LDL. BREAKING: Jim Jordan Pushes Bill to Ban Naturalized Citizens From Congress — Omar Calls It “A Direct Attack on Millions of Americans”
The House chamber fell unusually quiet when Rep. Jim Jordan stepped to the microphone and dropped a proposal that even some of his allies were not expecting.
“Today I am introducing the American-Born Representation Act,” Jordan announced, holding up a stack of papers. “From now on, every member of the United States Congress should be born on American soil. Period.”
With that, a fight exploded that cuts straight to the heart of what it means to be American.
The proposed bill would bar naturalized citizens — Americans who were born abroad and later earned citizenship — from serving in the House or Senate. It would not remove current members immediately, but would prevent them from running again once their current term expires.
Though Jordan never mentioned her by name, everyone knew who the arrows were pointed at: Rep. Ilhan Omar and other naturalized lawmakers who have become high-profile targets in America’s culture wars.
“You’re Telling Millions of Us We’ll Never Be Enough”
Within minutes, Omar was in front of the cameras, visibly angry but composed.
“I survived a civil war, a refugee camp, and a years-long immigration process to become an American,” she said. “I followed every rule this country set for me. Now a colleague wants to say I can vote, pay taxes, raise a family here — but I can’t represent the people who elected me because I was born on another continent.”
“This bill doesn’t just come after me,” she added. “It comes after every naturalized citizen who ever dreamed of serving their adopted home. It’s telling millions of us: you will never be enough.”
Other immigrant-background lawmakers, both Democrat and Republican, quickly joined her in condemning the proposal. One GOP member, himself the son of naturalized parents, called it “a slap in the face to every American who chose this country rather than simply being born here by accident.”
Critics: “Un-American, Unconstitutional, and Unnecessary”
Legal scholars almost immediately questioned whether Jordan’s bill would survive even a basic court challenge. The U.S. Constitution already sets the eligibility rules for members of Congress: age, length of citizenship, and residency in the state represented. It does not distinguish between citizens by birth and citizens by naturalization.
“Congress doesn’t get to rewrite the Constitution by statute,” one constitutional law professor explained. “If you want to change who can serve, you need a constitutional amendment, not a simple bill.”
Civil rights groups went further, calling the proposal “un-American on its face.”
“We are a nation built by immigrants,” one advocacy director said. “The idea that we would tell a naturalized citizen — who has passed background checks, taken civics tests, and sworn an oath to this country — that they are still second-class, is a betrayal of everything the American flag is supposed to stand for.”
Faith leaders, veterans’ organizations, and immigration lawyers shared stories of naturalized Americans who have served in the military, run businesses, and held local office.
“If they can die for this country in uniform, they should be able to speak for it in Congress,” a veterans’ group posted.
Supporters Frame It as “Protecting National Security”
Jordan and his allies insist the bill is about security and loyalty, not bigotry.
“Foreign influence is real,” he said in a follow-up interview. “We vet people for security clearances. We have rules about dual citizenship in sensitive positions. All this bill says is that when you sit in the most powerful legislature on earth, you should have been born a citizen of the United States.”
Several conservative commentators echoed that framing, arguing that naturalized members could face “divided loyalties” or pressure from foreign governments.
But critics quickly noted that many espionage and corruption cases in American history have involved U.S.-born citizens, not immigrants — and that loyalty is not guaranteed by birthplace.
“Benedict Arnold was born here,” one historian wrote. “So were plenty of convicted spies and corrupt politicians. Loyalty is proven by actions, not birth certificates.”
A Clash Over the Meaning of “We the People”
What makes the bill so explosive is not just its legal dubiousness, but the deeper symbolism. To supporters, it is about drawing a bright line around the national community. To opponents, it is about shredding the promise that citizenship truly makes you equal.
Omar framed it this way:
“You can’t tell little kids who took the oath with their parents last year that they’re just as American as anyone else — and then pass a law saying, ‘Well, not quite. You can vote, but you can’t lead.’”
She held up her own naturalization certificate at a press conference and said, “This document says I am as American as anyone sitting in that chamber. If Jim Jordan disagrees, he’s not just arguing with me. He’s arguing with the United States government.”
In town halls and call-in shows, naturalized citizens shared their own reactions.
A nurse from New York who became a citizen 12 years ago said, “I never planned to run for office. But knowing that I could was part of what made this feel like home. Taking that away sends a message: we’re good enough to work and pay taxes, but not good enough to decide anything.”
What Happens Next?
The bill’s path forward is uncertain. Even some members of Jordan’s own party have signaled discomfort, worrying that it will alienate immigrant communities and moderate voters.
Privately, strategists admit the proposal may never reach the president’s desk — but they also know it forces a headline-grabbing question: Who counts as fully American?
Omar and her allies seem intent on making sure that question doesn’t get buried.
“This is not a paperwork debate,” she said. “This is about the soul of the phrase ‘We the People.’ Either it includes every citizen, or it’s just a slogan we dust off during elections.”
As the battle lines harden, one thing is undeniable: the fight over who is allowed to speak for America has become just as fierce as the fight over who is allowed to come to America.
And for millions of naturalized citizens watching from living rooms, break rooms, and late-night bus rides home, the message from Washington feels personal:
Is this country truly theirs — or only on loan?
