Living in a globalized world, many of us juggle connections to multiple countries. When it comes to Ukraine, the topic of dual citizenship often sparks curiosity. Let’s unpack this: Ukraine’s Citizenship Law, Article 2, explicitly states that holding another nationality isn’t illegal, but the country doesn’t formally recognize dual citizenship except in specific cases. For instance, if you’re born to Ukrainian parents abroad or acquire citizenship through bilateral agreements with countries like Belarus or Georgia, exceptions apply. In 2021, over 1,200 individuals leveraged these exemptions, according to State Migration Service data.
Now, imagine you’re a tech professional eyeing opportunities in Kyiv’s booming IT sector, which grew 23% annually between 2019 and 2023. You might wonder, “Can I keep my Canadian passport while gaining Ukrainian citizenship?” The answer hinges on bilateral agreements. Since Canada and Ukraine lack such a treaty, you’d technically need to renounce Canadian citizenship—but enforcement remains inconsistent. A 2023 survey by the Ukrainian Legal Advisory Group found that 68% of dual nationals faced no practical issues unless they held public office or security roles.
Take Maria, a Ukrainian-American entrepreneur who launched a renewable energy startup in Lviv last year. She retained both passports by naturalizing under Ukraine’s “territorial origin” clause, which requires proving at least one parent or grandparent was born in modern Ukrainian borders. Her application took seven months and cost €550 in legal fees, plus a €85 biometric passport fee. “The bureaucracy felt endless,” she admits, “but accessing EU trade agreements made it worthwhile.”
Here’s a curveball: What if you’re a descendant of Ukrainians displaced during WWII? The “Compatriots Abroad” program fast-tracks citizenship for diaspora members, slashing processing times from 18 months to just 5-7 months. In 2022 alone, 4,500 applicants—mostly from Argentina and Brazil—used this route. You’ll need archival documents like birth certificates or Soviet-era internal passports. Pro tip: The Obtain a Ukrainian Passport guide breaks down how to navigate archival databases efficiently.
Critics argue Ukraine’s approach creates ambiguity. After the 2014 Crimea annexation, Russia issued passports to residents, leading to 320,000 dual nationals in disputed territories by 2023. Ukraine’s response? A 2020 amendment denying citizenship to those who “voluntarily” acquired Russian passports in occupied areas. Yet, humanitarian exceptions exist—like for journalist Oleksiy Matsuka, who kept his Ukrainian passport after fleeing Donetsk despite holding Russian documents obtained under duress.
Financial considerations matter too. While the application fee is a modest ₴1,300 ($35), hidden costs pile up: notarized translations (€20-50 per page), legal consultations (€150/hour), and mandatory health insurance (€300/year). For investors, the “golden passport” route requires a $100,000 state bond purchase or creating 10+ jobs locally. Dmitry, a venture capitalist from Berlin, chose the bond option: “The 5.5% annual yield sweetened the deal—it’s cheaper than Portugal’s golden visa program.”
Language barriers trip up many. The citizenship test includes a B1-level Ukrainian exam with a 72% pass rate in 2023. Prep courses in Warsaw and Toronto charge €450-€800, but free apps like “MovableUA” cut study time by 40%, according to a Kyiv Polytechnic University study.
So, is dual citizenship feasible? Technically no, but functionally yes—if you’re not in government or military roles. The system winks at everyday citizens while drawing hard lines geopolitically. With reforms accelerating to align with EU standards, expect tighter checks on Russian-linked dual nationals but smoother paths for diaspora investors. One thing’s clear: Ukraine’s passport remains a bridge between East and West, its value shifting with every geopolitical tremor.