On March 1, President Donald Trump signed an executive order naming English as the official language of the United States — as if slapping a linguistic Band-Aid on centuries of cultural complexity could somehow unite us. While roughly 30 states had already declared English as their official language, this move feels less like a harmless formalization and more like a curtain call for diversity, masked by promises of “unity” — another penny dropped into the jar for performative patriotism.
“To promote unity, streamline communication, and reinforce shared values,” Trump said, conveniently forgetting that the U.S. has never thrived because of sameness, but despite it. The English-only ideology is nothing new: There was the English-Only Movement of 1795 and the Language Unity Act of 2005, both just dressed-up versions of the same outdated desire for a homogenous America. But this time, instead of being a passively floating motivation, it’s in executive ink.
The real issue isn’t the language on paper — it’s the subtext. Trump’s order counters Executive Order 13166, signed by former President Bill Clinton in 2000, which protected the improvement of language access in government service. While it doesn’t repeal the access, it doesn’t reinforce it either. It opens the door for government agencies to quietly pull the plug on interpretation services in courts, hospitals, schools and airports without accounting for it. It is a neat little loophole to sidestep multilingual equity.
This policy aligns seamlessly with Trump’s ongoing crusade against immigrants. His administration’s relentless efforts to slash and erase “illegal aliens” have been well-documented: from revoking legal status for over 500,000 immigrants to invoking the Alien Enemies Act of 1798, to facilitating mass deportations without due process. Fascinatingly, Trump recently claimed he “didn’t sign” the proclamation, despite his signature appearing on it and the Office of the Federal Register confirming its legitimacy. Declaring English as the official language is another brick in this exclusionary wall, subtly signaling that linguistic conformity is now a prerequisite for belonging.
And then there’s Puerto Rico — perpetually the inconvenient exception to the American rulebook. We ask for statehood; we get shrugged off. We speak Spanish; we’re told to assimilate. In a 2015 debate, Trump mocked Jeb Bush for campaigning in Spanish, saying, “This is a country where we speak English.” That swipe wasn’t just at Bush; it reflected a broader disdain for bilingualism, one that conveniently ignores the 95% of U.S. citizens in Puerto Rico who function in Spanish every day. If unity means erasing entire identities, then maybe it’s not unity at all, just a costume change for control.
The order claims that “speaking English not only opens doors economically,” as if bilingualism hasn’t already been a cornerstone of success for millions — especially Puerto Ricans, who navigate between Spanish and English while still being treated as second-tier citizens. If the real goal is economic opportunity, where does that leave Puerto Rico? Our island is supposedly part of this nation, yet economic policies have long proven that our value is measured by how much others can extract from us, not how much we contribute. From the Jones Act strangling our shipping options to tax incentives that cater more to outside investors than our own people, we are economically exploited while linguistically sidelined. The narrative that English unlocks prosperity is a cruel joke when Puerto Rico — fully “American” and functionally bilingual — is left out of that prosperity time and time again.
Timing, as they say, is everything. So, why this? Why now? Amid pressing issues like potential economic recessions, climate change and threats to peace and security, focusing on an official language seems like blow-drying your hair while the house is on fire. It’s a distraction, a political misdirection designed to divert attention from more pressing matters. By stirring the pot of cultural division, the administration shifts the spotlight away from its shortcomings and onto a manufactured problem.
Supporters claim this order is just about “streamlining” and won’t stop the use of other languages and maybe technically, it won’t. But the message is loud and clear: English is the gold standard, and everything else is just background noise. That kind of symbolism isn’t harmless. It fuels the idea that other languages and the people who speak them, are secondary. Even if services stay multilingual, the favoritism embedded in the policy sends a signal about who this country is truly for.
Languages are not static; they evolve, adapt and intermingle. If this is really about linguistic “cohesion,” shouldn’t we first check if the person imposing it can speak it properly? If Trump is the North Star of English proficiency, then Merriam Webster’s got some serious re-editing to do. Language isn’t the enemy of unity — ignorance is. Instead of enforcing monolingualism, we should celebrate the symphony of languages that contribute to the American narrative. Diversity has always been the pulse of this country, whether policymakers like it or not. Trying to stitch together a nation with one thread will only unravel the fabric further.
