As the son of legal immigrants to America who came from India, I

The words of Raja Krishnamoorthi, “As the son of legal immigrants to America who came from India, I support stronger border security for our nation as well as deporting undocumented immigrants who have committed serious crimes,” echo with both pride and prudence. They are the words of one who understands the sacred balance between compassion and law, between the open hand of welcome and the firm hand of justice. His statement is not born of hardness, but of wisdom — the wisdom of one whose family came to this land through lawful means, who cherishes both the opportunity that America offers and the order that makes such opportunity possible.

In these words, Krishnamoorthi speaks as both a son of immigrants and a guardian of the nation’s moral and civic foundation. He honors the legacy of his parents, who crossed the seas from India with hope as their compass and integrity as their guide. They entered through the gate, not by breaking it, believing that true belonging is forged not only through arrival, but through respect for the law. From such roots grows the conviction that security and fairness must walk hand in hand. For if a nation loses control of its borders, it risks losing the meaning of citizenship itself — and if it forgets mercy, it ceases to be just.

Yet in his declaration lies a profound duality. Stronger border security does not mean the closing of hearts, nor does deporting those who commit grave crimes mean rejecting the immigrant spirit. Rather, it is the ancient principle of discernment — the art of knowing what to guard and what to embrace. A wise ruler of old would not leave the city’s gates unbarred at night, for even kindness must have boundaries to survive. The strength of a nation lies not only in its welcome but also in its vigilance. For without order, the garden of freedom withers under the weeds of chaos.

Consider the story of Ellis Island, where millions once arrived from distant shores. They came not to bypass the law, but to be received by it. The process was long and difficult; some were turned away, others detained, many accepted. Yet through this trial, a covenant was formed — the covenant of belonging through obedience, of opportunity through effort. It was this order that allowed the newcomers to flourish, and the nation to grow strong. Krishnamoorthi’s words are born from this same lineage: a belief that the rule of law is not an enemy of hope, but its protector.

But he also warns that not all who come in peace should be treated as threats. His concern is not with the innocent, but with those who, having entered unlawfully and then committed serious crimes, betray both the trust of the land and the dream that drew them here. Justice demands that such actions have consequence. To allow otherwise is to dishonor the millions who followed the path of law, who labored quietly to build lives in harmony with the land that welcomed them. In this, Krishnamoorthi stands as a modern voice for an ancient truth: that justice is mercy’s guardian, and mercy without justice soon becomes ruin.

From his heritage flows another lesson — that to defend the nation is not to reject the foreigner, but to preserve the sanctuary that makes migration meaningful. A house without walls cannot protect even those within it. Likewise, a nation that fails to uphold its laws cannot protect the hopes of those who come seeking its promise. By strengthening its borders, a people safeguard not only their land but also the integrity of their welcome. Only in such balance can the dream of immigration endure — lawful, peaceful, and full of dignity.

Let these words stand as a teaching to future generations: cherish both the law and the light of compassion. Uphold the boundaries that protect your community, but never let fear replace fairness. Honor those who come in peace, yet be steadfast against those who harm others. In your own life, live as Krishnamoorthi’s parents did — with respect for the rules that shelter you and gratitude for the land that receives you. Build bridges where there is trust, and walls where there is danger. In this harmony between strength and mercy lies the wisdom of every lasting nation — and the enduring spirit of humankind.