While most Middle East analysts are focused on genocide in the Gaza Strip, another regional arena is experiencing major turmoil away from the spotlight, thanks to a ruling family long accustomed to keeping its internal affairs hidden behind a veil of secrecy.
Kuwait, the Gulf state once known for its calm, is now facing an unprecedented crisis that threatens its historical stability, driven by an internal family struggle that has put the line of succession at risk. This conflict is fuelled by accounts in circulation which suggest that a former emir did not step down due to illness, as was declared officially, but was instead forced to relinquish power under mysterious circumstances, opening a new chapter in the emirate’s political trajectory.
The story bears the hallmarks of a grand political drama: vast wealth, sweeping influence, tangled family ties, loyalty and betrayal, and a battle for the throne. At its centre lies the late Emir Sheikh Saad Al-Abdullah Al-Salem Al-Sabah, who abdicated in 2006 just days after assuming office, an event that continues to shape the state’s trajectory to this day.
However, internal unrest has not been limited to disputes within the ruling family. In the past six months alone, roughly 42,000 people have been stripped of their Kuwaiti citizenship after the emir suspended the elected parliament, which is the only one of its kind in the region. Since the loss of one parent’s nationality automatically strips it from their children as well, the true number of those affected is far higher. Many suddenly found themselves without identity papers, trapped inside the country or stranded abroad in the UK, the US and Canada, and applying for asylum.
Public anger is now directed squarely at the current emir, Sheikh Mishal Al-Ahmad Al-Jaber Al-Sabah, 86, who spearheaded the wide-ranging citizenship revocation campaign. Targets included foreign wives who had gained nationality through marriage, naturalised citizens once rewarded for their community service, and even entire families from specific tribes. In 2024, the emir launched a secret hotline for Kuwaitis to report suspected dual nationals — holding dual nationality is an offence under Kuwaiti law — broadening the climate of suspicion and denunciation.
The Kuwaiti authorities insist that the goal is to combat “fraud”, but critics argue that this is nothing more than a harsh campaign against naturalised citizens, with some going so far as to describe it as “ethnic cleansing”. The alarm only grew louder after the emir spoke repeatedly of “purifying” Kuwaiti society, labelling those with acquired nationality as “impurities”. Most controversially, he banned courts from reviewing citizenship cases, declaring the matter to be his “personal prerogative”, leaving tens of thousands stateless overnight.
What makes the crackdown even more contentious is the lack of accountability for the senior officials who facilitated fraudulent naturalisations for decades, including ministers and prime ministers from within the ruling family, many of whom are still alive. The fact that punishment has been meted out only to ordinary citizens, while powerful insiders remain untouched, has deepened suspicions of selective justice and double standards.
These harsh policies have sparked widespread outrage, to the point that social media platforms in recent months have been filled with biting, even mocking, commentary aimed directly at the emir himself. Publicly disparaging the ruler — a taboo in Kuwaiti society — marks a dramatic erosion of respect for the office of emir, and is seen as a direct threat to the prestige of the position.
Dissent has also spread within the ruling family itself, fuelled by high-profile prosecutions targeting figures with broad popular support. Former Interior Minister Talal Khalid Al-Sabah and former Defence Minister Sheikh Ahmad Al-Fahad Al-Sabah are scheduled to stand trial this month; both enjoy strong followings. For many Kuwaitis, the spectacle reinforces the perception that the campaign is little more than factional score-settling under the guise of legality.
Amid this tense atmosphere, the case of Ahmad Mohammad Ahmad Yusuf — the son of Sheikha Hessa Saad Al-Abdullah Al-Sabah — has attracted attention. Ahmad was stripped of his nationality after a verbal dispute with the interior minister, the emir’s powerful second-in-command. Forced into exile in Lebanon for his own safety, Ahmad now endures hardship, cut off from his mother — his only parent — and from his grandmother, Sheikha Latifa, whom he calls his spiritual refuge. Yet he insists that his personal difficulties and suffering pale into relative insignificance beside those of Kuwaiti women and mothers whose citizenship has been revoked, voicing deep empathy for their plight.
In an exclusive interview with me for Middle East Monitor, Ahmad revealed that he had escaped from Kuwait with sensitive documents shedding light on the murky circumstances of his grandfather’s removal in 2006. Sheikh Saad was deposed after only nine days as emir, on the eve of a parliamentary session meant to confirm his position formally. While the official narrative cited ill health, Ahmad says that his grandfather told him personally before his death in 2008 that he was forced to step down under political pressure. Ahmad emphasises that his goal in revealing this is only to document the historical truth, not to challenge the state.
Meanwhile, opposition sources speak of a “revenge list” prepared by the Kuwaiti authorities, naming ten prominent individuals, including Ahmad Mohammad Ahmad Yusuf. Retaliatory measures already enacted include stripping citizenship from the wives and children of political opponents, a shocking precedent that leaves women and children stateless because of the political views of their husbands and fathers. This humanitarian dimension has transformed what began as a family dispute into an unprecedented social tragedy.
Exiled dissidents now endure harsh conditions in Canada, Britain and France, with reports resembling the plots of spy thrillers: frozen bank accounts, fabricated charges, disappearances after being lured abroad, and even allegations of sorcery and witchcraft being used against opponents. These claims contribute to the sense of a state entering uncharted internal conflict.
With the emir suspending parliament and freezing parts of the Kuwaiti constitution for four years, student union and cooperative elections were also halted. Former MPs languish in prison for “defying the emir’s authority.” The result is a deepening sense of political deadlock and suffocation.
Despite the gravity of the situation, international reaction has been muted. Kuwait is among the world’s largest oil producers, holding six per cent of proven reserves and supplying three per cent of global output, yet its internal crisis has attracted limited attention and comment from overseas. Observers warn, however, that the death of the aging emir could trigger dangerous fragmentation, reshaping international calculations.
“In the past, Kuwaitis defended their democratic institutions with backing from outside powers,” noted Kristin Smith Diwan of the Arab Gulf States Institute in Washington. “Today, they live in fear of mass denationalisation, while the United States remains silent.”
Immigration lawyer Danielle Cohen added: “Kuwait has long struggled with the issue of the stateless Bidoon and citizenship disputes, but under Emir Mishal the situation has escalated dramatically, with tens of thousands stripped of [their] nationality. This raises serious human rights concerns and the spectre of spreading statelessness.” Statelessness is clearly a much deeper and long-existing issue in the region. The Bidoon in the context of the article are an oppressed stateless minority whose statelessness predates the mass citizenship revocation campaign that is ongoing at the moment in Kuwait. They are a people from various tribal backgrounds, mainly from northern origins ie South Iraq. Since the implementation of Kuwait’s citizenship law in the 60s, many inhabitants either failed to register for citizenship at the time or were refused outright due to discrimination. Today, more than 60 years and almost four generations later, the Bidoon are still denied citizenship despite their proven history of residence in the country.
While Saudi Arabia, Qatar and the UAE have reinvented themselves as dynamic hubs hosting global sporting and cultural events, Kuwaitis increasingly see their country becoming stagnant, lacking vision or ambition, and sliding into a conservative isolationism. The bitter irony is that the regime’s drive to preserve “stability” has instead left Kuwait more fragile than ever. Kuwaiti citizens, meanwhile, even though they are not refugees, now face the nightmare of losing both their nationality and their homeland.
The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Monitor.






