Foreigners move closer to Ukrainian citizenship with new draft law, but red tape obscures their path

For years, foreigners seeking a Ukrainian passport faced a tough choice: renounce their original citizenship or give up on becoming Ukrainian. Now, that barrier will likely be removed, as Ukraine prepares to allow dual citizenship for the first time.

Since taking office in 2019, President Volodymyr Zelensky has declared his intention to allow dual citizenship in Ukraine.

“To all who are ready to build a new, strong and successful Ukraine, I will gladly grant Ukrainian citizenship,” he said in his inaugural address in 2019.

Five years later, in January 2024, Zelensky finally introduced a bill that would allow dual citizenship “for all who wish to feel that being in Ukraine means being home.”

The process moved forward on June 18, when the Verkhovna Rada, Ukraine’s parliament, voted to lift the longstanding ban on holding multiple citizenships, signaling a historic shift in Ukraine’s approach to nationhood.

Many foreigners living in Ukraine have welcomed the news bringing them one step closer to becoming Ukrainian citizens.

“For some, being Ukrainian is a birthright. For others, it is a choice,” Paul Niland, an Irish businessman who has called Ukraine home for over two decades, told the Kyiv Independent.

“To be officially recognized as Ukrainian would be a source of great pride.”

Yet, for some foreigners — including those with ancestral claims and International Legion veterans who fought alongside Ukrainians against Russia — the path to citizenship is obstructed by a number of bureaucratic hurdles, casting painful doubt on how swiftly their dreams can come true.

'A state of mind'

What began as a planned six-month stay turned into more than two decades for Irish-born businessman Niland, who came to Ukraine 23 years ago to originally visit some friends — and never looked back.

During his time in Ukraine, Niland has witnessed and taken part in the country’s defining democratic political upheavals — the Orange Revolution to the Revolution of Dignity (EuroMaidan Revolution) — while also carving out a role in the country’s evolving civil society. He has become invested in doing his part to help the country grow, he says.

Niland founded Lifeline Ukraine in 2019 as a crisis hotline dedicated to supporting war veterans grappling with emotional and psychological distress. Since then, the service has expanded its mission, offering critical mental health support to anyone in Ukraine in need.

For Niland, the prospect of a dual citizenship law “is a very important way of acknowledging the dedication that some people, despite not being born here, have to the country.”

“This great nation has gone through struggles that I have been a part of and so this kind of acceptance of others is a recognition of our common values, the values that (the Euro)Maidan was about and what we have fought for ever since,” he said.

“Freedom, independence, building a better country for our children — if we share these goals and values, becoming Ukrainian is first and foremost a state of mind.”

Despite Ukrainian not being his native language, Niland’s “generally not concerned” about the compulsory tests in the Ukrainian language, history, and constitution. He says he started speaking Ukrainian in his day-to-day life a few years ago, and he’s ready to study the constitution and history in detail —  it’s just a necessary formality in taking another step to deepening his ties with the country he has long regarded as home.

Why ancestry citizenship isn’t always easy

Part of the proposed legislation aims to encourage members of the Ukrainian diaspora to pursue citizenship and strengthen their ties to the country. However, the process remains difficult for some of those who originally come from the Ukrainian diaspora and who have already been trying for years to get citizenship.

Journalist Larisa Kalik moved to Ukraine in 2020 after a criminal case was opened against her in her native Transnistria, a part of Moldova under Russian-occupation, for reporting on the systemic abuses of conscripts in the military.

She chose to relocate to Ukraine because it brought her “both safety and a deep sense of belonging.” Kalik’s grandfather was also born in Lviv Oblast, and so she wanted to pursue her claim to ancestral citizenship over applying for refugee status.

“On paper, applying for citizenship through ancestry seems straightforward. In reality, it’s much harder,” she told the Kyiv Independent.

“I have my grandfather’s birth certificate, but his record isn’t in the digital registry. When I reached out to the archives, responses were delayed, and eventually I was told there’s no official record there, either.”

To move her case forward, Kalik would likely have to go to court to try and officially prove that her grandfather was born and raised in Ukraine — a step that could lead to a new birth certificate being issued.

The prospect of further lengthy delays for basic paperwork has discouraged her from prioritizing the process, dimming her hopes of moving from her current residency status to full citizenship.

“Though I say this with full respect and understanding for how much Ukraine is already navigating due to Russia’s full-scale war,” she added.

Although Kalik cares deeply about her native Moldova, she says the bonds she has built in Ukraine run much deeper — especially while living in Kyiv and reporting from the front line through Russia’s full-scale invasion. Her Ukrainian friends have also never treated her as a foreigner, and she speaks Ukrainian as a native language.

For her, obtaining a Ukrainian passport would simply formalize an identity she already fully embraces.

“I really hope Ukraine’s approach to citizenship for foreigners becomes more dynamic and responsive — especially for those of us who’ve chosen to stay, contribute, and become part of this country,” she said.

“It’s in Ukraine’s interest to open the door to those who’ve come here with open hearts and good intentions.”

Foreign fighters’ struggles after battlefield

When Russia launched its full-scale war against Ukraine, Anthony — whose name has been changed due to security concerns — took up arms in a branch of the International Legion to defend the country. He considers Ukraine his home more than the Western country where he was born and couldn’t just sit around when so many innocent people were being killed.

But now, his future in Ukraine is uncertain due to a series of bureaucratic hurdles — despite risking his life to defend the country.

Foreign recruits must serve a minimum of three years in the International Legion to qualify for permanent residency, which is an important step toward applying for citizenship. Anthony, however, left the International Legion after two and a half years, due to internal problems within the organization that put people’s lives at what he said was unnecessary additional risk and made remaining near impossible.

A 2022 investigation by the Kyiv Independent into one branch of Ukraine’s Foreign Legion revealed that leadership was involved in a number of alleged scandals, including abuse, theft, and sending soldiers unprepared on reckless missions.

Despite the challenges he faced in the International Legion, his love for Ukraine — where he spent significant time before the full-scale invasion — remains strong. It’s hard to imagine a future anywhere else, he says.

“After living here, fighting for Ukraine, risking my life for it and its people, I feel part of this country. Even when I go back to (my home country in the West), it doesn’t feel like home anymore,” he told the Kyiv Independent.

“(Obtaining Ukrainian citizenship) is a real recognition of the sacrifices and risks people like I have undertaken when we answered the call to defend the country. I lost a lot of friends that will never have this chance. I may not be Ukrainian by ethnicity or birth, but I feel Ukrainian in my fight against Russia, and the possibility of receiving Ukrainian citizenship is a recognition of that.”

Once an International Legion contract ends, former soldiers have three months to formally resign or depart. After multiple deployments — some of which Anthony believed he might not survive — he now finds himself adrift, uncertain about his next steps.

In legal terms, his status is now equivalent to that of a tourist, subject to the 180-day visa-free stay permitted in Ukraine. While he could seek a temporary residence permit, he says doing so almost feels like a forced attempt to extract some recognition for his military service.

“I killed the enemy in combat, risked my life many times. I did my job silently and not for attention. But I’m basically nothing in the eyes of the state right now.”

Note from the author:

Hi there, it's Kate Tsurkan, thank you for reading my latest piece. As a foreigner living in Ukraine for many years, I couldn't be more excited by the prospect of becoming a Ukrainian citizen. Yet, I know there's a lot of bureaucratic red tape that could make the dreams of foreigners like myself to become Ukrainian citizens difficult to realize. That being said, I'm confident Ukraine will overcome these issues. If you like reading this sort of thing, please consider supporting us and becoming a member of the Kyiv Independent today.