The Prince and the Pauper

I am now convinced that nationality is so fickle and so fake. While I still see merit people identifying themselves with their country, which individuals a country identifies itself with is another story.

In no way would the People’s Republic of China grant me citizenship and or nationality (two distinct concepts in United States law). For one, my parents’ parents were the ones with Chinese nationality and since those born outside China who receive a different nationality upon birth are not entitled to Chinese nationality, there was no way I could become a member of another country—or so I thought.

Dual nationality or citizenship though can be a messy thing if you don’t fully know what you’re doing. Countries like the United States levy taxes on all their citizens regardless of what country the money is earned in. Countries like Singapore have conscripted military service that can more often than not put other citizenships into danger.

If you enter one country on one passport, you may not be afforded another state’s consular services guaranteed by another passport. If you’re from certain countries, you don’t need visas to certain countries. For countries with exit customs, you cannot leave if you never entered. It’s all very artificial.

It’s great for me, though, because as an American I can easily get into most countries and since the United States has relations with most countries, it’s easy to get consular assistance if need be.

I’ve got a friend here who’s originally from China, born in Taishan, Guangdong, to Chinese parents. As such he was afforded Chinese nationality and enjoyed it even after immigrating to the United States. This last year though he decided to become an American citizen, having met all the criteria for a while but finally doing it to make it easier to apply for EAP (the same UC program that’s facilitating my study abroad).

After the tests and oaths, he became a naturalized United States citizen. As part of the oath, one renounces all other allegiances, citizenships, and nationalities prior to becoming American, which in reality is not enforced. As such, the United States, as of late, has recognized dual nationality.

My friend went after that though to the Chinese consulate in San Francisco as he was advised to in order to tell them of his new nationality. There, he was asked to present his Chinese passport. In front of him, the clerk cut off the corner of the identification data page (I’d imagine dramatically). Forwardly, his Chinese passport had just been invalidated. I believe personally that he had then effectively renounced Chinese nationality. I imagine that the clerk had also documented this in some form of a Chinese national database.

I know for Americans, you have to present your old passport when you apply for a renewal. So for though he says it’s really quite easy to get a passport in China, if it’s anything like in the United States, they verify and verify that you are qualified to receive that passport. So if it’s anything like in the United States, he’s not easily getting another Chinese passport.

My friend seemed to me to have fallen to nationality laws. I myself had also fallen to nationality laws, except in my case, they were applied to me in theory before I was even born. There was no way I could become naturalized as a Chinese national without giving up my United States citizenship—or so I thought.

I have no intentions of naturalizing myself as a Chinese national—mainly because, I  found out just a week ago that I’ve been one my whole life and just never knew it. It’s not like this was due to some secret my parents had been keeping from me until I was exactly seven thousand, eighty-five years days after birth.

And this is how it worked.  My mother was born in British Hong Kong to Chinese parents. As such, she had British National Overseas citizenship (that does not transfer to one’s offspring). Upon naturalizing herself as an American citizen well before I was born and as such well before the transfer of sovereignty over Hong Kong to China, she probably didn’t see any reason to maintain her BNO status.

When Hong Kong became part of China again, all BNOs of Chinese descent became Chinese nationals. Under terms of the one country, two systems framework, Hong Kong was permitted to keep its own immigration controls. As such, rules regarding who has the right to live and work in Hong Kong (right of abode) were established. It fits in with Chinese nationality as such:

The first clause states that all Chinese nationals born in Hong Kong SAR are Hong Kong permanent residents with right of abode. All Chinese nationals living documented in Hong Kong for seven years are eligible for permanent residency and right of abode. Chinese nationals born to either of the above also become Hong Kong permanent residents with the right of abode. I’m going to stop there, but more provisions exist for non-Chinese nationals as well for permanent residency and right of abode as well.

I read these clauses over and over, in addition to the laws regarding what is makes a Chinese national to see if I was eligible. I guess many would ask why I would care to have another nationality. Dual nationality is messy and can create problems when you’re not careful. But then again there are plenty of dual nationals in the world and in the United States, so would it really be so bad to have it?

So since Hong Kong controls its own immigration, many of its people are Chinese nationals. In a misnomer of a term, Hong Kong nationality, Hong Kong controls Hong Kong Chinese nationality separately from Mainland China as well. In Hong Kong, and not in China, there are provisions for Chinese nationals by descent that allow for dual nationality when that Chinese national is given another nationality upon birth. As such, I am eligible for Hong Kong Chinese citizenship. As I also found out Hong Kong and the United States have special provisions allowing dual Hong Kong Chinese-American nationals access U.S. consular services and protection, even when entering as a Hong Kong Chinese national.

I figure that having the protection of two governments can’t be a bad thing, and if say, one country or the other were to implode, without legal issues there would be another place to live. In addition, if I ever want to work in Hong Kong, it would be my right to move here and do so. And if in the farther future I would ever want to move to China to work, it would be a lot easier (as a Hong Kong Chinese national) to do so.

As for conflict between the two nationalities, I would always have to pay taxes to the U.S. government. But as far as I know, Hong Kong does not have similar tax laws. In addition, nationality is one thing that’s easy to renounce. If someone doesn’t want to be part of a country, it would not benefit that country to force that person to stay a part, so if it ever becomes more of a disadvantage than an advantage to be a dual national, it would not be difficult to go into the local Chinese consulate and renounce my nationality.

The process by which I would substantiate my claims of permanent residency with an appropriate Hong Kong Identification Card is a different story, and it’s a convoluted process, something I hope to start in a few years.

What strikes me though is that my being a Chinese national is still so foreign to me. Still, I would call myself an American long before Chinese. Whereas I was born, raised, and educated in California, the first time I stepped foot in China was in 2007, when I was 17 years old.

It’s so fictitious the fact that I’m Chinese in this regard—and it’s all because of luck. If my mother had been born anywhere in China instead of Hong Kong, I would have no chance of being a Chinese national.

On the other hand, my friend who spent the first ten years of his life in China, and is, as such, much more culturally Chinese than me, has less rights than I do. It’s easier to go from Hong Kong or Macau (being the other special administrative region) to Mainland China than the other way around. Whereas I have recently discovered my right to live and work in Hong Kong, though this is the first time I’ve ever been to the south of China, he, despite having grown up partly near here, has no such rights, and would need to live here for seven full years before being given the same permanent residency that I, when the paperwork gets pushed through, have the potential to enjoy. And even if he were to live here for seven years, it would not be as an American, and as such not covered by the second clause of Hong Kong immigration law.

On the macro level, rules are rules, and laws are there for a reason. Hong Kong would be flooded with Mainland Chinese if there were greater freedom of movement in China. This would create plenty of problems, as Hong Kong has very little usable land without additional flattening and reclaiming.

On the micro level, why should I, never having even been outside North America, let alone to China until I was nearly an adult, have the right to live and work in Hong Kong when people who are from China, just over the border, have to make much more effort to get a permit to first go to China, then live there for seven years before being allowed to stay for good.

My friend wants to move to and work in Hong Kong much more than I want to, and he’s have to get a visa to do so.

Is it really fair? I was lucky enough to be born into it. My friend was not.

Copyright © 2009 James Philip Jee
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