Of citizenships and loyalties

Of citizenships and loyalties | Daily Tribune

A fictional former client of mine dropped by the office one day, a few months after taking his oath as a US citizen.

“Attorney, can I apply for dual citizenship in the Philippines?” he asked.

“Yes, Mr. Dimasapoc,” I replied. “The Philippine government allows former Filipinos to regain their Filipino citizenship.”

He asked how to apply, and I briefly explained the process, including the fees and the required documents, such as current and old Philippine passports, original birth certificates, US naturalization certificates, name change documents, etc.

“Will it affect my US citizenship?” he asked.

“No, as long as you don’t expressly renounce your US citizenship. However, there are certain things that you need to be aware of.”

I explained to him that each country has its own set of rules regarding citizenship. For example, while both Uncle Sam and the Philippines allow dual citizenship, the Philippines has a stricter policy vis-à-vis its citizens’ acquisition of foreign citizenship. In fact, the mere act of taking an oath of citizenship in another country automatically divests a Filipino citizen of his/her Philippine citizenship.

“But not so for Uncle Sam,” I clarified. “Unless an American citizen expressly renounces his/her US citizenship before a US consular officer or through a formal oath of renunciation, the mere taking of a naturalization oath in another country does not automatically extinguish a person’s US citizenship.”

To avoid a misconception, I decided to caution Mr. Dimasapoc about an important point: “By the way, if you’re a dual US/Filipino citizen and something bad happens to you in the Philippines, for example, if you’re kidnapped or if someone gives you a serious beating for being a “hilaw na Kano” or out of jealousy for your fancy man-bag, you or your relatives cannot just run to the US Embassy for assistance. Remember, you’re also a Filipino citizen, so there’s no guarantee that Uncle Sam will lift a finger to help you, or perhaps they’ll just offer token assistance because, to them, the Philippine government should be the one responsible for your safety and protection while in the country.”

“On the other hand,” I suddenly pivoted when I saw the worried crease on his face, “if you become a dual US/Filipino citizen, you will be allowed to own land in the Philippines. They will also let you practice your profession and engage in any commercial activities without restrictions. Plus, you can stay in the country indefinitely without a visa. Most of all, your voting privileges will be restored.”

“Um, thanks for all the information, Attorney. I’ll think things over and will let you know. By the way, I’ve been thinking about this, but what would happen if a war erupts between the US and the Philippines? Which country should I pledge my allegiance to?”

“Well, it’s your own decision to make,” I said, “but the US and the Philippines have a mutual defense treaty, so I don’t think that would ever happen. But if it does, then you can choose whichever side you wish to be on, but be prepared to lose your citizenship in the other. It’s also possible that either country will jail you for treason or desertion if you openly side with the other.”

Mr. Dimasapoc looked up at the ceiling as if in deep thought, then mumbled in a nervous tone: “Um, I’ll think about it first. I don’t want to get caught in the crossfire.” And he walked off the door in a hurry.

I wonder what his reaction would be if he were originally a citizen of China or Russia.