State making in nineteenth-century colonial settings involved contests over the configuration of plural legal systems. Colonial powers limited the jurisdiction of colonial courts and adopted complex, shifting rules for the articulation of imposed and indigenous law. The politics of legal pluralism in such settings became tied to discourse about cultural difference as groups challenged or justified jurisdictional boundaries by reference to the cultural characteristics of various colonial constituencies. The process of ordering legal authorities and assigning political identities reinforced the authority of incipient colonial states and emphasized the differences between colonial and metropolitan law.

Less than two years after the United States occupied New Mexico, Acoma Pueblo accused its neighbors in Laguna Pueblo of misappropriating a painting of Saint Joseph. The Indians of Acoma claimed that they had loaned the picture to the pueblo of Laguna for the purpose of celebrating Holy Week, but Laguna had subsequently refused to return it. The large oil painting on canvas, which portrayed the standing figure of Joseph holding the baby Jesus, was said to have been sent to New Mexico by Carlos II, king of Spain from 1665 to 1700. Both pueblos claimed rightful ownership of the picture, both said that missionaries with the early Spanish conquerors had brought them the oil painting from Spain, and both asserted that the painting was necessary for their religious worship. It was believed that the painting of Saint Joseph, or San José, as he was referred to throughout the legal documents, worked miracles for its possessor. Most important to the pueblos was the belief that the painting brought life-sustaining rain to the parched agricultural lands that provided their main source of food.

On December 23, 1912, a Hungarian father brought his three young daughters (ages three, five, and seven) to the Cook County Juvenile Court to file dependent petitions on their behalf. He alleged that their mother had deserted the family, stolen their savings, and disappeared. As a single father, he could have and probably did argue that it was unreasonable to expect him to work and to raise his young children simultaneously. On Christmas Eve, after a six-man jury found each girl to be a “dependent child,” Judge Merritt Pinckney ordered them committed to the Lisle Industrial School and arranged for their father to pay $15 a month for their support. Thus, the single father had used the juvenile court to arrange for a private institution to raise his now motherless children, who because they were the same gender were at least allowed to grow up together in the same industrial school.

Modern citizenship—understood in terms of the formal legal distinction between “citizen” and “alien”—functions as a barrier to the individual's territorial rights. In other words, it determines whether a given individual does or does not enjoy unimpeded rights of access to, and presence within, the territory that the state calls its own. In this capacity, it is wielded efficiently, systematically, and even brutally against individuals who seek to fashion better lives for themselves by moving into, or remaining within, the territories of states other than their “own.” In the contemporary West, entirely as a matter of routine, millions are kept out of, and removed from, the territories of states on the ground that they are not citizens of the states in question.

Kunal Parker's “State, Citizenship, and Territory” can be read in at least two ways. Read one way, it tells an important story about how regulation of the poor was driven upward in Massachusetts during the nineteenth century, from the localities to the state. In the seventeenth century, Massachusetts had imposed primary responsibility for care of the poor on its towns. But during the eighteenth century, with the growth of a landless, wandering population, town poor relief budgets came under increasing pressure. The towns responded by lobbying the Massachusetts legislature to pass a series of statutes that made it more and more difficult to acquire a town settlement. People who fell into need in Massachusetts but who had not acquired a town settlement became state paupers for whom the state, rather than any town, was fiscally responsible. As it became more and more difficult to acquire a town settlement, the number of state paupers increased, shifting a portion of the fiscal burden of poor relief from the towns onto the state.

Robert Steinfeld suggests that my article might be read in two entirely distinct ways—as a narrative of centralization, about which he is mildly enthusiastic, and as a narrative of citizenship, about which he is distinctly unenthusiastic. In my view, Steinfeld's understanding of citizenship, an understanding sharply at odds with my own, drives most of the criticisms he levels against the narrative of citizenship presented in the article.