Modern citizenship presents different characteristics. After the fall of the Roman Empire, the ancient model of citizenship gave way to entirely new forms of social and political organization, shaped by feudal and ecclesiastical authority across the continent. Then, after eighteenth- and nineteenth-century revolutions shattered this ancien régime, it became common for historians to view the replacement of outdated hierarchies with modern citizenship as a revival of an ancient type. But any resemblance between ancient and modern citizenship should not be overstated. It’s more accurate to see modern citizenship as new wine in an old bottle.
Whereas ancient citizenship was the prerogative of a privileged few, modern citizenship is regarded as a universal right to which everyone is entitled. It is the means by which we look to ensure our individual rights and protections; consequently, it is instrumental in a way that its ancient counterpart was not. True, one can see attempts to reproduce the classical ethos of citizenship in, say, Adam Smith’s exhortation that “he is certainly not a good citizen who does not wish to promote, by every means in his power, the welfare of the whole society of his fellow-citizens.” Yet the prevailing modern sensibility emphasizes benefits over obligations and severs the link between citizenship and military service. Citizenship is primarily understood as a status that confers entitlements.
Modern citizenship also has a decidedly administrative quality. In place of sacred duties, buttressed by honor and shame, we have passports. As the political anthropologist James Scott has observed, “If you wish to have any standing in law, you must have a document that officials accept as evidence of citizenship, be that document a birth certificate, passport, or identity card.” Yet this formalism introduces greater flexibility, making citizenship more fluid. Whereas classical citizenship was a birthright, modern citizenship—through passports—can be assigned, revoked, or replaced.