The phrase “America First” is often presented as a modern political slogan, but historically it is not new. Variations of the phrase appeared in U.S. political rhetoric as early as the nineteenth century, particularly in nativist movements that opposed immigration and foreign influence. The slogan became nationally prominent in 1940 with the creation of the America First Committee, a political organization formed to oppose U.S. involvement in World War II.

At its peak, the America First Committee had roughly 800,000 members and hundreds of chapters across the United States. Its central message was isolationism, the belief that the United States should remain outside European conflicts. Yet the rhetoric surrounding the movement often went beyond simple non-interventionism. Some of its most prominent voices framed the debate in terms of protecting American civilization from foreign influence.

One of the movement’s most visible advocates was Charles Lindbergh. In a widely criticized speech delivered in Des Moines in 1941, Lindbergh warned that “the British, the Jewish, and the Roosevelt administration” were pushing the United States toward war. He also argued that Americans should preserve what he described as their “inheritance of European blood.” Historians have widely documented the speech as containing antisemitic rhetoric and racialized appeals to national identity.

Although the United States ultimately entered World War II and the America First Committee dissolved soon afterward, the political logic behind the slogan did not disappear. In the early Cold War period, a similar politics of suspicion resurfaced during the era known as McCarthyism. Named after Senator Joseph McCarthy, this period was marked by congressional investigations into alleged communist influence in government, universities, labor unions, and the entertainment industry.

Historians describe McCarthyism as part of the broader Second Red Scare, during which suspicion extended beyond espionage concerns to include intellectuals, immigrants, activists, and artists whose views were considered politically suspect. Thousands of Americans lost their jobs or reputations after being accused of disloyalty. At the same time, federal investigations targeted LGBTQ government employees in what scholars now call the Lavender Scare. The underlying political pattern was familiar: national identity and national security were used as frameworks for defining who belonged and who did not.

Debates about national belonging have continued into the present. In recent years, the slogan “America First” re-entered mainstream political discourse during the presidency of Donald Trump. While the historical context differs from the 1940s, scholars and political analysts have noted echoes of earlier nationalist rhetoric emphasizing protection of national identity, immigration restriction, and skepticism toward international alliances.

Immigration policy has been one of the most visible arenas where these tensions have played out. In January 2026, national protests erupted following the fatal shooting of Renee Good, a 37-year-old mother of three who was killed by a federal immigration officer during an operation in Minneapolis. Video footage of the incident circulated widely, and the case quickly became the focus of nationwide demonstrations and political controversy.

Good had dropped her child off at school shortly before the encounter with federal agents. She was later pronounced dead after being shot during the operation, which occurred amid an expanded immigration enforcement effort in the city.

Her death intensified an already volatile national debate over immigration enforcement and the role of federal agencies such as U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). Members of Congress from both parties called for investigations, while protests spread across multiple cities demanding accountability and changes to enforcement practices.

The Minneapolis case was not the only incident fueling public concern. Reporting in early 2026 documented multiple deaths connected to encounters with immigration enforcement or detention operations, adding to a broader debate over the scale and tactics of federal immigration policy.

These events have unfolded alongside wider concerns about domestic extremism and political polarization. U.S. national security agencies, including the Federal Bureau of Investigation and the Department of Homeland Security, have repeatedly identified racially motivated violent extremism, particularly white supremacist violence, as the most persistent domestic terrorism threat facing the United States.

At the same time, demographic realities complicate nationalist arguments that frame immigration primarily as a threat. The United States currently faces a fertility rate significantly below replacement level, meaning the country is not producing enough births to sustain long-term population stability without immigration. Research conducted by the National Academies of Sciences and projections by the Congressional Budget Office indicate that immigration contributes substantially to population growth, workforce expansion, and long-term economic stability.

These demographic and economic findings highlight a persistent contradiction in nationalist rhetoric. While slogans such as “America First” often frame immigrants as outsiders threatening the nation’s stability, economic analysis consistently shows that immigration plays a central role in sustaining the country’s labor force and long-term growth.

Throughout American history, debates about national identity have returned again and again to the same central question: who counts as part of the American story? From early immigration restrictions and segregation laws to civil rights movements that expanded citizenship and voting rights, the boundaries of belonging have continually shifted.

The historical record shows that the United States has never been defined by a single fixed identity. Instead, its political development has been shaped by ongoing debates about inclusion, equality, and democratic participation.

Seen in this broader context, the slogan “America First” reflects one side of a much longer national argument: a vision of the country rooted in protection, exclusion, and cultural preservation. The alternative vision that has repeatedly emerged in American history emphasizes expansion rather than restriction: expanding citizenship, expanding rights, and expanding the definition of who belongs.

That question appears in popular culture as well. In the 2024 film Civil War, a militia member portrayed by Jesse Plemons confronts a group of journalists and asks a chilling question: “What kind of American are you?” The moment captures the central danger behind slogans built around exclusionary definitions of national identity. Once belonging becomes conditional, the question of who counts as “American” can be turned against anyone.

For more than a century, a different vision of the country has been engraved on the Statue of Liberty in Emma Lazarus’s 1883 poem The New Colossus:

“Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door.”

En español:

“Dadme a vuestros cansados, a vuestros pobres,

A vuestras masas hacinadas que anhelan respirar en libertad,

A los desechados de vuestras costas superpobladas.

Enviadme a los desamparados, sacudidos por la tormenta;

¡Yo elevo mi lámpara junto a la puerta dorada!”

Those lines reflect a competing definition of the American idea, one rooted not in exclusion, but in the belief that the nation grows stronger when it remains open to those seeking freedom, dignity, and a place to belong.