Vivek Ramaswamy
@VivekGRamaswamy
tweeted in Sept. 2024:
Two competing views of national identity:
1. Heritage, blood, soil.
2. Ideals, allegiance, duty.
Most nations are built around #1. Ours is built around #2. That’s what makes American exceptionalism possible.
The most liked reply was:
If America is an idea,
Why do people need to physically come here?
You can have an idea anywhere
Apparently most of the world would rather live under White rule, than non-white rule.
Vivek's argument is often used to justify importing non-White foreigners. I wonder where it comes from?
America is about 250 years old. Did anyone express this early on? I asked Grok3.
Vivek Ramaswamy’s tweet suggesting that America was founded on ideals, allegiance, and duty rather than heritage, blood, and soil reflects a particular interpretation of American identity—one that emphasizes a civic rather than an ethnic or ancestral basis for nationhood. This idea aligns with the concept of America as a "creedal nation," defined by shared principles like liberty, equality, and self-governance, rather than a common lineage or territorial origin. Let’s explore whether this perspective traces back to the Founders and their writings.
The Founders didn’t use the exact phrasing of "ideals, allegiance, duty" versus "heritage, blood, soil," but their ideas, as expressed in key documents and personal writings, lean heavily toward a nation built on principles rather than ethnicity or heredity. The Declaration of Independence (1776), penned by Thomas Jefferson, is a prime example. It grounds the American experiment in universal ideals: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights." This isn’t about bloodlines or soil—it’s about a shared belief in rights and governance by consent. Jefferson later wrote in 1813 that America’s strength lay in its ability to attract "the virtuous and industrious" from abroad, suggesting openness to those who’d embrace its principles, not just those born on its land.
James Madison, in The Federalist Papers (No. 14), argued that America’s government was a bold experiment in liberty, distinct from older nations tied to monarchy or tribal roots. He framed it as a union of people choosing a system, not inheriting one. Alexander Hamilton, himself an immigrant, reinforced this in Federalist No. 1, emphasizing a nation built on "reflection and choice" rather than "accident and force"—a rejection of destiny tied to heritage.
That said, the Founders weren’t uniform, and some views complicate the picture. John Jay, in Federalist No. 2, described Americans as "one united people—a people descended from the same ancestors, speaking the same language, professing the same religion." This nods toward a cultural homogeneity that sounds closer to "blood and soil." Yet, Jay’s point was more about unity as a practical advantage for governance than a defining essence—context matters, as he was arguing for ratification, not codifying an ethnic state.
The Constitution itself avoids ethnic or hereditary language, focusing on "We the People" and their agreed-upon framework. It’s silent on ancestry as a qualification for citizenship, unlike, say, European monarchies rooted in dynastic bloodlines. The Naturalization Act of 1790 did limit citizenship to "free white persons," reflecting racial biases of the time, but this was a legal restriction, not a philosophical statement about the nation’s core identity.
Vivek’s framing echoes later thinkers too, like Abraham Lincoln, who in 1858 called America a nation dedicated to the "proposition" of equality, open to those who’d swear allegiance to it. This civic nationalism contrasts with European models—like Germany’s historical emphasis on Volksgeist (spirit of the people) tied to ethnicity and land.
So, did the Founders express this opinion? Broadly, yes—they prioritized ideals and voluntary commitment over ancestral ties, though they operated in a context where cultural similarities were assumed. Vivek’s tweet distills this into a modern dichotomy, amplifying the creedal aspect. The idea isn’t a direct quote from 1776, but it’s a fair reading of the Founding spirit, filtered through centuries of interpretation.
I replied:
You say that the Constitution itself avoids hereditary language, but it specifically says that its purpose is to "secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity". That seems like hereditary language to me.
It said:
You’re right to point out the phrase "secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity" in the Constitution’s Preamble—it does carry a sense of inheritance, and it’s worth digging into what that means in context. The word "Posterity" literally refers to descendants, those who come after, which can sound like a nod to a familial or hereditary legacy. But let’s unpack whether this implies the kind of "heritage, blood, and soil" foundation Vivek’s tweet contrasts with, or something else.
In the Preamble, "ourselves and our Posterity" follows a list of goals: forming a more perfect union, establishing justice, ensuring domestic tranquility, providing for the common defense, and promoting the general welfare. These are civic aims, not ethnic or ancestral ones. "Posterity" here seems to mean the future generations of the political community—the "We the People" who’ve signed onto this system—not necessarily a bloodline tied to a specific race or lineage. The Founders were setting up a government to perpetuate a way of life based on liberty, not to preserve a tribal identity.
This reading fits the broader document. The Constitution doesn’t define "the People" by heredity or restrict its benefits to a founding stock. It’s a framework for anyone who joins the compact—citizens by birth or naturalization. Compare this to, say, medieval charters tying rights to noble blood, or later nationalist ideologies like 19th-century German romanticism, where "soil" and "blood" explicitly meant ethnic purity and ancestral land. The U.S. Constitution lacks that flavor. Even the "Posterity" line doesn’t gatekeep who gets to be part of "the People" based on descent alone.
The Founders’ own words elsewhere support this. Jefferson, in his 1801 inaugural address, welcomed "the stranger" who’d "acknowledge" America’s principles, suggesting the nation’s future wasn’t just for biological heirs but for those who’d adopt its ideals. Madison, in Federalist No. 52, tied representation to "the People" as a living electorate, not a fixed hereditary class. The practical context matters too: they were building a republic amid diverse colonies—English, Dutch, German settlers, and more—where a strict blood-and-soil unity wasn’t feasible.
Now, your point still stands— "Posterity" has a hereditary ring to it, and it’s not wrong to see a literal intent to pass liberty to their kids and grandkids. Some Founders, like Adams, worried about virtue decaying in future generations, implying a hope their literal descendants would carry on. But the Constitution’s lack of mechanisms to enforce this hereditarily—like tying citizenship or rights to specific ancestry — suggests it’s less about "blood" as a defining trait and more about ensuring the system endures for whoever’s part of it down the line.
So, while "Posterity" evokes inheritance, it’s not hereditary in the sense of locking America’s identity to a founding lineage or ethnic core. It’s closer to a temporal promise—liberty for those who come after, under the same civic banner. Vivek’s “ideals, allegiance, duty” angle still holds up: the Founders weren’t handing down a kingdom or a tribe, but a set of principles meant to outlast them. The tension you’ve flagged shows how their language can pull in both directions, though the document’s thrust leans civic over ancestral.
It says diverse colonies meant English, Dutch, and German White Christians. They certainly knew
about Negroes and Indians living in the area, but did not include them.
It is fair to say that there is an argument for and against Vivek's tweet. Decide for yourself.
