US Legislation: The Risks of Generalization and Historical Lessons

History is showing its troubling patterns once again, as Riley Moore’s proposal to categorize an entire ethnic group evokes the same dangerous profiling America should have moved beyond. In human history, we have seen fear, political manipulation, and lazy generalizations converge to create legislation that punishes entire communities rather than individual offenders. Such instances include the Alien Enemies Act of 1798, the Slave Codes of the antebellum South, and Executive Order 9066, which led to the internment of over 112,000 Japanese Americans, most of whom were citizens, based solely on their heritage.

Today, a similar tragedy is unfolding, led by Moore, a former welder turned Congressman from West Virginia. While no one opposes the identification of actual criminals or terrorists, the real issue lies in Moore’s Nigeria Religious Freedom and Accountability Act of 2026, which is not about justice. It represents collective punishment. The bill weaponizes legislation to demonize an entire ethnic identity encompassing dozens of nations and millions of peaceful, accomplished individuals.

The implications of this ethnic labeling are concerning. The legislation suggests that the U.S. Secretary of State should consider designating 'Fulani ethnic militias' as a Foreign Terrorist Organization. However, this phrasing is dangerously vague. When you formalize a terrorism designation for an entire tribe in U.S. law, you do not target criminals, you tarnish an entire race. This is a historical lesson we must heed.

When President Franklin D. Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9066 in 1942, the justification was claimed to be 'military necessity.' As a result, Japanese Americans faced internment and loss of property, not due to proven disloyalty—since not a single one was ever found guilty of espionage—but because of their ancestry and appearance. It took forty-six years and an apology from Ronald Reagan to acknowledge the grave wrongs perpetrated against these citizens.

The Slave Codes that were enacted in colonial America defined enslaved individuals as property, forbidding them from reading, gathering, or owning land. They treated an entire race as inherently suspicious, with echoes of these laws still manifesting in systemic inequities today. Yet now, Moore, who previously worked as a lobbyist, seeks to initiate a new chapter of shame, this time targeting the Fulani.

So who are the Fulanis? They are not a militia nor a terrorist collective but one of Africa's largest ethnic groups, estimated to comprise between 25 and 40 million individuals across the Sahel and West Africa, from Senegal to Sudan and Cameroon to Chad. The Fulani community includes pastoralists, settled farmers, scholars, and merchants, with numerous political leaders, including presidents and prime ministers, arising from their ranks.

Consider the prominent figures that Moore’s bill associates with terrorism: Ahmadou Ahidjo, the inaugural President of Cameroon; Macky Sall, a former President of Senegal; Umaro Sissoco Embaló of Guinea-Bissau; Shehu Shagari and Muhammadu Buhari from Nigeria; and Amina J. Mohammed, the Deputy Secretary- General of the United Nations. Are these individuals terrorists? It is an absurd notion, yet according to Moore’s framework, due to the existence of some criminals in various ethnic groups, the entire Fulani populace is designated as suspect. This fails to represent counter-terrorism; it is institutionalized ethnic profiling.

The bill also unjustly targets Senator Rabiu Musa Kwankwaso, a former governor of Kano State and presidential aspirant, not based on credible evidence of violence but for opposing Moore’s views publicly. When the US labeled Nigeria as a 'Country of Particular Concern,' Kwankwaso responded constructively by urging the Nigerian government to enhance diplomatic relations, advocating that foreign criticism should not deepen divisions in a multi-religious society. His ‘crime’ was standing up for Nigeria’s sovereignty.

Moore accused him of complicity in violence against Christians, citing the adoption of Sharia law in Kano two decades ago, as if implementing federal constitutional law in a majority Muslim state equates to supporting genocide.

Under Kwankwaso’s administration, Kano State successfully confronted Boko Haram, preventing them from garnering influence there, allowing Christians to worship freely. No evidence has been presented linking him to any religious persecution.

What is taking place is not a pursuit of accountability, but retaliation. A foreign legislator is leveraging the power of the U.S. Congress to punish a Nigerian politician over a social media dispute. If this is the standard for judging terrorist acts, the whole process is not just flawed but a farce.

Meanwhile, the Miyetti Allah Cattle Breeders Association of Nigeria (MACBAN), a legitimate trade association established for over forty years, has also been included in this legislation. Contrary to being a militant group, MACBAN is democratically governed and operates across all 36 Nigerian states, collaborating with security agencies to address crime, often at the cost of its leaders’ lives.

As noted by MACBAN’s National President Baba Othman Ngelzarma, 'This is an association that has never taken responsibility for any crime and has consistently denounced criminal activity. Our accounts are open to public scrutiny.'

MACBAN has provided detailed reports to the U.S. Embassy outlining their advocacy for peace and the challenges faced by their members—reports that went largely unacknowledged.

What more must a peaceful association do to maintain its integrity? Must it disavow its identity or disband simply because its members share ethnicity with perpetrators of violence?

This legislation poses a threat not just to the Fulani, but to Nigeria as a whole. If one ethnic group can be stigmatized through foreign legislation, no community is immune from similar treatment. Today, it might be the Fulani; tomorrow, it could be the Igbo, Yoruba, Ijaw, or Tiv. The implications of this precedent are dangerous as it opens the door for any political faction to exploit human rights rhetoric for partisan purposes. Hence, this moment calls for a cohesive response. We urge all Nigerians, irrespective of tribe, faith, or political alignment, to reject this bill vehemently. Let there be no misunderstanding: this is not about shielding criminals but about upholding the principle that guilt belongs to individuals, not to entire communities.

We recommend the Nigerian federal government engage in high-level talks with the United States, presenting evidence, insisting on due process, and emphasizing that Nigeria's security challenges are multifaceted and cannot be simplified to portray a singular ethnic threat. We implore religious leaders, both Christian and Muslim, to unite in opposition to this perilous path, asserting that religious freedom is a common cause, not a tool for external interference. The African Union and ECOWAS should recognize that this bill sets a concerning precedent for the continent. If a transnational community like the Fulani can be labeled terrorists by a congressional act, what prevents similar treatment for others?

We call upon U.S. Congress members to remember their nation’s sad history with ethnic profiling. They have acknowledged past injustices linked to Japanese internment and the excesses of the Alien Enemies Act—let that not be repeated. Discard this bill. Remove the names of legitimate organizations and esteemed political figures from its reach. Ensure human rights policies are based on facts, not social media statements.

In conclusion, the architects of this legislation may believe they are advocating for religious freedom, yet they are undermining fairness. They are capitalizing on the real suffering of Christian communities in Nigeria to promote a narrative that serves neither peace nor justice.

Ultimately, they will not succeed. The Fulani cannot be erased by legislation. They have endured through empires, colonialism, and harsh climates, contributing scholars, leaders, and peacemakers to the world. They will outlast the ignorance of a freshman Congressman from West Virginia.

Despite Nigeria’s challenges, it retains a rich tapestry of intermarriages, faith cooperation, and ethnic solidarity that is lived daily. The same nation that gave rise to Ahmadu Ahidjo and Amina Mohammed also nurtures Christians and Muslims who coexist peacefully in cities like Abuja, Lagos, and Kaduna.

History has no mercy for those who replicate its gravest mistakes. The Alien Enemies Act stands as a reminder of failure in national security, while the Slave Codes are remembered as cautionary tales. Executive Order 9066 has become associated with apologies and the concept of reparations.

Riley Moore’s name may soon be added to that list, but like the Japanese Americans who rebuilt their lives and like the descendants of enslaved Africans still pursuing justice, the Fulani will persevere. This will not be the first instance of powerful societal fears attempting to define us, nor will it be the last. Yet we remain, and we will continue to do so.