Open Discussions/ Gulf Cultural Club
* Sayed Ahmed Al Wadaei (Director of Advocacy at the Bahrain Institute
for Rights & Democracy)
** Dr Saeed Shehabi (journalist, Founder of the Bahrain Freedom Movement)
***Karen Dabrowska (journalist, writer, co-organizer of Open Discussions
Article 15 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights states: “Everyone has the right to a nationality, no one shall be arbitrarily deprived of his nationality.” But authoritarian regimes have weaponized nationality to silence dissidents by revoking it. The 1954 Convention relating to the Status of Stateless Persons and the 1961 Convention on the Reduction of Statelessness are the key international conventions which UNHCR encourages countries to sign. Open Discussions will discuss the provisions in international law to safeguard individuals from being made stateless.
Tuesday 19th May, 2026
Karen Dabrowska: The topic of our discussion meeting, is weaponizing nationality to silence dissidents. We invited Abbas Naworozzadeh a senior solicitor at Eldwick Law who has represented victims of human rights abuses who have had their nationality revoked. Sadly Abbas can’t be with us as he had an urgent case and is busy at the police station. He kindly suggested his colleague Mansoor Fazli who has dealt with deprivation of citizenship matters but he is another busy man with cases on his plate as is Richard Bartram from the Migrant Law Partnership who represented Bedoon– stateless people in Kuwait. The decision in this case remains the country guidance decision on statelessness and persecution of the Bedoon in Kuwait.
I am no expert on this subject so I will just say a few words about provisions in international law to protect against statelessness and give a few examples of people who have had their nationality revoked. We will hear in detail about the victims and what is happening in the Gulf states from Sayed Al Wadaei and Dr Saeed Shehabi and members of the audience who have had their nationality revoked.
I remember when I got my British citizenship in 1996 and I did some research on whether it could be revoked and discovered it could for treason, piracy [ this goes back to 1650 and the times of Edward Teach also known as Black Bears ] or espionage.
British citizenship can be revoked by the government in a process known as deprivation of British citizenship for
- Fraud or deception: If citizenship was obtained through false information or concealment of relevant facts.
- Threats to public good: Involvement in terrorism, espionage, serious organized crime, war crimes , threats to national security or conduct seriously prejudicial to UK interests.
This power has been used more frequently in the 21st century, especially in counter‑terrorism cases.
The international law framework on the right to nationality is found in Article 15 UDHR, and the 1961 Statelessness Convention. Where it gets more interesting is in how citizenship deprivation operates in practice, both in Gulf states and closer to home (the Shamima Begum case in the UK example).
Article 15 of the United Nations’s Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR) sets out the international law framework on the right to nationality. It provides:
- “Everyone has the right to a nationality.”
- “No one shall be arbitrarily deprived of his nationality nor denied the right to change his nationality.”
These two provisions establish that:
- every person is entitled to possess a legal nationality/citizenship; and
- states must not remove nationality unfairly or prevent individuals from changing it.
The 1961 Convention on the Reduction of Statelessness is a United Nations treaty designed to prevent and reduce statelessness — situations where a person is not recognized as a national by any state. It complements the 1954 Stateless Persons Convention, which focuses on the rights of stateless people.
Key provisions of the Convention include: granting nationality to avoid statelessness at birth The Convention prohibits states from arbitrarily stripping nationality if doing so would render a person stateless.
It also expressly forbids deprivation of nationality on:
- racial,
- ethnic,
- religious,
- or political grounds
Article 11 provides for a UN body to assist people claiming rights under the Convention. This role has been assigned to United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR).
The Convention’s central principle is that everyone should have a nationality and that states should structure their nationality laws to prevent people from falling into statelessness.
So there we have it. Wonderful provisions by the United Nations. Maybe I am getting cynical in my old age but for every conflict the UN passes lots of great sounding resolutions. You can wall paper a room in your house if not your whole house with these resolutions which end with : to remain seized of the mater. The first UN resolution on Palestine was passed in 1947, the UN has adopted hundreds of resolutions concerning Palestine, including over 130 Security Council resolutions and numerous General Assembly resolutions since 1947.
So now I move quickly countries which revoke nationality on a regular basis: (Sayed Al Wadaei will speak about Bahrain)
Kuwait revoked 42,000 citizenships since August 2024 including those of:
- Mouayad Al-Haddad, Fahad Al-Enezi, Hussain Hakem, and Adel Oqla: National football team players.
- Dawood Hussain: Actor.
- Nawal El Kuwaitia: Singer.
- Salem Al Hendi: Chief executive of the Rotana Group.
- Riyadh Al-Tarrazi: Cardiac surgery consultant.
- Muthana Mithqal Sartawi: Orthopaedic surgeon.
- Tareq Al-Suwaidan: Islamic preacher.
- Mohammed Al-Mahan: Former MP.
- Barakat Hudaiban Al Rashidi: Owner of Al-Sabah TV channel and editor-in-chief of Al-Sabah newspaper.
Global trend revocation analyses identified the UK as one of the leading democracies using citizenship stripping for security reasons. The UK’s legal framework under the British Nationality Act 1981 (Section 40) has been repeatedly updated to broaden revocation powers. These cases often involve people who travelled to conflict zones or were accused of supporting extremist groups.
Global revocation trends — According to a 2025 analysis, multiple countries now use citizenship stripping as a strategic tool in response to terrorism, treason, or political dissent. This includes democratic and authoritarian states alike, with rising numbers of cases in the 2010s and 2020s.
Political dissidents — Research from the Refugee Studies Centre notes that human rights defenders and dissidents are among the groups most frequently targeted by politically motivated nationality deprivation in the 21st century.
Minority activists — The same source highlights that members of minority communities have been disproportionately affected by politically driven denationalisation, especially in states using citizenship as a tool of exclusion.
Suspected extremists — Although often framed as security cases, many revocations in the UK and other Western states have been criticised as politically motivated, especially when applied selectively to dual nationals or individuals unable to appeal effectively. The House of Commons Library confirms a major increase in such cases in the 21st century.
I will stop there and end with a poem written by unnamed individual who had his nationality revoked:
My name is stateless,
my country is non‑existent,
I walk the borders drawn by other hands,
A passport made of memories no embassy will stamp,
My flag is the sky, shifting but constant,
My anthem is the echo of places I’ve left behind,
My home is the road that forgets no footsteps,
My future is the nation I build inside my own breath.
Sayed Ahmed Al Wadaei: It is difficult to speak after Karen’s excellent remarks, but what I would like to offer is a personal account of what statelessness actually means. I can confirm that I myself was rendered stateless.
In my case, this was not the result of a court decision in Bahrain. I was born in Bahrain to Bahraini parents, and it is the only country my family has known for generations — even before the Al Khalifa ruling family came to power, we were there. Then, suddenly and without warning, Bahrain’s state news agency issued a press release.
If your name appeared on that list, it meant you were no longer Bahraini. And if you held no other nationality, you instantly became stateless.
That happened to me on 31 January 2015. Then, on 27 April 2026 — almost eleven years later — a nearly identical event occurred, but on a much larger scale. This time, the government announced that sixty-nine individuals had been stripped of their citizenship. The Interior Ministry published all sixty-nine names publicly.
None of those affected had received any indication whatsoever that they were about to lose their nationality. Today, I learned that the youngest victim was a child named Zahrah. She was only nineteen days old when the decision was made. I discovered this while investigating what had happened to those individuals.
I wanted to understand what linked all sixty-nine people together. What did they have in common? The answer was deeply disturbing. First, all sixty-nine — including the children — were Shia. Second, all were of Iranian heritage. Those were the two common factors among them.
You can imagine the devastation experienced by Zahrah’s mother and the consequences of depriving a nineteen-day-old child of her nationality. Less than a month has passed since these decisions were taken, yet the consequences are already tearing families apart. It is especially devastating because children are directly affected.
One of those stripped of nationality was a Shia cleric. But he was not the only one punished. His entire family was affected — his wife, sons, daughters, and even grandchildren. Every family member carrying his surname was suddenly no longer Bahraini.
If someone asks about the difference between the powers of the British Home Secretary and the dictatorship in Bahrain, I would say that at least in the UK there is a legal process through which individuals can challenge decisions. There are checks and balances. Even in matters relating to national security, individuals are entitled to some degree of due process and basic procedural fairness.
Another important protection is that Britain is a signatory to the Convention on Statelessness. This provides safeguards preventing the state from depriving someone of citizenship if doing so would render that person stateless.
These protections simply do not exist in dictatorships such as Bahrain. There is no meaningful legal process if the Interior Minister revokes citizenship. Individuals have virtually no right to challenge the decision. Even more frightening is what happens afterwards: those individuals are treated as illegal residents in their own country — the same country in which their families have lived for generations. Suddenly, they are not only no longer Bahraini, but are considered illegal immigrants facing deportation.
This is one of the gravest injustices unfolding before our eyes. It is not limited to adults, nor based only on politics. Many of those targeted are persecuted because of their background, sect, or heritage. The cases include children and pregnant women, meaning their children may be born stateless as well.
In my own case, I had a daughter. When the Bahraini authorities rendered me stateless, my daughter — born in the UK — also became stateless.
For refugees in Britain, children can obtain British nationality only under certain conditions. The child must usually be born in Britain, and one parent must already have indefinite leave to remain. If the child is born before either parent receives ILR, that child may exist in legal limbo.
That is exactly what happened in my case. My daughter was born stateless, and only later, after we were granted indefinite leave to remain, was she able to obtain British nationality.
It is also difficult to discuss this issue without addressing recent policy changes introduced in Britain by the Home Secretary, particularly those announced on 2 March regarding asylum and settlement rights.
Previously, refugees and asylum seekers who were granted protection would automatically receive five years’ leave to remain. After that period, they could apply for indefinite leave to remain and eventually citizenship.
Those rules have now changed. Individuals with legitimate asylum claims may receive only thirty months’ protection at a time. That status must then be renewed repeatedly — over and over again — potentially for up to twenty years before they can access indefinite leave to remain.
You can imagine what this means for parents who themselves have no nationality. What happens if they want to have children? Their children may be forced to wait decades before obtaining secure legal status or nationality.
I will conclude with my own experience of obtaining British citizenship. After being rendered stateless by the Bahraini government — the country of my birth — I eventually became eligible to apply for British nationality in May 2021. However, despite eligibility, I faced severe delays.
In ninety-five percent of cases, the Home Office reaches a decision within six months. In my case, I waited three years. It later emerged that there had been correspondence between the Foreign Office and the Home Office regarding my application. The Foreign Office was attempting to influence the Home Office not to grant me citizenship because officials believed it could damage Britain’s bilateral relationship with Bahrain.
The Foreign Office was deeply concerned about whether they would be exposed if I discovered that they were behind the blockage. So they sent a series of questions internally, asking: if they were the ones advocating against granting citizenship or trying to block it, would I eventually find out?
The Home Office replied that there would certainly be an appeal process, and all related documents would be disclosed. I believe their fear of media exposure was one reason they hesitated to allow the foreign security services to make a formal submission.
In some ways, I think that discovery became crucial in changing the decision. After that, I was finally granted British citizenship. It was a long and difficult legal struggle. All I can say is this: imagine the power authorities have when dealing with a nineteen-day-old child placed in a condition of statelessness and limbo, without any clear access to nationality. Thank you very much.
Dr Saeed Shehabi: First, rights must never be weaponised. Human rights should not be politicised or manipulated. That must remain a principle. No person should be denied their rights for political reasons. If that happens in this country or elsewhere in the West, then what difference remains between democratic societies and dictatorships?
Secondly, nationality is often described as a privilege rather than a right. I have personally experienced this in a way that may shock you. I still possess the original letter sent to me by the Home Office. It stated: “As you are aware, nationality is not a right, but is granted at the discretion of the Home Secretary.”
The law itself does not clearly define what constitutes “good character” for citizenship purposes. Yet the Home Office informed me that they had adopted a broad interpretation, including political activity as a measure of character. The letter specifically stated that active opposition to a friendly government did not amount to good character. I have that official letter in my office.
If this is how “good character” is defined in the UK, then what remains of democratic principles? I remember the late Lord Avebury reading that letter and joking that, by that standard, he himself would not deserve citizenship, since as a Liberal Democrat he spent much of his political life opposing the government and seeking to remove it through lawful means.
Nationality is one of the great achievements of modern history. It provides people with legal status, rights, and protections within a state governed by checks and balances. A functioning state requires citizens who know and exercise their rights.
Today, even to vote in elections, people are often required to produce identification, preferably a passport. But what happens if someone has no passport? How do they prove who they are? Unfortunately, this small booklet has become the definition of identity, when identity should instead be based on a person’s conduct, values, and contribution to society.
Sayed mentioned that it took him three years to obtain citizenship. In my own case, it took thirty years. From 1971 until 2002, I remained without citizenship. My applications were refused repeatedly in 1991, 1992, and again afterwards. I lived in this country from 1979 until 2002 unable to leave because my passport had been withdrawn in 1980. For over twenty years, I existed in limbo.
This should never happen. People who flee dictatorships come seeking freedom and safety. We expected guarantees of dignity and security. Yet many of us have experienced not only insecurity regarding nationality, but also fears for our personal safety.
Despite this, we do not wish to become hostile to Britain. This country has become our home. Our children and grandchildren were born here. It is in all our interests to see this country safe, stable, and prosperous. None of us wants to see crime, violence, or insecurity. Falling crime rates benefit everyone.
Good citizenship means safeguarding both our own interests and the interests of the wider community. As Muslims, we must demonstrate that our faith encourages good citizenship, professionalism, compassion, and moral conduct. Religion should unite people, not divide them.
Imam Ali said that people are of two kinds: either your brothers in faith or your equals in humanity. That universal principle should guide us. Human beings are equal in dignity. Even in the Qur’an, superiority is based only on piety — meaning moral conduct and refraining from wrongdoing.
Identity, therefore, must not be confined to a passport or a piece of paper. Citizenship should have a broader meaning and a deeper moral foundation. While I agree on the importance of good citizenship, I strongly disagree with the definition contained in that Home Office letter. Good citizenship means standing against injustice, oppression, and dictatorship. If we do not do that, then who will?
Chairman: Finally, I would like to thank all the speakers. Your remarks about “good character” reminded me of a joke. As you know, Australia was originally established in part through the transportation of British convicts. A Pakistani student once arrived there and was asked by immigration officials whether he had a criminal record. He replied, “Do I need a criminal record to come to Australia?”
Humour aside, one of the most important points raised today concerns citizenship, peace, and social harmony. I have lived in Britain all my life, and despite sensationalist headlines, London remains one of the safest major cities I have ever known.
True patriotism means improving one’s country. Criticising government policies when necessary is not unpatriotic; it is part of making society better. Speaking against injustice and oppression strengthens the nation as a whole.
* Sayed Ahmed Al Wadaei is Director of Advocacy at the Bahrain Institute for Rights and Democracy(BIRD). He has been a prominent figure in Bahrain’s human rights movement, advocating for the rights of the people and challenging the human rights abuses. Al Wadaei has been involved in significant events such as the 2011 Arab Spring protests in Bahrain, where he was jailed, tortured and subsequently, stripped of his nationality.
** Dr Saeed Shehabi: is a London-based Bahraini political activist, journalist, commentator and member of the Bahrain Freedom Movement. He edited the London-based Pan-Arabic weekly Al Aalam from 1983 to 1999 and, in addition to being Chairman of the Gulf Cultural Club, serves as a trustee of two Muslim charities located in London, the Dar Al-Hekma Trust and the Abrar Islamic Foundation, and writes regularly for Al-Quds and Muslim News.
***Karen Dabrowska is a writer and journalist and co-organizer of the Open Discussions monthly meetings. She was previously Director of Communications of Friends of South Yemen and Development Office for the Sudanese National Council. Originally from New Zealand where she worked as a journalist for the Evening Post, she now resident in London where she was editor of New Horizon Magazine and London correspondent for Jana News Agency.
