This article by Nazeeha Saaed was first published on Muwatin on October 2, 2025. This edited version is published on Global Voices as part of a content-sharing agreement. 

This post is also part of Global Voices’ July 2026 Spotlight series, “Statelessness.” This series offers insight into the issue of statelessness and how it hinders people’s freedom of movement, educational opportunities, political access, and more. You can support this coverage by donating here.

The denial or revocation of nationality in the Gulf states is a political practice shaped by each state’s internal dynamics and governance style. It reflects the failure to uphold human rights, chief among them, the equal right of every individual to acquire a nationality and never be arbitrarily deprived of it.

In 2025, Kuwait passed amendments to its Nationality Law, making it easier to revoke Kuwaiti nationality. In parallel, the country launched a broad campaign to review nationality acquisition. Through the Supreme Committee for Verifying Kuwaiti Nationality, more than 42,000 people have reportedly had their citizenship revoked since 2024 — an unprecedented escalation.

The campaign has targeted naturalized citizens, dual nationals, and those accused of acquiring nationality fraudulently. Many affected are women who acquired Kuwaiti nationality through marriage under Article 8 of the law, which has now been repealed. These revocations were carried out without judicial oversight or avenues for appeal, raising serious legal and human rights concerns.

Many of those stripped of their nationality are now stateless, deprived of access to essential services like healthcare, education, and employment. Their identity documents and passports are confiscated, effectively curtailing their freedom of movement and participation in public life.

Kuwait’s Bidoon population has faced statelessness since the country’s founding, leading to profound economic and social marginalization, with many struggling to access education, healthcare, and employment because of their lack of an official identity.

Khadija, a Bidoon woman from Kuwait born into a family of 10, realized early on that her family lacked the privileges others enjoyed. When she was in primary school, she and her sister were forced to stay home because the family could not afford tuition fees, despite public education being free for Kuwaiti citizens.

“We stayed home and studied using last year’s textbooks until the time came when my sister and I had to help our struggling family,” Khadija recalls. “We worked to save money for bunk beds like our brothers had, and for school fees the following year. I longed to run, play, and draw like other girls. But our little project irritated a municipal employee, or so he claimed. He threatened us — and that ended our business.”