Alien Enemies Act: From the Quasi-War to Modern Policy

Anjali Mehta

So, 1798. The United States was still finding its footing as a young republic, you know, navigating international tensions and internal political divisions. Enter the Quasi-War with France, an undeclared naval conflict, and out came the Alien Enemies Act. A move by the Federalist administration—John Adams and his crew—to address fears of espionage and foreign influence.

Duke Johnson

Yeah, but let’s call it like it is. Fear of spies and traitors. They were buttoning up defenses, battlestations ready, no tolerance for threats.

Anjali Mehta

True, Duke, but there was more to it. They weren’t just addressing external dangers; they were navigating fierce political rivalry at home. The Democratic-Republicans, led by Jefferson and Madison, they cried foul—saw this Act as a gross overreach of executive power, even a weapon to silence dissenters. And many called it unconstitutional.

Duke Johnson

Right, but think about the times. No drones, no satellites. Just intelligence reports and gut instincts. When you’re at war—or close to it—you have to think defensively. You’re not weighing every action for how it looks in hindsight.

Anjali Mehta

Hmm. But the thing is, Duke, they weren’t even technically at war, not formally. The Act gave the president the authority to detain or deport foreign nationals from hostile nations during wartime. But this was during an undeclared conflict—no official war. And critics argued this blurred the line of what a wartime “necessity” really was.

Duke Johnson

Necessary’s subjective. The Federalists weren’t taking chances. Adams’ crew wanted to shore up national security, protect infrastructure, preserve the republic. I mean, come on—can you blame ’em?

Anjali Mehta

But at what cost though? Detractors were outraged by the potential abuse—targeting immigrants based on nationality, eroding civil liberties like the right to due process. Plus, how much of this was really about national security versus stifling political opposition?

Duke Johnson

Politics and war—they’re always tangled up. You protect what you can control. And back then? They didn’t have a whole lot to control with. Small army, fragile government, and a world full of enemies—or, at least, perceived enemies.

Anjali Mehta

Perceived is right. Madison argued the Act wasn’t about security at all, but a tool to suppress dissent. A salve for the growing paranoia. And Jefferson? Well, he championed the idea that liberty had to be protected at all costs, even in times of crisis. It’s a fascinating contradiction, isn’t it? Balancing liberty with security.

Duke Johnson

Yeah, but history shows security always wins in the short term. Survival first. Everything else later.

Anjali Mehta

And that’s where the debate lies. Was it survival or suppression? That question shaped the discourse then and continues to echo today.

Anjali Mehta

So let’s pick up the thread, Duke. Fast-forward to World War I, and the Alien Enemies Act makes a comeback. This time it targeted German nationals in the U.S., reviving fears from decades earlier but on an even larger scale. They were forced to register, faced movement restrictions, and even saw their properties confiscated. It was surveillance taken to new extremes.

Duke Johnson

Yeah, sounds like wartime lockdowns. Strategic operations. They weren’t messing around—if you had ties to the enemy, you got flagged. Makes sense to me. The stakes were high, right?

Anjali Mehta

Maybe. But some of those “flagged” individuals had been living in the U.S. for years, building lives, raising families. Many were not dangerous, yet they were treated like guilty threats just because of their nationality. How's that fair?

Duke Johnson

Fair? War’s never fair. It’s about who survives. And by World War II, this Act was taken to the next level—Japanese-Americans, German-Americans, and even Italian-Americans. They got swept up. Internment camps. Entire families torn apart.

Anjali Mehta

Exactly. And Japanese-American internment during World War II became its most infamous chapter. Over 120,000 people forcibly relocated, many of them American citizens. Korematsu v. United States? It upheld those actions, saying national security justified them. But decades later, even the Supreme Court admitted it was wrong. And Ex parte Endo... that case showed how unjust the government's actions had been.

Duke Johnson

Yeah, but the government wasn’t looking for justice back then, Anjali. They were seeing threats, spies, enemy agents everywhere. It wasn’t just paranoia—it was protection.

Anjali Mehta

But Duke, protection doesn’t have to come at the cost of humanity, does it? These people were stripped of their rights—racial profiling fueled it all. And let’s not forget, German and Italian immigrants faced softer restrictions compared to Japanese-Americans. That’s where prejudice reared its ugly head.

Duke Johnson

You might call it prejudice, I’d call it prioritizing risk. Look, I’m not saying the internments weren’t harsh, but harsh measures in war aren’t new—ask any soldier. You pick your battles.

Anjali Mehta

Yet history isn’t kind to these decisions. Decades later, reparations were made to survivors—proof that the U.S. saw the error of its ways. But have we really learned anything, or are we destined to keep repeating these injustices whenever there’s fear in the air?

Duke Johnson

I’d say we’ve learned more about strategy, maybe softened on tactics. But yeah, fear’s a powerful motivator. It still dictates big decisions. History repeats, but maybe we’re smarter now. Who knows?

Anjali Mehta

That’s the troubling part, Duke: how we justify repeating mistakes under the guise of “national security.” It’s still an open wound in our collective story, etched into our policies even today.

Duke Johnson

And yet, we keep walking that edge. Balancing security and rights—it’s a hell of a tightrope to walk.

Anjali Mehta

And it’s one we might be navigating again soon, Duke. The echoes of World War II’s injustices linger, casting long shadows over how we approach crises now.

Anjali Mehta

It’s unsettling, isn’t it, Duke? What we talked about—those echoes of fear and justification—they still resonate today. And here we are, staring at this same Act from 1798, still alive in our legal system. Doesn’t it feel surreal? I mean, how has something born out of an undeclared naval conflict managed to remain a cornerstone even now?

Duke Johnson

It’s not about relevance, Anjali—it’s about utility. The Act’s still in the playbook because it delivers when the chips are down. You threaten national security, and governments need tools—direct, no-nonsense tools.

Anjali Mehta

But isn’t that the very issue? Tools like this carry the risk of abuse. Look at what critics argue today—this Act bypasses due process. It treats nationality as criminality. Isn’t that a problem?

Duke Johnson

Only if it’s misused. You enforce sparingly, Anjali. You don’t sound the alarm unless there’s real danger. The president’s got a job: keep the country safe. This Act lets ’em do it, fast and clean.

Anjali Mehta

“Fast and clean,” Duke, or unchecked and unjust? Think of the recent discussions—President Trump’s purported interest in invoking this Act, perhaps even outside wartime. Critics say it’s a pretext for mass deportations without hearings. That’s a far cry from managing spies or wartime enemies. Where do civil liberties fit into this?

Duke Johnson

Yeah, but any policy comes with sharp edges, right? You can’t defend a nation if all you’re worried about is stepping on toes. You compromise where you must. The Neighbors Not Enemies Act? That feels toothless in a real crisis—bad guys don’t care about your liberties.

Anjali Mehta

Maybe, but isn’t the point to question whether fear justifies sweeping executive power? Legislation like Senator Hirono’s aims to repeal these outdated, dangerous laws. Critics warn invoking them could deepen divisions, fuel racial profiling, and erode public trust in government.

Duke Johnson

Hirono’s bill, the Neighbors Act or whatever? Not holding my breath. You strip tools like this from the president, are you really ready for the fallout if something slips through? The enemy doesn’t wait for lawmakers to catch up, Anjali.

Anjali Mehta

And yet, history reminds us of the cost of unchecked power. Reparations given to survivors of Japanese internment, formal apologies from Congress—there’s so much evidence that these moves don’t age well. Why court that kind of moral fallout again?

Duke Johnson

Because hindsight’s twenty-twenty. Decisions aren’t always pretty, but they can’t always be avoided. And let’s face it, governments are wired to respond to emergencies first, ethics later. Maybe it’s not perfect, but it’s reality.

Anjali Mehta

Still, Duke, do you think we’ve really accounted for the lessons of the past? Executive overreach, prejudice masquerading as policy—these aren’t just risks, they’re flaws we’ve seen play out time and again. How do we ensure folks pushing national security narratives don’t weaponize history as an excuse?

Duke Johnson

You don’t eliminate the tools, Anjali. You regulate the user. Policies can evolve. Leaders adapt to their times—hopefully smarter, more calculated. But ditching this? It’s reckless. You don’t dismantle your defenses mid-fight.

Anjali Mehta

But maybe defending liberty is the fight, right? We’ve seen legislative debates today echo Jefferson’s warnings—liberty deserves protection, especially during crises. That struggle to balance national security and civil rights is ongoing, and it will define us in history, Duke.

Duke Johnson

Fair point. But let’s not sugarcoat it—whether we like it or not, everything comes down to survival and risk assessment. No policy pleases everyone.

Anjali Mehta

And that’s the tightrope, Duke. Repeals, reforms, and the shadows of past mistakes—they weave into today’s decisions. But one thing’s certain: history’s watching, and so are the people living with these policies. Let’s hope we weigh those costs wisely.

Duke Johnson

Time’ll tell, Anjali. Time always tells.

Anjali Mehta

And on that note, we leave it there. Thank you to our listeners—join us again for yet another journey through history, law, and the ongoing quest for justice and reason. Until next time, take care.