The New York Times, in the grand tradition of exploring the psychological drama behind criminal behavior, recently tried to make hay out of alleged Boston Marathon bomber Tamerlan Tsarnaev’s “stalled” application for U.S. citizenship.
In “A Battered Dream, Then a Violent Path,” writers Deborah Sontag, David M. Herszenhorn, and Serge F. Kovaleski assert that being barred from the 2010 national Tournament of Champions because the 23-year-old Tsarnaev was not a U.S. citizen was “a blow the immigrant boxer could not withstand.”
Okay, let’s back up here. Why wasn’t Tsarnaev a U.S. citizen already? A green card holder (which Tsarnaev was) can apply to naturalize at age 18, after spending at least five years in the United States. According to a CNN timeline, Tsarnaev entered the U.S. in 2003. So if he’d wanted to apply for citizenship before 2010 — a prudent thing to do for anyone pursuing opportunities within the U.S. — one would think he could have.
The NYT article says that Tsarnaev still had a year to wait (until 2011) before being eligible to apply to naturalize, though it unfortunately doesn’t explain why. Meanwhile, the L.A. Times suggests that Tsarnaev may have made a 2009 bid for citizenship. It states that Toronto-based photographer and scientist Johannes Hirn published a photo essay called ‘Will Box for Passport’ showing the young man training for the U.S. Olympic team and stating that he “hoped to become a naturalized U.S. citizen by earning a place on the team.”
True, that’s not exactly conclusive evidence of an application. If boxing his way to citizenship was Tsarnaev’s hope, he probably should have spoken to a lawyer first. Joining the Olympic team is not a prerequisite for citizenship. Submitting an application on Form N-400 and passing a test and interview, as well as showing good moral character, is.
But if Tsarnaev had submitted an N-400 in 2009, it could easily have been denied; perhaps for lack of good moral character. Tsarnaev had a 2009 arrest on his record, for — speaking of battered dreams — domestic abuse and battery, after allegedly assaulting his girlfriend. The charges were ultimately dismissed, so they wouldn’t have had any direct legal affect on his application for citizenship. But Tsarnaev would have had to disclose the arrest on his N-400 application, and it wouldn’t exactly have bolstered the “good moral character” that was his obligation to show.
The New York Times article goes on to state that Tsarnaev submitted a citizenship application a couple of years later, in September of 2012. It refers to that application as having been “stalled” — though the seven months he’d waited by the time of his death is hardly out of the ordinary. Many immigrants wait a year or more after submitting Form N-400 to be called in for their citizenship interview. The average time in the Boston office is five months, as anyone can check on the following website:
The New York Times and other reports state, however, that Tsarnaev’s N-400 filing led to investigations in 2013 by federal law enforcement agencies, curious about his travels to Russia and warnings about him that came straight from Russian security agencies. So if his activities in Russia were as suspicious as they seem to have been, a “stalled” application for citizenship was the least of his worries — Tsarnaev should have been worried about deportation from the U.S. on criminal grounds. (See the “Crimes and U.S. Immigration” page of Nolo’s website.)
All in all, the facts surrounding Tsarnaev’s bid for U.S. citizenship are a bit thin. But the one thing that seems clear is that this is, at best, a minor case of an immigrant being stymied by the system. The worst hurdles Tsarnaev apparently faced were a boxing tournament that was only open to U.S. citizens and an opportunity for citizenship that was only a matter of months away — if he hadn’t messed things up.