RTL met Daniel Atz at Pescatore Park on a grey, damp afternoon at the end of November. The US–Luxembourg dual national is back in the country for a few days ahead of the premiere of his documentary about Luxembourg descendants in Argentina.
Despite holding Luxembourg nationality, Atz admits he still feels slightly uneasy describing himself as Luxembourgish. Part of the reason, he says, is that he has never managed to properly master the language, despite taking several expensive courses. He jokes that he has never progressed beyond a very basic level. And yet, he speaks fluent English, Portuguese, and Mandarin.
The story began in Paris, where Atz studied European economic law. The Nebraska native quickly developed a fondness for life in Europe and was determined to find a way to return, not just as a student or tourist.
That opportunity came through Luxembourg’s 2017 nationality law, which, until the end of last year, allowed foreign nationals to reclaim Luxembourg citizenship if they could prove direct descent from someone who had been Luxembourgish in 1900.
Atz was fortunate: his great-grandmother, Marguerite Kruchten, was born in Esch-sur-Alzette. After marrying an American, she emigrated to Kansas following the First World War, where the couple started a family.
Growing up, Atz knew little about Luxembourg beyond a handful of childhood stories, including tales about the Diderich bookshop in Esch. He recalls that his mother visited the country in 1981, without fully realising it was an independent state. As a result, Luxembourg was little more than an abstract idea in his early years, he says.
That changed in 2017, when an RTL television report about his citizenship journey led to an unexpected family reunion. During the programme, Atz shared photographs of his Luxembourgish great-grandmother. By chance, her niece Annette recognised the images. Through RTL, contact was established, and Atz discovered living relatives in the Grand Duchy.
Since then, he has spent several Christmases with his Luxembourgish family, he says warmly, adding that they are the people he calls in moments of joy and in times of difficulty. He speaks with visible emotion about the loss of Annette, whom he considered his “Luxembourgish grandmother”, and who passed away in 2023.
Atz describes himself as deeply grateful to have found a second family in Luxembourg. He says he is proud of his origins and relieved to hold dual nationality. In Luxembourg, he feels that society still looks after the individual, something he fears is increasingly absent in the US. Being Luxembourgish, he says, gives him both a sense of security and a sense of pride. He adds that a society’s values are important to him.
The 37-year-old has spent much of the past decade in Europe but returned to New York a year ago. How long he will remain there remains uncertain.
When Atz obtained Luxembourg nationality in 2014, few anticipated the political shifts that would follow in the United States. Demand for Luxembourg citizenship began to rise during Donald Trump’s first term as president. Through his platform luxcitizenship.com, Atz started helping applicants navigate the process.
Atz says that with Trump’s return to the White House in 2025, requests have increased dramatically. Many inquiries now come from members of the LGBT community, but also from a broad cross-section of Americans, he explained.
Atz also points out that motivations have evolved. He says that, previously, many applicants sought to honour an emotional link to a deceased parent or grandparent. Now, Atz observes, values play a greater role.
Atz explains that some people feel the social and political principles they grew up with are no longer reflected in the US, while others mention Luxembourg’s economic model, believing it offers greater stability and opportunity for their children.
Despite earning a living from advising applicants, Atz is openly critical of certain aspects of the system. Over the years, around 30,000 Brazilians and 20,000 Americans have obtained Luxembourg citizenship through ancestry without ever residing in the country. In theory, he notes, that could mean tens of thousands of people from other continents may one day decide to relocate to the Grand Duchy.
He is particularly concerned about individuals who may rush into emigrating without fully understanding what life in Luxembourg, or Europe, entails. Some sell their homes, cars, and withdraw their children from school despite never having set foot on the European continent, Atz says. Such decisions, he warns, can place families in financially vulnerable situations.
He says he has had frank conversations with certain clients, advising them to think carefully, particularly where children are concerned.
Atz also raises another sensitive issue: the reality that some Brazilian citizens holding Luxembourg passports have used visa-free travel arrangements, such as ESTA, to enter the United States and remain there illegally. In the current political climate, he says, this is worrying.
While acknowledging the benefits of the nationality programme, including the approximately 2,000 Brazilians who have moved to Luxembourg and contributed through entrepreneurship and innovation, Atz believes a broader societal discussion is needed.
Granting nationality, he argues, is not just a legal procedure but also a question of integration and shared values. Atz suggests that the debate should focus on the question of the meaning of being Luxembourgish, and on how a small country should integrate potentially large numbers of new citizens with different beliefs and educational backgrounds.
Atz believes it is important to open a dialogue with the “New Luxembourgers”. He points out that in Brazil and Argentina, there are already several organisations in which these new citizens are actively involved.
His documentary, Luxembourgers in Argentina, explores these questions through personal stories. Some descendants have maintained an authentic emotional connection to Luxembourg. Others discovered their roots more recently, often through genealogical research during the pandemic.
For Atz himself, the journey has been both personal and political, a search for identity that continues to evolve between continents.
