the value of citizenship

Immigration law enforcement has been a subject of much contention in the United States this year ('25). Much of the rancor ignores the true value of citizenship. What's it worth to be a citizen of a nation and what requirements should we expect? Let's examine how a Central American nation, Panamá, values its citizenship using a real-life case.

In the first quarter of this year, "Andrea", a naturalized citizen of the United States, born in Panamá, returned to the nation of her birth to obtain a national identification card known as a "cédula." She'd never obtained one since she left as a newborn and never attempted to acquire one as an adult, spending the vast majority of her life in the United States. The cédula is assigned a number at birth and is issued to Panamanian citizens. The cédula is analogous to a social security card with a picture ID. But there's much more to this card.

A cédula displays vital information of the person that owns it including name, place and date of birth, sex, signature, and photo, along with the number noted earlier.  The back of the card has a couple of QR codes containing the aforementioned information in addition to three lines that mimic what's on a passport. Having the cédula makes commercial transactions easier compared to foreign passport. Banking comes to mind. Also, if you're over a certain age, you can request discounts for services.

There is also something known as an E-cédula, though the "E" is not what you think — it's not an electronic version. The E-cédula means the card carrier is an "extranjero" or foreigner. I won't describe the steps required to obtain this card, and there are many. After five years of carrying the E-cédula, a foreigner can apply for citizenship.

Every person in Panamá is required to have a valid form of identification. Panamanian citizens show the cédula. Foreigners must show their passport or E-cédula. If a foreigner is asked for ID and they produce neither a passport nor the E-cédula, they have a problem.

The requirements for US residents to enter Panama as tourists (180-days) are pretty straightforward:

• Valid passport with three months until expiration past your entry date

• Proof of funds ($500 cash or equivalent)

• Return plane ticket

Overstaying the 180 days also creates a problem for tourists and the US State Department warns against this misstep. By the way, there are also strict rules for Panamanian citizens and legal residents under 18 to exit the country with only one parent.

Back to Andrea. When she visited the government office responsible for issuing the card, she carried her US passport and her Panamanian birth certificate. The office informed her they needed to authenticate the birth certificate, and the process could take months. There was nothing inauthentic about her birth certificate and verification of its authenticity should have been rather quick. Both her parents were born in Panama and had cédulas not to mention Andrea's birth was recorded in the national registry. Nevertheless, the government wanted to work through this process.

A few months later, the Panamanian government notified Andrea that they'd successfully authenticated her birth certificate. I'm not certain how they did that outside of the information already presented. If you thought she could simply return to Panama to obtain her card, you'd be incorrect. The government requested she bring a relative that knew her life's events quite well for a comprehensive interview that would also help verify her genealogical tree.

Andrea asked her brother, "Jorge", a naturalized US citizen, and also born in Panamá, to accompany her. Andrea and Jorge planned to meet in Houston for their journey to Panamá. About a week prior to their departure, the Panamanian government informed Andrea that she'd need to bring an authenticated marriage certificate from the US county of her marriage and have a Panamanian consulate apply an apostille to the certificate. The apostille simplifies the process of recognizing documents across borders. This unexpected request required Andrea to travel out of her home state of Nevada to obtain the marriage certificate in Iowa and then visit the Panamá consulate, fortunately in Houston.

Now in Panamá, Andrea and Jorge had a couple of days before their scheduled interview and decided to trek into the interior part of the country. En route, they were detained in a routine traffic check. The stern officer, assuming both were tourists, asked for their passports. The officer entered information on his electronic device and returned the passports. Remember what I said earlier about the necessity to carry identification documents.

Upon their return to Panamá City, they ventured to the government office for their respective interviews. A government officer interviewed Andrea, asking about the significant events in her life as well as questions about her family tree. Jorge followed in a separate interview with the same government officer. The questions were quite detailed. Satisfied that both Andrea and Jorge answered consistently, the government officer granted Andrea the right to submit for a cédula. Andrea got her picture taken and issued a temporary document akin to a temporary driver's license in the US.

A few days after her interview, Andrea finally secured her cédula! Much to her surprise, however, was the absence of her married name. All that appeared on the cédula was her birth name [Andrea, middle name, father's last name, mother's maiden name]. It's curious then why the government asked for her marriage certificate if her married name would be absent from the ID. Perhaps it was another authentication process?

For Panama, bestowing citizenship is not a trivial matter — it means something. Ultimately, they wanted to ensure Andrea was who she claimed. Consider that this entire process was mandated for someone who already was a natural born citizen. Citizenship should have a high bar. Citizenship reflects the sacrifices of those who came before us to found and make that nation prosperous. Citizenship reflects our hopes and dreams for the future. This is something many in the US have forgotten.