towards citizenship. I once had the chance put my feelings to the test, when one of my daughters was born in France. Back then, more than 40 years ago, almost everyone born in France received a French citizenship, but the possibility of endowing our daughter with a French citizenship did not even cross my wife’s mind or my own. Had we been asked about it at the time, we would have replied that receiving a citizenship entails a pledge of allegiance and that we are only loyal to our homeland.
This stance probably has to do with the fact that I am older than my state and don’t take its existence for granted. I have more respect for the Israeli passport than I do for the anthem or the flag, because political movements and sports clubs have an anthem and a flag as well, while a passport can only be issued by a state. Despite this notepad’s sulky bureaucratic face, I feel it is charged with a symbolic meaning that is very important to me.
Since then, the temptations of dual citizenship have multiplied. Holding a passport of one of the stronger countries, or of one of the European Union states, provides a great dealof freedom of movement, which is of course a practical advantage but also contributes to a feeling of broadness. The possibility to be mobile in the global sphere, without the delays that are piling up due to the threats of terrorism, makes things easier for businesspeople, familial ties with those living abroad and for tourists.
I may have also been tempted to obtain a foreign citizenship accompanied by a passport if I were not troubled by the suspicion that those seeking foreign passports are preparing a lifeboat for themselves in case the Zionist project fails and they are forced or prefer to get out of here. I won’t hide it: I share this fear as well. And that is precisely why I will not do a thing to arrange an escape route for myself and for my family members that will not be able to serve those who hold an Israeli citizenship only.
I just want to stress that this is an imaginary dilemma and note that reality likes to mock the pretentiousness of people with supreme principles. I may be allowing myself to make this assertion because even if I wanted to, I have no possibility of becoming a citizen in different a state. My profession, as a wordsmith, is not essential anywhere, including ithe place I live in, and the authorities of Lithuania and Ukraine will not embrace someone whose parents were born there and whose relatives were murdered there, even if he swears that he is endlessly in love with the descendants of their murderers and with their culture.
