Love Within Borders
Part Two: The State's Right to Limit Admissions
NOTE: Readers will notice that my posting has slowed down. This is a trend that will continue throughout the holiday season.
In the first post of the series, I laid out the first of a handful of philosophical questions that lie beneath the immigration debate. That question pertained to the fundamental units of international relations. On the one hand, all humans are made in God’s image and inhabit a shared earth. Given that the location of one’s birth is morally arbitrary, and that no one can lay claim to the earth in a God-like way, it stands to reason that people, for the most part, should have the freedom to migrate and settle wherever they like. Borders—and the soldiers with guns policing them—threaten this putative right (Carens). This outlook represents a cosmopolitan perspective on the world and views national borders as an obstacle to human freedom and flourishing at best, and a violation of human rights at worst.
Cosmopolitanism stands in tension with the empirical reality that since the 1648 Peace of Westphalia, we have inhabited a decentralized, fragmented international community. In this community, sovereign nation-states have particular responsibilities toward their own people, but also a responsibility to refrain from interfering with the internal workings of other nation-states. As autonomous units, each nation-state has a right to police migration into its jurisdiction.
Governing authorities have been appointed by God as ministers of public justice and peace for those under their jurisdiction. Therefore, states have a responsibility to make immigration allowances with the well-being and safety of their residents as a controlling guide. Residents and would-be immigrants must submit to the governing authorities and obey immigration laws even if they believe those laws to be less than ideal (à la Rom. 13).
Broadly speaking, this is a communitarian perspective on the global order. Objectively, there is no question that we live in a fragmented international arrangement with autonomous, sovereign states. Normatively, however, it isn’t clear that this is how things should be—after all, nation-states are relative newcomers to world history.
Perhaps the current state of affairs represents an unjust restriction of social and economic mobility—a kind of international feudalism that we should move beyond (Carens). Certainly the Bible does not prescribe a particular international order. Furthermore, Catholic Social Teaching, for example, is broadly antagonistic toward the current international situation and leans heavily into a cosmopolitan framework in its teaching about global justice and transnational migration. The church transcends international borders. We are called as Christians not only to love our neighbor, but to demonstrate hospitality toward the stranger and sojourner. Put all of this together, and Christians have a lot of careful philosophical and theological thinking to do before they get to a single policy question.
In exploring these issues, I’ll break my response into two parts. First, I’ll argue for states’ rights to regulate entry into their jurisdictions. In the next post, I’ll argue for a Christian posture toward migrants and would-be migrants and offer a synthesized analysis, drawing the threads of the first three posts together.
The Role of the Governing Authorities—Justice and Protection for Whom?
There are a variety of ways one might argue for the right of nation-states to regulate admissions, but perhaps the most foundational—and the one most likely to appeal to Christians—is the following:
Governments have the responsibility to eliminate and/or limit threats to peace, order, and justice within their jurisdiction.
Sometimes, migration into a jurisdiction threatens peace, order, or justice within it.
Therefore, sometimes governments have the responsibility to eliminate and/or limit migration into their jurisdiction.
The conclusion inescapably follows from the premises. What can be said in their favor?
Premise One
The first premise attempts to capture one implication of a Christian understanding of government derived from texts like Gen. 9:1–7; Matt. 22:21; Rom. 13:1–7; 1 Tim. 2:1–2; 1 Pet. 2:13–17; and Tit. 3:1. Broadly speaking, the primary role of the magistrate is to protect and promote peace, order, and justice within its jurisdiction. It stands to reason, therefore, that the state has a responsibility to stop or mitigate threats to those very things. After all, how could it accomplish its purpose without doing so? A few things stand out about this account, especially relevant to conversations surrounding transnational migration.
First, the civil government primarily serves in a protectionist role—not the role of moral tutor for the commonwealth or as a conduit for mercy and compassion. Of course, we cannot subtract morality from legislation, and the commuting of sentences—as well as clemency—can plausibly be construed as merciful elements of the justice system. Nevertheless, the governing authorities exist primarily to police and punish harmful conduct and to ensure peace and order so that people can live unmolested lives (1 Tim. 2:1–2). There is not a single verse in the New Testament suggesting that exercising compassion and mercy are normative goals for the state.
Furthermore, and contra Aristotle, the fact that there is no biblical evidence suggesting the state bears responsibility for the moral formation of its constituents implies that a Christian legislative state (one version of Christian Nationalism) as it is typically conceived lacks biblical warrant. One might object that all sin is “harmful conduct” (Rom. 13:3) and thus, along with Christian moral education, the state should punish sins such as worshipping other gods or criminalize consensual fornication among adults. And this is exactly what many versions of the Christian legislative state would entail.
However, when Paul wrote Romans 13, he was very aware that the governing authorities did not punish such things as a matter of plain fact. Nor is there any hint that they had the prerogative to do so. Indeed, the state does not have the God-given responsibility to punish offenses against God that are not miscarriages of public justice or threats to peace. Punishment for such moral infractions is reserved for the church in this age and for Christ on the day of judgment (e.g., Rom. 2:16; 2 Cor. 2:6; Tit. 3:10).
From a positive perspective—and directly relevant to the immigration debate—is the suggestion that the laws of nation-states should mirror the laws of Old Testament Israel, which is sometimes taken to be a model for how to arrange nations in general. Recalling that Israel was once an alien nation in the land of Egypt, the Old Testament adopts a welcoming posture toward those seeking to migrate (e.g., Ruth) and insists not only that sojourners be treated well, but that they be integrated into the life of Israel (Lev. 19:33–34; 24:22; Deut. 1:16; 10:18–19).
In fact, partially in service of their agenda to be a kingdom of priests to the nations (Ex. 19:5–6), there was no limit to how many sojourners could dwell among the people of Israel. We can leave Christian Nationalists and advocates of porous borders—rarely found in the same circles—to decide which party is being inconsistent. For those understanding the role of government along the lines sketched above, however, the manner in which Israel policed idolatry, fornication, and transnational migration is not a controlling factor in understanding contemporary states’ rights and responsibilities regarding admissions. No 21st-century nation-state is Old Testament Israel (including modern “Israel”), nor even a dim approximation thereof.
Another important element baked into the first premise is what David Carens (a non-Christian advocate for open borders) calls bounded justice. As the phrase implies, bounded justice is the idea that with regard to justice—and Christians would add peacekeeping—a government’s primary obligation is to those within its borders or jurisdiction. For many people, this seems so obvious that it’s hardly worth stating. Philosophically, however, things aren’t quite that simple—a perspective we’ll consider more closely in the next post. But nearly everyone agrees that at a certain point, nations should enter the battle for international justice, even when that means violating another state’s sovereignty and suffering national losses (e.g., U.S. involvement in WWII).
While we should admit that Scripture is not a work of political philosophy in the ordinary sense (i.e., Scripture doesn’t tell us what constitutes a legitimate state or how one is formed), its witness to the state’s role in achieving transnational justice is barely a whisper. From the standpoint of the Old Testament, the prospect of transnational justice comes from the Servant who will “bring justice to the nations” (Isa. 42:1) and the coming messianic King who will usher in global peace (Zech. 9:10).
Furthermore, when transnational justice is depicted in the Old Testament, it comes as a result of sin and with the aim of punishment—most memorably toward Israel (e.g., Gen. 15:6; Isa. 10:5–7; Jer. 25:11). Perhaps a very long chain of inferences from Gen. 9:5–6 could eventually conclude something about a state’s obligation to global justice, but it would be a very long chain indeed. The New Testament, on the other hand, is completely silent on transnational justice from the perspective of the governing authorities and their purpose—global peace and justice await the return of the King.
This is not to say that nation-states have no obligation to global justice. Rather, it is to say that these obligations do not flow in any direct way from how Scripture describes the role of the state (as opposed to the obligations of individuals within it—a very different proposition yet to be explored). If this is the case, then Christians should be very hesitant to insist on a state’s obligation to promote and protect justice for those outside its jurisdiction with the same zeal with which it seeks these things for those within it. The relationship of this principle to the entrance claims of would-be migrants should be obvious. Bounded justice, therefore, is not absolute, but from the standpoint of Scripture, it certainly seems primary. Governments should prioritize their people and their jurisdiction.
Before proceeding to the second premise, we should note that nothing in premise one assumes a particular form of government or a particular scope. For the Roman Empire, the obligation to protect and promote peace, order, and justice extended throughout the empire. If there were a single global government today, for example, then a governmental obligation to global justice would be fitting—though it would not constitute “transnational justice” in the way we conceive of it now. Such a government would still be primarily responsible for those under its jurisdiction (and not, say, settlers on Mars), but “its jurisdiction” would include the entire earth.
Indeed, Christians expect something like this in the new heavens and new earth. However, given that we currently find ourselves living within nation-states with independent governing authorities, “Caesar” has become far more local. In the absence of a supranational governmental authority, if we don’t understand the governments of individual nation-states to be the “governing authorities,” then we will find ourselves looking out on a world with no governing authorities at all—a world in which Rom. 13:1–7 has no application. Surely that is the wrong conclusion.
Premise Two
Premise two is much easier to defend. Why might migration be seen as a potential threat to peace, order, or justice? While acknowledging that these threats have often been used as boogeymen to justify apathy and xenophobia (e.g., the reluctance of most states to accept Jewish refugees fleeing Hitler prior to the Final Solution), the following sketch identifies potentially legitimate threats to the peace, order, and justice of a nation-state:
Physical harm and wickedness
States have a strong incentive to ensure the violent and lawless are barred from entry to the best of their ability.Disease
If there are good reasons to believe certain migrants pose a significant health threat to a nation-state’s population, that state is justified in limiting their entrance, at least until the threat is diminished or eliminated.Lack of space (small countries)
If a nation-state lacks the geographic capacity necessary to responsibly admit migrants—honoring them as people without dishonoring current members—it is justified in restricting immigration.Scarcity of natural resources
If a nation-state does not have sufficient natural resources to sustain life—like food and clean water—it may prioritize the needs of its own people by limiting the flow of migrants.Threats to distributive justice
If there is good reason to believe that an influx of migrants will meaningfully threaten the distribution of opportunities, goods, and services for a state’s constituents—housing, wages, the labor market—or overwhelm public infrastructure (education, healthcare), a state may restrict admissions to guard against distributive injustice.Threats to national solidarity
National stability requires some kind of unity to form and sustain a “we” that presses forward as a collective. Often this unity is achieved through common narratives, languages, religions, a shared sense of national identity, and/or commitment to particular social and political values (e.g., rule of law, democratic process, First Amendment freedoms in the U.S.).When a nation-state loses a meaningful sense of solidarity, its constituents descend into mutual distrust and suspicion, creating a fragile and vulnerable commonwealth. Sometimes this leads to civil war.
If a nation-state has credible reason to believe that admitting certain migrants will meaningfully threaten national solidarity and the resulting peace, it may deny admission to such would-be migrants to protect the long-term health of the commonwealth. This reason is likely the most abused, because—despite its importance—it is the least concrete.
Of course, all of these reasons for restricting immigration can be abused—and have been. Abuse, however, does not undercut appropriate use. The bottom line is that sometimes migration will threaten peace, order, or justice, and when there is good reason to believe it will, states are justified in denying or limiting admissions.
Conclusion
The conclusion of our argument follows from the two premises: sometimes, governments have the responsibility to eliminate and/or limit migration into their jurisdiction.
In this post, I’ve attempted to provide one argument in favor of discretionary admissions from the standpoint of the state. This argument has been based primarily on the role of government as laid out in Scripture and the potential effects of migration. The next post in the series will examine how individuals within a state should view their obligations to those outside it. This will create a healthy tension out of which to draw some principled conclusions about transnational migration in light of the world as it is currently arranged.
Helpful Resources
Joseph Carens, The Ethics of Immigration
David Miller, Strangers in Our Midst
David Miller, National Responsibility and Global Justice
David VanDrunen, Politics After Christendom
Stephen Wolfe, The Case for Christian Nationalism
James Baird, King of Kings: A Reformed Guide to Christian Government
Kristen Heyer, Kinship Across Borders: A Christian Ethic of Immigration (strong Catholic perspective)