- 1 Both figures are derived from information taken from Table (15) Married Kuwaiti females by nationa (...)
- 2 Figure derived from a 30‑year average (1985–2015) based on numbers provided by the Central Statist (...)
1Upon deciding to marry a non‑national, a Kuwaiti woman is faced with multiple obstacles, which differ depending on whether she is marrying someone from the GCC, from another Arab state, a non‑Arab, or a stateless person (commonly referred to as Bedun — bidūn). There is, however, a constant thread that runs through all of these women’s experiences. They are all unable to pass on their citizenship to their children, and their children do not benefit from many of the state‑funded welfare privileges that other citizens enjoy, especially in terms of scholarships, employment opportunities and full health services. Given that there are more than 19,000 Kuwaiti women married to non‑nationals (of known nationalities) with over 56,0001 children according to the 2016 statistics, this is an issue that affects a significant proportion of Kuwaiti households. With an average of 6502 new marriage certificates issued annually to Kuwaiti women marrying non‑Kuwaitis, these numbers grow year by year.
- 3 Grewal & Kaplan, 1994, p. 17.
2This study will focus on the multi‑layered intersecting elements that maintain local power structures and explore the relationship of gender to scattered hegemonies such as “local structures of domination, patriarchal nationalism, ‘authentic’ forms of tradition”3 that place Kuwaiti women who are married to non‑nationals in precarious positions. The article focuses on the ways in which laws governing the rights of these women and of their children intersect with larger frameworks of national identity formation, attitudes towards migrant communities, tribal kinship policies, and the social contract in rentier states like Kuwait. In this sense, the paper explores the relationship between gendered citizenship and anti‑immigrant discourses that seep into Kuwaiti policies and make it extremely difficult to legitimize the citizenship claims of non‑national children of Kuwaiti mothers. It will also attempt to address questions around the lack of political will to improve the situation of these families and the countermeasures taken by activists, civil society organizations, some MPs, the women themselves and their children.
- 4 Semi‑annual State of the Population Report, 2016.
3According to the 2016 statistics provided by the Central Statistical Bureau, out of the 4,132,415 people residing in Kuwait, 2,893,736 were non‑Kuwaitis.4 That means that nearly 70% of Kuwait’s population today is made up of foreigners who have come to work in the homes of Kuwaitis, and in the country’s private and public sector. Kuwait’s migration policies position foreign workers in a situation that makes integration into the Kuwaiti socio‑political sphere difficult, and that is despite their having had a demographic dominance for over half a century and contributing greatly to the country’s economy. This cannot be attributed only to linguistic and cultural barriers, for even Arab Muslims who have lived in Kuwait for generations are still treated as “foreign” within the legal, political and social framework of the country.
- 5 See Khalaf, 2008.
- 6 Identity, Citizenship and Sectarianism in the GCC, 2012.
- 7 See Alsharekh, 2007, p. 5.
- 8 Cooke, 2014, p. 11.
4In many ways, the construction of Kuwait’s national identity was shaped along the lines of desert/maritime‑mercantile ideals,5 whether in its school curriculums, national day celebrations or in its nationality laws. Despite waves of Arab and foreign migrants, and the mercantile ties with Iran and India that pre‑date the discovery of oil, there remains a persistence of ethno‑tribal identities in the Arabian Gulf states where “official narratives of national identity tend to emphasize the role of rulers and their families as representatives of the nation, and usually privilege Sunni Muslim, male, tribal identities”.6 In this sense, the imaginative geography of a Kuwaiti national identity is visualized through the Sunni Muslim, male, and tribal figure. Whether they still define themselves as “bedu” — badū (second and third generation urban settlers from Bedouin backgrounds) or older settled urban communities (commonly called ḥaḍar), a form of tribal identity remains central to most nationals as they rely on it to achieve social prominence and political clout. When examining public and private attitudes to non‑tribal nationals, migrant workers and the new gender and familial roles assigned to Arabian Gulf families today,7 we find that there is a lot of resistance to the socio‑political integration of foreigners, especially in the issue of kinship and marriage, as “tribal designation distinguishes native citizens from others close to them, the majority international community of workers”.8
- 9 See Allen, 2007, for more on the differentiation of tribal lines along purity of descent.
- 10 Kinninmont, 2013, p. 52.
5While traditional tribal family values are still presented as the cornerstone of an “authentic” Gulf Cooperative Council (GCC) national identity there is no room for genuine acceptance of those whose ancestry differs from that, and especially since there are hierarchies within tribes themselves, with some lineages considered purer, depending on their ancestry (aṣl),9 and therefore more desirable, than others. The tribal national identity is thus heterogeneous in itself, with hierarchies and relations of power within the tribes that make narratives of pureness central to the construction of a dominant tribal national identity that has socio‑cultural and economic capital value. This social stratification affected non‑tribal Kuwaitis before the discovery of oil, and would dictate who was eligible for naturalization and therefore citizenship following independence and the creation of the modern state, reflecting the “social significance that can be placed on family descent and lineage, which affect the status of different ‘tiers’ of citizens as well as helping to determine who is a citizen”.10
6Shafīq al Ghabrā suggests that “the 1962 constitution formed a new country which opened doors for all its citizens who were there from 1920 onward, but the nationality law created historical racism marking the difference between being Kuwaiti by foundation (tā’sis) or being Kuwaiti through naturalization (tajnīs)”.11 Essentially this nationality law differentiates between those who are documented as resident in the country prior to 1965 (Article 1 citizenship) and enjoy full political rights and civil service opportunities, and those who were given the Kuwaiti nationality later through articles 4, 5, 7 and 8, and cannot vote, run for office or be appointed to a government leadership position until 20 years have passed from their naturalization date.12 The principle of exclusion is ingrained in the nationality system, even among those who were deemed worthy of getting Kuwaiti citizenship. This demonstrates the levels of otherness that are being assigned to Kuwaitis themselves (tribe, sect, historical access) and plays out in their relationship with non‑Kuwaitis, and the lack of a clear and fair merit‑based naturalization system. Against this background, it becomes easier to understand how marrying a non‑Kuwaiti, even one from the Arabian Gulf States, would be a choice that is met with some social resistance and a measure of social and legal demotion in the case of Kuwaiti women,13 especially where the treatment of their children is concerned.
- 14 Kinninmont, 2013, p. 50‑51.
- 15 Al‑Rawāqī, 2015.
7There are economic benefits to being Kuwaiti, many of which have been presented as cornerstones of the agreement between the ruling families of the Arabian Gulf states and those they rule. “The legal, political and economic construction of citizenship by Gulf regimes has been designed partly to provide incentives for Gulf nationals to support the existing nations rather than being swayed by stronger pulls towards transnational Arab or Islamic identities… The oil boom, and the policies adopted by governments to distribute some of the benefits of oil wealth among the population, added to the economic incentives for Gulf nationals to support their existing nation‑states, which happened to legitimize the concentration of the region’s wealth among a small proportion of its population”.14 The financial expectations that come with being a Kuwaiti national in terms of housing, education and job security have made it less likely that the government would support granting women the right to pass on citizenship to their children. In fact, this transactional nature of citizenship in the Arabian Gulf States, where ruling elites act as gatekeepers of oil wealth and loyalty is ensured through its distribution, has meant that the granting of citizenship has become a process that is very much tied into the whims of political elites. In Kuwait and most Gulf states there is a “great services” clause whereby rulers can gift citizenship directly to those whom they decide have contributed “exceptionally” to the state. A 2015 Op‑ed in Sabr Newspaper15 challenged the claim by Māzin al‑Ṣabāḥ, Assistant Undersecretary for Citizenships and Passports Affairs at Kuwait’s Ministry of Interior Affairs, that those who demanded the right to Kuwaiti citizenship were only motivated by economic benefits, but that is the prism through which many policymakers and nationals see even legitimate claims by those seeking this right.
8In noting how citizenship is gendered, racialized and classed, the context of Kuwait provides an example of how the economic primacy of citizenship regulates social norms as well as the possibilities of social resistance. When claims to citizenship in Kuwait are regarded solely as claims to economic privileges then what follows is a national resistance to the acceptance of such claims and subsequently a lack of political will to legitimize them.
- 16 Alsharekh, 2007, p. 5.
9The advent of oil money and the building of the modern state meant not only that there were now large numbers of Arab and foreign expatriates working and living alongside Kuwaitis, and Kuwaitis traveling abroad to study and gain work experience (both of which increased the likelihood of marriage with a non‑Kuwaiti), but it also led to a shift in family structures from within and a “loosening of patriarchal bonds by introducing a degree of individualism and privacy that was not available to previous generations.”16 With this shift young people, and women especially, gained some economic and social independence from the traditional hold of the family, and love marriages started to replace those brokered by male guardians for social and political gain.
- 17 Levi‑Strauss, 1969, p. 42.
10Kuwaiti women were slowly liberated from the confines of the family home and the first wave of state‑funded female students were sent to study abroad in the early 1950s, entering the labor market in ever greater numbers since 1962. And yet, they were still expected to behave as if the state’s modernization project had no impact on their social expectations when it came to the right to choose a spouse. In legal and social terms, they were still required to submit to the will of the male head of the household, to what in marital terms would first benefit the collective family or tribe. Levi Strauss suggests that the monitoring of marriage for women in closely knit societies is essential to maintain certain privileges, which gives “women an essential value in group life”.17 If identity is built on group loyalty then tying kinship and close biological relations to the issue of national allegiance means that any marriage to someone outside the group, be it family, tribe, district or country, would be an unfavorable option.
- 18 UN Women Executive Director Michelle Bachelet remarks on “Women’s Political Participation”, Helsin (...)
11In the Arabian Gulf states, the regulations that govern marriage and family life are part of a public/private domain that is intractably linked to group endogamy (an anthropological term referring to the practice of marrying only within the limits of a local community, clan, or tribe) and kinship policies. Female citizens of the GCC states who decide to marry non‑nationals do so at great personal disadvantage to themselves and their families. It is a well‑documented fact that “countries with more women in parliament tend to have more equitable laws and social programs and budgets that benefit women and children and families,”18 and the lack of female representation when Kuwait’s legislature and legal system were being put in place constitutes one of the reasons why there is an inability to challenge the gender‑based legislation that follows a paternalistic legal code which frames equal rights according to specific conditions subject to “Sharia and respect for tradition.” This sentiment is clear in legal amendments, such as that made in 2005 to the 1962 law on voting: the change allowed women to vote and run for office but only “in accordance with Sharia principles.” This means that the primary challenge faced by Kuwaiti women wishing to marry non‑Kuwaitis is one that is faced by women across the GCC and the Arab world; a legal system that treats them as incomplete and in need of a male representative to add credibility to their choice, for example requiring the presence and permission of a male guardian to validate a job contract in Saudi Arabia or issue a marriage certificate in Kuwait and other Gulf states. Tying legislation to the opaque concept of Islamic and tribal “traditions” meant that the male legislator would introduce controls on Kuwaiti women’s right to personal choice, their right to choose a life partner and their right to pass on their citizenship to their children.
12In December 2014, the Supreme Council of the GCC introduced its own “Declaration on the human rights of the Cooperation Council of the Arabian Gulf.” This was heralded as a new dawn for social justice because there was finally a blueprint of agreed commitments that all member states had to adhere to. The second article of the declaration states:
“People are equal in dignity and humanity, in rights and freedoms, and equal before the law. There is no distinction between them for reasons of origin, gender, religion, language, color, or any other form of distinction.”19
13This is almost identical to article 29 of Kuwait’s constitution, which states that:
“1. All people are equal in human dignity and in public rights and duties before the law, without distinction to race, origin, language, or religion.
2. Personal liberty is guaranteed.”
- 20 Willoughby, 2008.
- 21 Al‑Mughni, 2001, p. 17.
14In law and in social practice the treatment of Kuwaiti women who choose non‑Kuwaiti spouses is in direct violation of both the GCC treaty and the country’s own constitution, yet there is no real pressure from a critical mass of voters on legislators or government officials to resolve this (and many other) discriminatory and unconstitutional practices. This is partly to do with the hybrid legal system in Kuwait. Derived from a mixture of British common law, French civil law, Islamic Sharia, and Egyptian law, it allows legislators to claim one or another source to explain discrepancies between existing laws, articles of the constitution and international treaties that the country has ratified such as CEDAW, UNCRC and CERD. Democratic practices in Kuwait were, to an extent, productive in their mobilizations as a legitimate vehicle for modernity, however, that modernity is one that remains confined within the demands intrinsic to institutions that guarantee the ruling elite’s status quo, such as a hierarchical formation around gender and class. In this sense there is a persistence of the conditions where a “preexisting system of ‘classic patriarchy’ that emphasized tight control over the movement of women was strengthened by this ascendant tribal state, which distributed part of these revenues to support national households.”20 The reasons for this are embedded deep within the power relations between men and women and, more so, in the socio‑political structures that still dictate that “tribe” and family relations are superior to individual choice or liberty, especially for women. As Haya al Mughni put it, “the concept of sharaf was important for the merchant community. It kept them together and helped them to preserve their privilege. More important, it kept women ‘in their place’ ”.21 Sharaf, loosely translated as honor, plays a prominent part in other Kuwaiti legislation that discriminates against a woman in favor of her legal guardian, such as articles 153 (the “honor‑killing” law), and 182 of the penal code, that allows kidnappers to marry their victims if the guardian consents. To choose a mate, to fall in love and make a choice that may not coincide with the family’s, that may not serve to further their interest and cement their status, was/is traditionally considered dishonorable for both men and women. This independent agency in tightly knit communities, where marriage is a group decision, is considered akin to selfishness by some, and in nomadic communities could lead to the expulsion of the guilty party and the refusal of the tribe to acknowledge them or provide them with physical or material protection. Essentially, this meant that both the non‑Kuwaiti wife and husband were regarded as being a non‑normative and an inferior choice to that of marrying a Kuwaiti, but in terms of legal discrimination it is only the Kuwaiti woman who marries a non‑national who is punished by not being allowed to pass citizenship to her spouse, and only through divorce or widowhood can she hope to pass it to her children.
15The Twitter threads of citizenship rights activists such as Ālya al Dulaymī (@Omfahad‑1960), and statements made on the hashtag #تجنيس_ابناء_الكويتيات (citizenship for the children of Kuwaiti women) show that even lawyers such as Dāna al‑Rashīd (@lawyerdana) frame arguments for granting citizenship to the children of Kuwaiti women in Islamic terms, and so do most of the parliamentarians who lobby for this cause.22 An Islamic endorsement from prominent religious figure Dr Muḥammad al‑Ṭabṭabā’ī adorns the pages of a Kuwaitis Without Borders (a civil society initiative that focuses on the citizenship rights of women with Kuwaiti nationality married to non‑nationals) brochure on citizenship rights [Fig. 1]. Many of the activists working on promoting the rights of Kuwaiti women married to non‑Kuwaitis feel that enlisting the help of religious authority to show how this discriminatory legislation violates the spirit of Islam and is detrimental to community spirit by alienating the children of female nationals in countries where they have the most sense of belonging would be a useful strategy, but positioning Islamic dogma and interpretations of religious texts is not straightforward when it comes to this issue.
Fig. 1. Endorsement by Dr Muḥammad al‑Ṭabṭabā’ī in the citizenship rights brochure of Kuwaitis without Borders.
- 23 AlTalea Newspaper, May 7, 2014.
16A 2014 article in AlTalea Newspaper23 lists the Islamic preference of patrilineal descent as one of the arguments used to deny citizenship to the children of Kuwaiti women, since according to some interpretations of Sharia law they should follow their father’s citizenship.
17Both Islamic and Arab constructs of “family” and belonging are based on patrilineal descent with a strong preference for marriage within family lines. In Kuwait, the phrase “diḥīna fī mukabātnā” (our oil [stays] in our pan) refers to the ideal of marriage between first cousins so that the family’s wealth does not get divided or end up in the hands of outsiders. This is a tribal ideal that has found resonance with the merchant and political elite that made up Kuwait’s original legislators because of the desire to retain power and wealth through propagating only intra‑family marriages, or if no suitable matches occur, only marriages with distant relatives or those from the same social and economic background. This becomes compounded by the pre‑Islamic concept of kafā’a or suitability that is employed in religious discourses on marriage where this has translated into women specifically being expected to marry those from a similar or better background. A non‑national seen through this frame is of a lesser social background than a national, even if they are relatives from neighboring Arab or Muslim countries.
18Some civil society activists have tried to counter this argument with the notion that the right to choose a spouse from any social, racial or national background is an important Islamic value, as demonstrated in Verse 13 of Sūra al‑Ḥujurāt:
“O mankind, indeed we have created you from male and female and made you peoples and tribes that you may know one another. Indeed, the most noble of you in the sight of Allah is the most righteous of you. Indeed, Allah is Knowing and Acquainted.”24
19Other activists have tried to negate the kafā’a argument using other Islamic texts, such as this Hadith that warns against the rejection of a spouse based on race or ethnicity or nationality as long as he or she displays piety and good character, and denounces such discrimination a sign of weak faith:
“If there comes someone whose religious commitment and character are satisfactory, let him marry [into your family], for if you don’t it will lead to strife in the land and great corruption.”25
20Therefore, it could be argued that Kuwaiti women married to non‑nationals are excluded from passing on their citizenship more as an enforcement of a “tribal” tradition than an Islamic one, as Amal al Malki, Dean of Hamad bin Khalifa University and married to a non‑national herself suggests, as is the often‑cited fear that granting citizenship to the children of a Kuwaiti woman will cause “demographic” confusion, or diffuse national identity.26 Institutional encouragement through financial incentives and privileges granted to nationals who marry nationals, where Kuwaiti men get paid up to 6000 KD27 (19,858USD) if they marry a Kuwaiti woman, as well as free housing or a generous housing loan for the Kuwaiti couple (similar incentives are given to intra‑national marriages in the UAE and Qatar) is an extension of this tribal mentality.
21Family issues in Arab countries are regarded as private matters defined by religion and culture, even when it comes to nationality rights. Today this taboo is gradually giving way to an environment that permits a more open public discussion of women’s rights and citizenship law, but not enough to drive real and lasting change. In February 2017, Kuwait’s Women’s Cultural and Social Society of (WCSS) held a conference on the status of Kuwaiti women married to non‑nationals called “A Stranger in my Country” where Dr Fāṭma al‑Ḥūwayl, a law professor married to an Egyptian, raised the question of whether citizenship determines the ways in which a national is treated. She argued against the semantics that govern this issue, with the words ajnabī (meaning foreigner) and wafīd (meaning migrant), both of which are used to describe the legal status of children born to Kuwaiti women; misleading terms meant to distance and alienate these children from their true state, when in reality they are just as “Kuwaiti”, if not more so, in the way they are raised, as the children of Kuwaiti men.
- 28 Al‑Nakib, 2015, p. 5.
- 29 Presentation for panel on “Women’s rights and Social Issues in the Gulf States” from the Arab Cent (...)
22Rania al‑Nakib argues that “Kuwait’s population is usually split into a series of binaries: Kuwaitis/non‑Kuwaitis; original/naturalized citizens; Muslims/non‑Muslims; Sunnis/Shias; ḥaḍar (townspeople)/Bedouins; men/women; and adults/children. With these varying categories come varying degrees of legal rights and social belonging. In each binary, it is the first that is most recognized, so ‘original’ Kuwaiti Sunni Muslim, ḥaḍar, male adults — a decidedly small group considering that expatriates outnumber locals by almost two to one, and women, Bedouins and youth make up the majority of the local population.”28 Al‑Malki develops this idea further, stating that “women in the Gulf are considered second‑class citizens” where “citizenship is gendered and women are denied their citizenship rights.”29
- 30 Executive Regulation of Nationality System, Minister of Interior, Saudi Arabia.
23Saudi Arabia is the only country in the GCC that has a naturalization point system30 by which the granting of citizenship to the spouse of a Saudi woman is somewhat similar to that of a foreign woman married to Saudi man, especially if proof of social and economic contribution is provided. The same extra points apply to the male children of Saudi mothers, and though the other Arabian Gulf states do not offer any citizenship fast tracks to help those married to women of Kuwaiti nationality they do, in theory, offer some to their children.
- 31 Electronic Portal, State of Kuwait Ministry of Interior.
24By contrast, the foreign wives of Kuwaiti men qualify for citizenship after five years of marriage, and it is at the Minister of Interior’s discretion to speed up the process. This naturalized wife gets to retain the Kuwaiti citizenship even after divorce and re‑marriage to a non‑Kuwaiti,31 and if her Kuwaiti spouse dies, or their marriage ends with divorce prior to her receiving citizenship, she could still apply and be eligible through a male son. This makes the question of citizenship tied to gender in a fundamental and unequivocal manner; if you are a man your citizenship is mutable and whole, but for a Kuwaiti woman, it is another story. By having different criteria governing the granting of citizenship to spouses and children in each of those cases, the principle of equal rights and opportunities for Kuwaiti women and their right freely to choose a spouse are being challenged.
- 32 Similar sentiments are expressed on discussion forums or in the comment section of newspaper artic (...)
- 33 Interview with Amānī al‑‘Aysā, July 13, 2017.
- 34 Gengler, 2013.
25The neo‑patriarchal arguments inherent in these laws flow into discourses between marginalized groups themselves. At a WCSS conference in November 2014 on the status of Kuwaiti women married to non‑nationals, a stateless man from the ‘Anza tribe reacted angrily to the idea of granting citizenship to the children of Kuwaiti women. He argued that as a tribal man who grew up in Kuwait, he and others like him were more deserving of Kuwaiti citizenship than the children of “foreign men.”32 This masculine entitlement, an entitlement that is also racialized, and the favoritism of certain categories over others, is a recurring theme within the struggle for citizenship rights in Kuwait. A recent job ad for the Ministry of Education was described in a local Snapchat “news” channel as offering a position without prior qualifications to the children of Kuwaiti mothers from the GCC or Bedun communities, ignoring all other classes that were listed in the actual offer (Fig. 2). Amānī al‑‘Aysā, an activist for the rights of the children of Kuwaiti women married to non‑nationals and the general coordinator of Kuwaitis without Borders says that in her experience there is preferential treatment in terms of employment or salaries for the children of Bedun fathers followed by GCC citizens, then Arabs, then non‑Arabs.33 In the many impassioned speeches of those who lobby for the rights of the Bedun community, there is little mention of the rights of the children of Kuwaiti women who are not Bedun themselves, and many of the professional working women who are married to non‑Kuwaitis of known nationality do not consider stateless people’s claims to citizenship as strong as that of their own children. Neither group seems to bring up in their discourse the citizenship rights of the many Arabs and Asians who have lived in Kuwait for generations and are legally deserving of citizenship. The fragmentation of citizenship rights into ever smaller classes of entitlement or degrees of suffering only serves to divert attention from the question of why ruling elites “have sought to segment their political markets, erecting tiers of citizenship that confer discrete levels of benefits, and that engender in turn varying levels of political satisfaction.”34
Fig. 2. Announcement on “Fast News” Snapchat account on the Ministry of Education jobs for children of Kuwaiti women, which only mentions opportunities for Bedouin or GCC citizens.
- 35 Gulf Labour Markets and Migration Website has published data of naturalized citizens according to (...)
- 36 Babar, 2014, p. 403.
- 37 Babar, 2014, p. 406.
26Although this topic continues to garner interest, and the transparency and ease of obtaining dis‑aggregated data from the statistical units of the General Secretariat of the Gulf Cooperative Council has improved greatly, there are very few publicly accessible sources that provide data on foreign nationals who have been naturalized,35 whether they are the children of Kuwaiti women married to non‑nationals or otherwise, and what the criteria were to qualify for naturalization in each case. Limiting naturalization seems to be a defensive strategy not just in terms of cultural preservation but also in economic terms. Zahra Babar suggests that the high level of migration inflows coupled with rentier state politics caused citizenship laws in the Gulf to be more exclusive than inclusive. Where “welfare benefits are exceedingly high for nationals… the state shows great reluctance to expand citizenship, as it would be economically burdensome.”36 Even when the restrictive legal environment around access to citizenship is somehow overcome, the “naturalization legislation has developed tiered access to citizenship benefits, so that naturalized citizens are not eligible for the same rights as original citizens”37 and even the fight for equal citizenship rights becomes tiered.
27The nationality laws in Kuwait predate the birth of the modern state by two years, which means that after democracy was introduced to the country post‑independence in 1961, there was a real opportunity for the elected officials to introduce changes to this law. That did not happen. Instead, the Kuwaiti legislature made conditional choices when it came to determining the circumstances under which the children of Kuwaiti mothers would be eligible for citizenship. Nationality law number 15 of 1959 states in article 3 that if a Kuwaiti mother has a child with a father who is unknown or whose paternity has not been established, that child may apply for citizenship. In such cases, nationality is granted by decree based on the discretionary recommendation of the Minister of Interior, an extraordinary measure which is found in most of the GCC states’ nationality laws. In article 5, the law states that Kuwaiti women married to non‑Kuwaitis cannot pass citizenship to their children, unless they are widowed or divorced, but the application of this article is increasingly rare and the woman requires a strong patron to ensure a wasṭa or a political favor. In the experience of Kuwaiti women married to non‑nationals, even after the introduction of legal amendments that would better their situation and that of their children, many of the discriminatory practices that hinder the application of these new laws stay stubbornly in place.
28The laws governing the marriage of Kuwaiti to non‑Kuwaitis are nearly identical to those governing the marriage of nationals. In both cases, all that is required are copies of the civil IDs of both parties, medical and marital status certificates, and that the marriage is conducted in the physical presence of a male guardian on the woman’s side (if the family disapproves of the marriage the court can act as the woman’s legal guardian).38 This similarity in process, however, does not translate to a similarity in experience after the marriage contract is signed, because in many ways, the actual process of marrying a non‑Kuwaiti, especially if the woman is lucky enough to have a supportive family, is the easy part. The struggle then begins with securing residency for the spouse and the children so that they can remain in Kuwait regardless of employment status.
- 39 Before the law changed in 2001, a Kuwaiti women could only sponsor a retired husband over sixty ye (...)
29Currently, spousal residency sponsorship lasts for one year and has to be renewed in the second and third years, after which the spouse is eligible for a five‑year residence.39 Whereas an “original” Kuwaiti woman can grant her non‑national husband a five‑year residency as soon as she has a child with him, naturalized Kuwaiti women do not have the right to bestow residency to non‑Kuwaiti husbands yet. In both cases, Kuwaiti women face difficulties in providing long‑term residencies for their spouses or children, with the exception of those married to men from the GCC or Kuwait’s Bedun community.
- 40 Recounted to the author by Fāṭma Waḥīdī in May 2015.
30One of the most basic issues that comes up for these women is the continuous nightmare of having to arrange the residency papers for their children, and this could be easily remedied by granting permanent residence to children of Kuwaiti women married to non‑nationals in Kuwait, and by extension the GCC. Fāṭma Waḥīdī, recounts the nightmare of being a few weeks late with registering her American newborn with the correct authorities and then having to make sure that there were no deportation procedures against him because he had technically “overstayed” his visit visa. She had registered the first two children without incident, but with the third child the law changed and she had to first register the newborn with the Kuwaiti embassy in Washington DC. This meant that the newborn child was charged with being an illegal resident by the Ministry of Interior despite the fact that his mother was a Kuwaiti, and she only resolved the issue by signing an official pledge never to harbor an illegal resident in her household again.40
- 41 Al‑Subīḥ, Al‑Rai Newspaper, November 6, 2016.
- 42 Presentation by Īthrā’ al‑Rifā‘ī at the WCSS conference on the status of Kuwaiti women married to (...)
- 43 Yousef, al‑Shammari & al‑Aslami, 2017.
31In terms of the Civil Service Law, there is a lot of discrimination in the financial assistance available to Kuwaiti women married to non‑nationals in terms of child benefits, rental aid, housing loans etc. The Minister of Social Affairs and Labor, Hind al‑Subīḥ, revealed that there were 1,255 Kuwaiti women married to non‑nationals applying for government assistance in November 2016.41 There are many more who should be receiving aid from the government but who are not. Although the housing law was supposedly amended in 201042 to allow Kuwaiti women to get a loan that is considerably less than that of Kuwaiti men (70,000 KD to men’s 100,000 KD), women with non‑Kuwaiti husbands are automatically disqualified.43 Instead they are offered a group housing allocation, and even then under a long list of conditions.
32In legal terms, Housing Law number 47 of 1993 and Minister of State for Housing Affairs resolution number 31 of 2016 both detracted from the right of Kuwaiti women to get housing benefits equal to those of Kuwaiti men, and law decree 74 of 1979, which impedes non‑Kuwaitis from owning property in Kuwait, has made it very difficult for Kuwaiti mothers to pass on a rightful inheritance to their children. This clearly violates article 18 of Kuwait’s constitution which states that:
- Private ownership is safeguarded. No person shall be prevented from disposing of his property save within the limits of the law; and no person shall suffer expropriation save for the public benefit in the cases determined and in the manner prescribed by law provided the he be equitably compensated therefore.
- Inheritance is a right governed by Islamic Law.
- 44 Interview with Dr Hishām al‑Ṣāliḥ, October 24, 2014.
33Dr Hishām al‑Ṣāliḥ, a law professor at Kuwait University says that in terms of property inheritance the law has changed recently to allow the children of Kuwaiti women to inherit the (governmental) apartment accommodation of their mothers,44 but even that is determined by the age and gender of the child inheriting the property.
- 45 Al‑Ḥūwayl, 2017.
- 46 Al‑‘Ilās, 2017.
34Not only do the children of Kuwaiti mothers not have the right to ownership or inheritance of property owned by their mothers in Kuwait, a situation that led to mothers “fearing death for economic reasons” according to Dr Fāṭma al‑Ḥūwayl,45 but they do not get the same health coverage as the children of Kuwaiti men (they are excluded from dental braces and some medicines) nor are they eligible for enrollment in state‑funded scholarships for university study abroad. These children of Kuwaiti mothers are also treated as foreigners in terms of salaries in the private sector and government jobs and are therefore paid less than Kuwaitis. While there have been many promises and announcements that the children of Kuwaiti mothers will be granted priority following Kuwaiti citizens at the Public Service Authority, the necessary mechanisms for signing these young men and women into the system have not been successful yet according to an article in AlRai Newspaper.46
35Although Kuwait has witnessed an upsurge in women’s political participation in terms of voting since women were granted full political rights on May 16, 2005, there has been a downturn in the actual numbers of women running for office since the first election in 2006 (see Fig. 3). The past decade has been a tumultuous time politically and economically for Kuwait and during the 2011 upheaval, the progress of women’s issues has taken a back seat to other, more pressing matters of “national interest.”
36At the present time there is a single female MP in parliament and only one female minister in Kuwait’s cabinet and, despite government promises, none in the judiciary; a painful under‑representation of women, their needs and the causes dear to them. The fact that there is currently only one, mostly inactive, committee for women under the Minister of Councils and a temporary committee for women and family affairs in the National Assembly is not helpful to ensuring necessary legislative change and overseeing its implementation. This proves that political rights by themselves are not enough. In fact, an article looking at the continued discrimination against these women in The New Arab47 with that very title suggests that for activists working on this cause there are very limited spheres of influence where policy makers are concerned.
Fig. 3. Women running for office since the first election in 2006.
- 48 “The constitutional court sets a date to look into appeals filed for the granting of equal rights (...)
37The issue of the continued suffering of the children of Kuwaiti women has found resonance with civil society and some legislators in Kuwait, and it has come up more frequently as a campaign promise for some male candidates during elections since the early 2010s. A coalition of NGOs dedicated to the cause has come together under the banner of Insaf (the campaign for justice for Kuwaiti women married to non‑Kuwaitis). These include Kuwait’s Lawyers Association, the Women’s Cultural and Social Society (WCSS), The Kuwaiti Human Rights Society, The National Association for Family Protection (Rawasi), and Kuwaitis without Borders, a group that is dedicated solely to this cause. Insaf bankrolled three separate constitutional appeals in 2016 to look into the issue of equalizing Kuwaiti mothers’ housing allowances and the rights of their children to inherit with those of Kuwaiti men, but the court rejected the cases in May 2017.48
- 49 A WhatsApp group with a (mostly inactive) Facebook presence.
38There are other groups that have come together through the shared experience and suffering that comes with marrying a non‑Kuwaiti and that is further complicated by having children who are denied citizenship. Some, like Abnā’ al‑Kūwaytiyāt (the children of Kuwaiti women)49 serve as a forum for commiseration and the exchange of information more than as a lobbying group or a vehicle for social or political action. In addition to the several conversations that took place with Abnā’ al‑Kūwaytiyāt, my position as a researcher‑activist engaging with the topic of Kuwaiti women married to non‑nationals has informed much of this paper; likewise, the insights I am providing are the product of several years of fieldwork.
- 50 Ḥijāb, 2016.
- 51 Oh et al., 2015, p. 173‑180.
39Over the past few years there has been a noticeable shift in the portrayal of the struggle of these families in Kuwait and some success in using new and traditional media outlets in spreading public awareness on the plight of Kuwaiti women marrying non‑nationals. There was a 2007 campaign launched by the WCSS called “my citizenship is a right for me and my children”, but it’s unclear how successful it was because the WCSS dropped the slogan in 2010. Besides the forums run by different civil society organizations, and the various social media posts and newspaper articles that those who are active in this field publish, there have been more sympathetic figures drawn in some of the television series that are shown during the prime‑time season in Ramadan. From the Ramadan season of 2014 onwards, the figure of the Kuwaiti woman married to a non‑Kuwaiti and the struggles of her children have been treated with cultural nuance and empathy for this plight, such as in Love Speaks (co‑produced by the Kuwaiti AlWatan TV and Abu Dhabi TV) and in Thurayā (produced by MBC) [see Fig. 4]. The airing of both these shows was followed by a symposium called “Art Speaks,” jointly held by Rawasi and Kuwaitis without Borders, where some of the actors, writers and activists got together to discuss the cause and the positive impact that the media can have on shaping people’s perceptions. Thurayā’s director, Muḥammad al‑Shammārī said that he understands the suffering because he is born to a Saudi father and a Kuwaiti mother, and his children, whose mother is Kuwaiti, will be in the same position.50 However, the overwhelming tide of legal and social commentary still insists that the children of Kuwaiti women are foreigners and they are therefore not to be treated as equal to the children of Kuwaiti fathers. The most potent social argument for denying Kuwaiti women the right to pass citizenship onto their children is the insistence that nationality and belonging are preserved only through the paternal line, ignoring the role that a mother plays in identity formation, when in fact “maternal preferences of traditional culture were as correlated with their children’s national identity.”51 The majority of public opinion portrayed in the media promotes the idea that fathers are the natural transmitters of national identity, while simultaneously advocating the need for stay‑at‑home mothers to take care of children and raise them with a sense of belonging. In this sense, then, despite the mother being regarded as the ‘natural’ care‑giver, the father remains the legitimate transmitter of citizenship. It seems that for women from the Arabian Gulf, belonging is only valid if it is attached to a husband or father figure from their own states.
Fig. 4. A poster for the family drama Thurayā that dealt with the struggle of Kuwaiti women married to non‑nationals. Infographic by Al‑Rai Institute showing the decrease in the number of women in political office.
- 52 UNHCR, 2017.
- 53 Mathiessen, 2015, p. 25‑45.
- 54 ‘Āmir, 2017.
40In 2018, there are only 26 countries in the world that discriminate against female nationals in terms of citizenship rights and Kuwait is one of them.52 In theory, replicating the Egyptian citizenship law amendment 154/2004 that states that “an Egyptian citizen is he or she who is born to an Egyptian mother or father” and applying it to Kuwait should be easy. However, the process of citizenship granting and nationality has become extremely contentious in recent years, and is fraught with multitudes of “identity entrepreneurs”; what Toby Mathiessen defines as those “activists who create, politicize, and profit from identities to further political aims.”53 When activists claim one Kuwaiti authenticity is superior to another, then it will not be a simple matter of bringing sovereign will to bear on the issue, especially while Kuwaiti legislators insist that ”differentiating between native and naturalized Kuwaitis is necessary.”54 Even though Kuwait’s naturalization laws have a clearly defined period for non‑Kuwaitis to be considered for citizenship, the process seems to have been stalled indefinitely, irrespective of whether the person applying has a Kuwaiti mother or not.
41A 2015 GCC‑wide study focusing on the many issues facing women married to non‑nationals found that it is only with increased representation that the legislative obstacles can be overcome. Such legislative issues include “problems with sponsorship for the spouse and children, issuing residency permits and renewing them, education for their offspring and later finding job opportunities for them, including their exclusion from military service and other defense positions. These are compounded by housing issues, mobility issues within the GCC for spouse and children, and inheritance problems for the husband and children of national women married to non‑nationals.”55
- 56 UNHCR, 2017.
- 57 Dr Masooma Mubarak, quoted in “Larry suggests Point System to Grant Citizenship to the Children of (...)
- 58 OECD‑MENA, Women in Public Life MENA Brochure, 2015.
- 59 McKeran, 2017.
- 60 Fattah, Bloomberg, April 13, 2017.
42According to a UNCHR study,56 there is a direct correlation between women achieving economic independence and greater political participation, and their ability to exert enough pressure on policy makers to re‑examine these laws that do not permit females to pass on citizenship. This fight for the right to grant nationality to their children is part of the wider struggle of women’s empowerment and legal rights in the GCC area. The relationship between political representation and the improvement of the status of women’s rights is clear; in the case of Kuwait, a National Assembly Women’s Committee was formed in 2006 but was not put into action until four female MP’s reached office in 2009.57 In Saudi Arabia, Oman and the UAE the rights of women to pass nationality on to their children was not highlighted until female Shūrā and Federal Council members began to bring it up in legislative discussions. Even though there are some female policy makers in the cabinet and the elected offices of most GCC states today, the numbers are still too low for them to make an impact, or form strong lobbies to counteract the tide of conservative male traditions that dictate the majority of the legal rhetoric. In fact, a recent OECD study58 found that one of the reasons that the social, economic and legal status of women in the MENA region was not improving was their very low representation in policy making positions within the government and other legislative bodies. This is compounded by the rising tide of global populism to which Kuwait has not been immune. It seems that anti‑immigrant sentiments are getting more overt in terms of policies (for example, designating the new Jaber Hospital for Kuwaitis only).59 This makes it more difficult to argue in favor of greater inclusion for the non‑national children of Kuwaiti mothers, especially when some legislators have adopted attitudes that seem to be pointedly unwelcoming to these expat residents and workers, who, according to MP Ṣafā’ al Hāshīm (incidentally the only woman in office) are “sucking up the state’s resources.”60
43Except for Kuwait, there are few independent civil society organizations in the Arabian Gulf states, and fewer still that focus on the promotion of women’s issues or the rights of female nationals married to non‑nationals. Most are committees that work under the umbrella of a larger government entity, or belong to a policy making body concerned with family issues, and they consider developments from the perspective of local governments and not the women and children who suffer because of discriminations practiced against them. Although some independent organizations are trying to raise awareness around the suffering of these families, they still need on‑the‑ground support: lawyers, psychologists, social workers to provide advice and guidance to those planning to marry or those already married to non‑nationals, and advocates who will lobby for their cause with policy makers and legislators.
- 61 These statements were made during the Kuwaiti Lawyers Association Forum on the status of Kuwaiti w (...)
- 62 Al‑Malki, Al Jazeera English, April 21, 2012.
44There seems to be a cognitive disconnect between the new demographic realities on the ground in the GCC and the regulations that exist to preserve control over women’s citizenship. This fear of diluting national identity by granting nationality to the children of women nationals is fundamentally flawed in its logic. According to MP Ṣalāḥ ‘Āshūr, who has headed the committee for Women and Family Affairs over the past two parliamentary sessions, there have been 70,000 cases of naturalized wives of Kuwaiti men since the liberation of Kuwait in 1991. He revealed that in comparison, only 1000 children born to Kuwaiti women had been granted nationality during the same period of time.61 It would seem that men, with the flexibility of marrying up to four wives at a time, and with no punitive legal repercussions to marrying non‑Kuwaiti women, are more likely to disrupt national narratives of ‘pureness’ than women, especially when those elements are mothers tasked with forming future identities. As Amal al‑Malki points out, thinking of identity in “static terms”62 is a fallacy that should be reviewed in Qatar and elsewhere in the Arabian Gulf States.
45The discrimination against women nationals married to non‑nationals and against their offspring must be seen in terms of a wider discrimination against non‑nationals dwelling within the GCC. It is clear that this is no longer a discourse just about gender but about inclusion and attitudes towards migrant populations. Perhaps as the price of oil continues to go down, the post‑oil citizenship discourse will no longer be so benefits oriented.