By Kenneth Smith-
Washington, D.C. — The cultural flashpoint re-ignited at this year’s Grammy Awards encapsulated by Billie Ellish’s phrase with a phrase “no one is illegal on stolen land” is more than artistic rhetoric, but a long, painful American story of conquest, migration, identity and policy.
In order to understand the present moment — from sweeping ICE raids to why many critics see “banishing immigrants” as wrong and harmful — one must begin not with modern border politics but with the nation’s founding.
From the 17th to the 19th centuries, the United States expanded across the North American continent through warfare, treaties imposed under duress, forced removals and legal doctrines that systematically dispossessed Indigenous nations of their ancestral territories. Policies like the Indian
Removal Act of 1830 forced entire tribes from land that Europeans and later American settlers coveted, resulting in the deaths of thousands during forced relocations such as the Trail of Tears. These actions were part of an ideological project often justified under “Manifest Destiny” — the belief that white settlers were destined to expand across the continent — but they amounted in practice to ethnic displacement and genocide by contemporary standards.
Throughout the 19th and early 20th centuries, the U.S. also shaped its immigration system in ways that reflected racial hierarchies and economic interests. Before 1924, the country was relatively open to newcomers, but rising xenophobia and eugenic thinking led to restrictive immigration laws that favoured northern and western Europeans while excluding others — especially Asians — based on race.
American borders were not always tightly policed; the concept of unauthorized immigration is a 20th-century construct, and early migrants often moved freely without enforcement infrastructure.
Yet, in the public consciousness and activist discourse today, the notion that “we are all on stolen land” stems from the fact that the sovereign United States exists on lands taken from Indigenous peoples through violence and legal mechanisms that favoured settler expansion.
This historical context gives moral weight to the view that excluding newcomers or deporting people — particularly when they are seeking refuge, family unity, or economic survival — is morally inconsistent with a society built on displacement.
Critics argue that a government that never truly settled accounts for its colonial past should not treat people seeking a better life as criminals or threats.
Advocates like HIAS argue that historical injustices create a moral obligation to ensure government agencies operate with greater accountability and com. Critics of restrictive policies argue the US must align its laws with international human rights standards to avoid repeating past “humanitarian disasters”.
Lashawn Johnson , a 31 year old activist from Newyork, told The Eye Of Media.Com: ”when you look at some of the atrocious acts of history, they call for big powers like America to seek to make amends, rather than make life worse for immigrants. The Chinese Exclusion Act 1882 for example was the first federal law to ban a specific ethnic group, it led to decades of legal discrimination and physical violence, such as the Chinese massacre of 1871.
” During the 1920s and 30s, the US implemented restrictive quotas and engaged in large-scale repatriation campaigns, often targeting Mexican-Americans and legal residents.
And during WWII, the US rebuffed Jewish refugees fleeing Nazi atrocities, a decision later used as a moral argument for establishing robust asylum laws.
Ongoing reports of sexual violence and medical neglect in immigration detention facilities are also cited by advocates as evidence of a system that prioritises punishment over human rights.
Modern reports highlight a legacy of violence by agencies like the Border Patrol, including the use of lethal force and dehumanising slurs.
Borders Control
However, critics of softened policies argue that a state’s primary duty is to control its borders and manage resources for its current citizens. Recent legislation like the Laken Riley Act emphasizes the detention of unauthorised individuals accused of crimes, arguing that strict enforcement is necessary for national security.
U.S. immigration system did not always enforce family separation, mass deportation or interior raids. As modern nation-state structures developed in the 20th century, policies evolved from largely open movement to regulatory frameworks emphasizing borders and quotas. The Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965, for example, abolished racially based quotas and diversified pathways for migration, dramatically reshaping the American demographic fabric.
Today’s fierce enforcement — especially under President Donald Trump’s second administration — is rooted not in that earlier history of openness but in contemporary political, legal, and social pressures.
Trump entered office pledging the largest deportation program in U.S. history and quickly reshaped immigration policy through executive actions that expanded expedited removal — allowing deportations without court hearings — and revoked longstanding protections that barred immigration arrests at schools, hospitals, and churches.
The administration has even revived legal tools like the 1798 Alien Enemies Act — historically used only during declared wars — to justify detaining and deporting individuals from certain nations without due process, framing migration as an “invasion” in political rhetoric. These moves reflect a worldview that casts immigration as a national security threat and appeals to voters concerned about law, order, and rapid demographic change.
That framing resonates with some Americans. A Reuters/Ipsos poll shows that while overall approval for Trump’s immigration policy has reached record lows, many still view Republicans’ approach more favourably than Democrats’ on the issue, and immigration remains a central political divide. Supporters of Trump’s stringent policy will point to the need to guard against national security concerns like terrorism and fanaticism by keeping all illegal entrants to the U.S out of the country.
Trump’s stringent anti-immigration policy which has seen him use ICE to enforce removals of illegal immigrants is also premised on the notion of removing the ‘worst of the worst’ criminals from country, including gangs from other countries, in the process moving toward a safer America.
This is despite the fact America is so big that it is home to one of the worst criminals in the world. Nonetheless, the U.S president’s argument is anchored on the notion that hardened criminals cannot be come from other countries to add to the already flooded numbers residing in The U.S .
Also, the fewer illegal immigrants in the country, the more money in circulation for those who are residing in the country legally, advocates of Trump’s policy can also argue.
Officials contend that visible, aggressive enforcement creates a “deterrence effect”, pointing to a 93% year-over-year decline in border crossings by late 2025 as evidence that certain removal prevents future illegal entries.
Supporters of Trump’s radical initiative believe these measures restore integrity to the immigration system by ensuring laws are applied consistently. This includes removing individuals who have ignored final deportation orders or committed fraud to obtain benefits. The administration asserts that mass removals protect American workers from wage competition and reduce the fiscal strain on local communities and taxpayer-funded public assistance programs.
The White House argues it frames these actions as the execution of a clear mandate from voters who prioritised border security and enforcement in the last election.
Through “shock and awe” tactics and public awareness campaigns, the administration seeks to persuade unauthorised immigrants to leave voluntarily, which they claim is a cost-effective way to achieve policy goal
But aggressive enforcement has ignited widespread backlash, including from unexpected corners. Native American communities — paradoxically caught up in immigration sweeps despite their historical status as the continent’s original inhabitants — are carrying tribal IDs to prove citizenship and avoid wrongful detention.
Legal challenges are underway over federal operations such as Operation Metro Surge, in which thousands have been arrested and at least three deaths reported, including two from use of force by federal agents. Judges are even weighing whether the deployment of ICE agents in places like Minneapolis amounts to an unconstitutional federal occupation.
Religious groups like the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops have publicly condemned the administration’s approach, arguing that humane policy must balance border regulation with compassion and justice. Civil liberties organizations, such as the ACLU, have launched storytelling series highlighting the human toll of deportations, from family separations to community fear and trauma.
The human stories behind the statistics are stark. Parents seeking asylum or living long-established lives in communities find themselves abruptly detained or deported, leaving families fractured and children in limbo.
So where does that leave the debate? On one side are those who argue — grounded in history and ethics — that a nation built on dispossession has a moral obligation to embrace, not expel, people seeking safety and opportunity; that deportations and interior raids perpetuate patterns of marginalization, especially among people of colour, Indigenous groups, and historically excluded communities.
They see the phrase “no one is illegal on stolen land” not as poetic hyperbole but as a call to reckon with the moral legacy of U.S. nation-building.
On the other side are those who assert that sovereign nations have inherent authority to define and enforce borders, to regulate entry and residence in the interest of security, and to maintain the rule of law. From that perspective, strict enforcement — even if blunt or politically charged — is a legitimate response to uncontrolled migration and perceived threats.
Yet public opinion is shifting. Support for abolishing ICE has grown sharply following controversial raids, even among some Republicans, signalling potential realignment in how Americans view immigration enforcement.
The U.S. immigration debate will not be resolved overnight, but its contours are unmistakable.A nation grappling with a historical legacy of dispossession and exclusion, while wrestling with contemporary fears and aspirations about identity, security, and belonging. In this crucible, the question of whether strict immigration measures are justified — or whether they echo old patterns of exclusion — remains at the heart of American political and moral discourse.



