Chit-chatting with the embassy civil servants the other day, they were practically encouraging me to take out dual nationality. “You won’t lose your American citizenship, you know.”
Yeah, I know. But taking out a new citizenship is a lot like getting married. It’s a lifetime committment and it ought to be based on love. I’ve struggled with the idea for a long time, I even have the application for British nationality mostly filled out and sitting in my “holding-tray” at work. There are two things holding me back:
1.) You have to swear loyalty to the Queen, her heirs and successors.
Well, I don’t mind the Queen, she’s seems alright. But I have my doubts about Charles, and it seems to me that you’re signing up blind. I mean, chances are, all the future monarchs that I’ll see in my lifetime are already here and on display. But maybe that’s not the case, maybe somebody I’d be swearing loyalty to hasn’t even been born yet. Talk about hostage to fortune.
Plus it seems a kind of metaphorical slap in the face of our Founding Fathers and my own ancestors who fought against British tyrany. And I am a [small r] republican. I really don’t believe in that nobility malarky. (Though if I ask myself – would you accept a peerage? I have to say too bloody right, I would – think how cool my stationery would look.)
Most of my British colleagues are surprised that I don’t already have a British passport. They seem to have a disturbing notion that that’s all citizenship is: travel documentation. Many seem to think that all you have to do is marry a Brit and hey presto, the passport arrives in the post, without the bother of even sending in four cereal box tops.
Actually, because there is a new requirement to take a test and have a swearing in ceremony at your local council, they’re starting to become more aware that becoming British is bit of a bigger deal. That’s a good thing. Of course, the New Labour citizenship quiz-masters have come up the stupidest test. First you have to read a booklet called Life in the UK, then you have to answer multiple-choice questions based on this booklet. So, for example, Life in the UK explains what to do if you spill someone’s pint in the pub.
And the test asks: What, according to the book, usually happens next?*
A) You would offer to buy the person another pint.
B) You would offer to dry their wet shirt with your own.
C) You may need to prepare for a fight in the car park.
2) My moral character
The other bit of the application that troubles me is a series of questions on my moral character. I know there’s an equivalent question on the US application which says something like “Have you ever been a Nazi?” The British one encompasses a heckuva lot more. To wit:
Have you ever been convicted of genocide or war crimes?
I gave the NO box a big tick.
Have you ever been suspected of genocide or war crimes?
Well, I can’t say for sure, because how do I know what’s in another person’s mind? I suppose there might be someone who thinks that because I eat meat, drive a car and refuse to buy FairTrade coffee I’m contributing the genocide of indigenous peoples and/or fluffy animals. But I’ve lived a life pretty well clear of the danger zone on this one. Tick that NO box.
And finally: Have you ever done anything which might bring your moral character into question?
What the heck does that mean? Umm, yeah. Does stealing street scenes or re-gifting wedding presents count? The folks at my grandfather’s Pulaski Street Church of Christ frequently questioned my moral character for dancing, drinking, smoking and my failure to believe in the doctrine of inerrancy.
I know the real answer is yes, but that it’s also the wrong answer. The box is unticked and the form collects dust yet.
______________
*OK, this seems stupid to me, but VolBro describes a hilarious incident in which he spilled the beer of a fellow patron of a Knoxville bar. He chose D) Say: Hey buddy, you’re not gonna melt and then had to shift to option C).
The Vol Abroad 