Spain's Parliament Approves Citizenship for Tens of Thousands of Sahrawis—A Recognition of Colonial Debt

Spain’s Congress has approved legislation granting citizenship to Sahrawi people born in Western Sahara before September 29, 1977, along with their descendants, in a move that could affect between 70,000 and 110,000 people. The vote—168 in favor, 31 against, and 145 abstentions—now sends the bill to the Spanish Senate for final approval. It marks a reckoning Spain has long delayed: acknowledging its historical responsibility to populations it governed but left behind when it abandoned the territory in 1975.

The practical mechanics matter less than what they reveal about how societies choose to reckon with their past. Spain ruled Western Sahara for nearly a century before withdrawing, leaving a vacuum filled by Morocco and a conflict that has since displaced hundreds of thousands. Those born before the cutoff date lived their lives as Spanish subjects, educated in Spanish schools, governed by Spanish law. When Spain departed, it did not offer them the choice most colonial powers extended to their overseas subjects: citizenship in the metropole. This bill, decades late, attempts to correct that omission. The legislation grants nationality through naturalisation, even to those who never physically resided in Spain—recognition that citizenship can be a debt of historical responsibility, not merely a reward for current residence.

The voting pattern reveals something important about contemporary European politics. The abstentions from the ruling Partido Popular and Junts suggest political caution—neither party wanted to be clearly counted for or against acknowledging colonial obligations. Vox’s opposition is ideologically consistent; the far-right faction views expansive citizenship as cultural dilution. But the passage itself, with clear majority support, shows that Spain’s political center still accepts the principle that former subjects deserve a pathway to belonging. This contrasts sharply with how other former colonial powers have handled similar populations, often consigning them to legal limbo for generations.

The bill’s timing coincides with broader European reckonings with colonialism, though Spain’s process has been notably slower than some peers. Morocco, which now controls most of Western Sahara, has not recognised Sahrawi independence, and the dispute remains unresolved at the UN. This Spanish move doesn’t solve that conflict—it sidesteps it. But it does something quieter and perhaps more important: it says that Spain accepts responsibility for those it left behind, regardless of who now governs that territory. The descendants of Spanish Saharans will now have options for citizenship that their parents were denied.

If the Senate approves, tens of thousands of people whose lives were shaped by Spanish colonialism will gain access to EU citizenship, mobility within the bloc, and the rights that entails. It is neither revolutionary nor complete justice. But it is a specific acknowledgment that decolonisation was not merely about withdrawing—it was about ensuring that those affected by colonial rule have a voice in deciding where they belong. Spain’s delayed approval is overdue. It should also remind us that citizenship, at its best, is not merely a badge of current membership but a recognition of shared history, even when that history is uncomfortable.