Abjuring Princes and Potentates, with Liberty and Justice for All
On June 14, the South Street Seaport Museum hosted a ceremony aboard the historic tall ship Wavertree, in which 20 applicants from 17 countries were sworn in as new American citizens. Within the shadow of the Brooklyn Bridge, surrounded by the skyline that is likely recognizable in each of those nations, flanked by beaming proud entourages of family members and friends, they raised their right hands and swore (in part) to “support and defend the Constitution and laws of the United States of America against all enemies, foreign and domestic,” and to “bear true faith and allegiance to the same.”
Among the speakers was Captain Jonathan Boulware, president of the South Street Seaport Museum, who recalled the story of John Wolfe Ambrose, “an Irish immigrant kid who came to America at age 13,” in 1851. Ambrose bootstrapped his way into what is now New York University, where he studied engineering. He went on to design and build elevated train lines that stretched the length of Manhattan. But his real legacy, Captain Boulware recalled, was to persuade “the U.S. Congress in the 1890s to allocate $6 million to build a deep channel that would allow bigger ships into New York Harbor. The idea was that if New York didn’t invest in its port, then it would be overtaken by other cities. New York was facing a moment of inflection, when investment was necessary. And the idea came from somebody who had emigrated here.”
Moored adjacent to the Wavertree is the lightship Ambrose, which once guided vessels into New York. Gesturing toward the vessel, he noted, “John Ambrose didn’t live long enough to see his project completed.” But shortly after the engineer’s death in 1899, “Congress named the new channel after him. And lightships are named after the places where they serve. So the beacons atop the masts of the lightship Ambrose became the literal front door to New York in the 20th century. We think about six and half million people passed it on their way into New York, to become Americans.”
“We all come from somewhere,” Captain Boulware observed. “We all bring what we bring and that’s what makes this a city that does not seek assimilation, but incorporation. Today, New York is a great American city, but also a global city. And one of the central reasons is that it has opened its arms to waves of immigration.”
A member of the audience reflected that one devotion denied to Americans who have loved their country since birth is that they are forever barred from choosing to become Americans. That distinction is reserved exclusively for those born elsewhere, who manage to complete the daunting gauntlet of legal and administrative obstacles that now figuratively stand where the beacons of the Ambrose (decommissioned in 1966) once stood watch.
In 1891, around the time that Ambrose was arguing to deepen New York’s shipping lanes, Rudyard Kipling wrote these words: “Winds of the World, give answer! They are whimpering to and fro. And what should they know of England who only England know?” Substituting the United States for England, this caused at least one person attending the ceremony aboard the Wavertree to wonder whether Americans by birth can ever perceive their country through the eyes of someone who must struggle to get here, who must earn the right to call this place home.
Among those sworn in as citizens on June 14 was Salim Mulla, a 29-year-old native of Gujarat, India, who came to America at age 21. For the last year, he has been serving in the Army National Guard, where he has been trained as a water-treatment specialist. Mr. Salim was one of a half-dozen military candidates who led the other 14 applicants in reciting the Pledge of Allegiance.
“This is a magnificent country,” he said afterward. “It really is what they say, ‘the Land of Opportunity.” Asked what he hopes to do next as an American citizen, Mr. Mulla responded as if they answer could not be more obvious: “I’m going to join the New York City Police Department, of course.”