1. Introduction
The intensification of debates on international mobility reveals circulation regimes permeated by hierarchies of nationality and race. In this scenario, Benin’s policy of recognizing nationality for people of African descent stands out as an attempt at legal and symbolic reconnection with populations dispersed by the transatlantic slave trade. This article critically analyzes this policy, articulating historical and legal dimensions with the dynamics of contemporary mobility. It seeks to understand the formation of Benin, the evolution of its diaspora-focused legislation, connections with Brazil (external link), and the implications of this citizenship for Brazilians. In light of this, it questions: what are the actual impacts of acquiring Beninese nationality for Afro-Brazilians, both as a tool of identity reconnection and as a legal resource within an unequal and racialized global mobility system?
2. From the Kingdom of Dahomey to Contemporary Benin
Understanding the formation of contemporary Benin requires situating it as the outcome of a historical process marked by political continuities and reconfigurations, in which the centrality of the former Kingdom of Dahomey stands out. This is because present-day Beninese territory, located in West Africa, was for centuries structured by complex political formations whose social, cultural, and institutional foundation was deeply influenced by groups such as the Fon and the Edo, who consolidated systems of centralized political organization and cultural practices that still permeate the national identity today (Muzaffar, 2025). In this context, the Kingdom of Dahomey, especially between the 17th and 18th centuries, emerged as one of the region's main political powers, combining military power, trade networks, and administrative mechanisms that indelibly shaped the internal dynamics of the territory (Muzaffar, 2025).
However, the consolidation of these structures did not occur in isolation, as the kingdom's integration into Atlantic trade networks—particularly the transatlantic slave trade—spurred significant transformations in local economic and political relations, while linking the region to a global logic of exploitation (Muzaffar, 2025). Subsequently, this process was deepened with European imperial expansion in the late 19th century, when, in the context of the Scramble for Africa, France established a protectorate over the territory, imposing new administrative forms that subordinated local leaders and restructured political and economic organization in accordance with colonial interests (Muzaffar, 2025).
Thus, independence, achieved in 1960 under the name of the Republic of Dahomey, did not, however, mean an immediate rupture with these structural legacies; it was followed by a period of political instability marked by successive coups d'état and internal disputes surrounding the construction of a cohesive national identity (Muzaffar, 2025). In this setting, the renaming of the country to the People's Republic of Benin in 1975 constitutes a particularly significant milestone, as it represented a deliberate attempt to break away from regional and ethnic associations tied to former Dahomey, while seeking to assert a unifying political project ideologically guided by socialist principles (Muzaffar, 2025). This change highlights, therefore, the relatively recent nature of the very designation “Benin”, revealing that the construction of the nation-state took place gradually, shaped by political disputes, ideological experimentation, and institutional adaptation processes.
Currently, according to data provided by the World Bank, the country has an estimated population of 14,462,724 inhabitants (2024), while recording a negative migration balance, with net migration of -7,847 people (2025)—elements that, although concise, indicate contemporary demographic dynamics relevant to understanding its international standing.
In light of this historical trajectory, marked by displacements, political reconfigurations, and disputes over the construction of a national identity, questions emerge regarding how this past is mobilized in the present and how the Beninese state has sought to position itself in relation to the legacies of the African diaspora. In this context, it is pertinent to investigate which instruments have been adopted, upon what legal and political foundations they are built, and what implications they may have both domestically and in international dynamics.
3. Beninese Nationality Law for People of African Descent
The policy of recognizing Beninese nationality for people of African descent is a recent initiative by the State of Benin that allows individuals of African descent, whose ancestors were displaced in the context of the transatlantic slave trade, to request a legal bond with the country. In this regard, as indicated by the government of the Republic of Benin itself, the initiative expresses the intention to assume a historical responsibility associated with this process, while seeking to rebuild ties with dispersed populations and project the national territory as a space of memory, belonging, and future. Thus, the measure is presented not only as a legal instrument, but as part of a policy of reconnection, in which the recognition of nationality also takes on reparatory and identity-related value.
This perspective is reinforced by state authorities, such as the Minister of Justice and Legislation, Mr. Yvon Detchenou, who emphasizes that extending nationality to people of African descent reflects a logic of justice and recognition, anchored in the idea of a right of return (NOME, DATA). By enshrining such a possibility in legal terms, the Beninese state joins a broader movement of reconciliation with its diaspora, while mobilizing a political narrative that seeks to reframe the historical dispersal of these populations. Not coincidentally, the adoption of this policy is frequently presented as part of a collective project of national reaffirmation, in which the diaspora comes to occupy a central place in building the present and projecting the country's future.
At the normative level, this initiative is situated within a recent context of legislative reforms, as the adoption of a specific law aimed at people of African descent in 2024 followed the 2022 revision of the Beninese Nationality Code, which introduced significant adjustments to the legal nationality regime, including the elimination of discriminatory provisions and the strengthening of birth-related criteria (Benim, 2022, 2024). Within this framework, Benin stands out as one of the first African states to explicitly establish a mechanism for acquiring nationality “by recognition” aimed at diaspora populations, aligning—albeit with its own specificities—with initiatives observed in other West African countries. Furthermore, the formulation of this policy dialogues with broader international dynamics, as it connects both with the International Decade for People of African Descent proclaimed by the United Nations General Assembly and with the African Union's recognition of the diaspora as an extension of the continent itself.
It is, therefore, from this framework that it becomes possible to understand the normative evolution sustaining this policy: beginning with the revision of the Beninese Nationality Code in 2022, consolidating with the creation in 2024 of a specific regime for recognizing nationality for people of African descent, and subsequently being refined by legislative amendments in 2025 that reformulate procedural aspects and the legal effects of this mechanism. Among these modifications, key elements include the formalization of the certificate of eligibility as a mandatory intermediate step with a three-year validity, the explicit possibility of applying from abroad, and the requirement of staying in Beninese territory within this period for the definitive acquisition of nationality. Furthermore, the updated legislation more precisely outlines the rights associated with recognition, including freedom of entry, stay, and exit from the territory, the right to obtain a Beninese passport, the transmission of nationality to minor descendants, and the possibility of subsequent access to full citizenship following a minimum residency period (Benim, 2025).
Given this scenario, it becomes relevant to shift the analysis to the Brazilian context, where, according to the IBGE's 2022 Census, the Black population constitutes the majority, accounting for 55.5% of the inhabitants. Considering the historical centrality of the connections between the Bight of Benin and Brazil within the framework of the transatlantic slave trade and diaspora dynamics, it is necessary to question to what extent the Beninese policy of nationality recognition can produce concrete effects for Afro-descendant Brazilians. In this sense, the following question arises: in an international context marked by migratory asymmetries and passport hierarchies, where Brazilians—and, even more acutely, Afro-descendants—already face restrictions and mechanisms of suspicion, what would in fact be the impacts of acquiring Beninese nationality, whether as an instrument of historical and identity reconnection, or as a legal resource in a global system of unequal mobility?
4. Benin–Brazil Relations
Understanding relations between Benin and Brazil initially requires situating them within the dynamics established by the transatlantic trafficking of enslaved persons, particularly between the seventeenth and nineteenth centuries, when structural connections between the Bight of Benin and Bahia were consolidated. As demonstrated by Verger (2021), this process was not limited to the forced circulation of individuals, but entailed the formation of an articulated system of economic, social, and cultural exchanges that enduringly bound both shores of the Atlantic. In this context, the so-called Mina Coast (Costa da Mina), a region encompassing a significant part of contemporary Beninese territory, played a central role in supplying enslaved people to Salvador, which, in turn, constituted one of the main receiving hubs in the Portuguese colonial space.
The intensity of these relations was sustained by specific economic foundations, as the trade established between Bahia and the Mina Coast was largely structured around the exchange of tobacco produced in Bahian territory for the acquisition of enslaved persons in West Africa. This dynamic, as the author points out, not only ensured the continuity of the Atlantic flow, but also granted Bahia a unique position within the slave system, distinguishing it from other regions of Brazil. At the same time, the organization of the slave trade itself underwent transformations over time, making it possible to identify different cycles, prominently including, in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, the intensification of connections with the Bight of Benin—a period during which the presence of groups such as the Yoruba and Dahomeans increased in the composition of Bahia's enslaved population.
However, the relevance of these relations is not limited to the economic dimension. Verger (2021) highlights that the arrival of these groups occurred, in many cases, in contexts that favored the preservation of relatively cohesive cultural structures, whether due to the regional concentration of trafficked individuals or the presence of religious and social leaders who played an active role in maintaining original practices and values. As a result, a cultural environment profoundly marked by references from the Bight of Benin emerged in Bahia, perceptible in the endurance of religious worship, such as that associated with the orishas and voduns, as well as in linguistic and dietary practices that still constitute core elements of local identity today.
On the other hand, this process was not unidirectional. Throughout the nineteenth century, especially in the face of transformations in the slave regime and abolitionist pressures, freed Africans returned to the Bight of Benin, many of whom had lived in Bahia and incorporated Brazilian cultural practices. These movements not only demonstrate the complexity of individual trajectories in the post-slave trade era, but also contributed to the formation of social communities marked by Brazilian cultural references on African soil.
Thus, as Verger (2021) synthesizes, the transatlantic slave trade between the Bight of Benin and Bahia gave rise to a movement of “flux and reflux,” in which not only people, but also cultural practices, values, and forms of sociability crossed the Atlantic in both directions. This process resulted in the constitution of Africans in Brazil and Brazilians in Africa, showing that relations between these spaces cannot be understood solely through the logic of rupture, but also through continuity and the historical reconfiguration of ties.
It is within this framework that it becomes possible to understand, from a contemporary perspective, initiatives seeking to reactivate these historical connections. The recent granting of Beninese citizenship to philosopher and activist Sueli Carneiro—who stands not only as the first Brazilian to apply through this process, but also represents the first case of Beninese citizenship by recognition, formalized with the delivery of her passport in 2026—is part of this movement by materializing, at the legal level, a relationship with deep roots in the historical formation of both countries. For, in being recognized as a citizen in a gesture linked to historical reparation, her trajectory illustrates how current policies can mobilize this shared past, revitalizing, on new foundations, ties established throughout the Atlantic slave trade, while bringing debates on belonging, return, and the rebuilding of historically severed ties back into circulation.
4.1 Brazilian Communities in Benin
The presence of Brazilian communities in Benin constitutes a unique historical and cultural phenomenon within the context of international relations and transatlantic flows. Unlike other countries where Brazilians form communities through recent migrations, Benin has a consolidated heritage dating back to the nineteenth century, linked to the return of formerly enslaved people and the activities of Brazilian merchants, especially from Bahia. This group, known as the Agudás, is recognized as an Afro-Brazilian community that preserves distinctive traits of Brazilian culture outside the national territory.
The Agudás are descendants of Africans enslaved in Brazil who returned to Africa following abolition or during the decline of the slave trade. Upon settling in Benin, they brought with them cultural, religious, and social elements acquired in Brazil, forming a hybrid identity. According to Guran (2019), this identity is grounded not only in ancestry, but also in everyday practices—from gastronomy to architecture—that reaffirm their cultural distinctiveness.
Many maintained Portuguese surnames, such as Silva, Souza, and Almeida, and occupied prominent positions in local society. In addition, they consolidated cultural practices that reflect this heritage, such as religious festivals inspired by Brazilian Catholicism. This dynamic is understood by Verger (1987) as part of a “round-trip” flow that established enduring connections between Bahia and the Bight of Benin.
Brazilian influence in Benin is noticeable across various dimensions, such as religion, cuisine, and architecture. In the religious realm, a connection between Vodun and Candomblé can be observed, highlighting cultural exchanges marked by circularity between Africa and the Americas. In culinary traditions and, above all, architecture, this influence is also prominent. As Cunha (1985) notes, Brazilian construction techniques, such as ornate two-story townhouses (sobrados) and sash windows, became markers of social prestige. Taken together, this demonstrates that the relationship between Brazil and Benin goes beyond the past of slavery, shaping a continuous network of cultural and identity influences.
In contemporary times, the Brazilian presence takes on a distinct configuration, consisting of a smaller and less structured community composed of expatriates, diplomats, businesspeople, and researchers. These individuals are concentrated in urban centers such as Cotonou and Porto-Novo, establishing more fluid and temporary support networks.
From the perspective of international relations, the existence of these communities reveals relevant aspects of the heritage of Atlantic slavery and its consequences. The return of Afro-Brazilians demonstrates that these flows were not merely forced displacement, but also identity reconstruction and territorial reconnection. Furthermore, the endurance of Brazilian cultural elements can be interpreted as a form of cultural projection, approaching the concept of soft power, even if not structured as a state policy. For Saraiva (1996), this legacy represents a strategic asset for Brazilian diplomacy on the African continent. In this sense, the Agudás are neither exclusively Brazilian nor African, but the result of a historical process of displacement, resistance, and cultural reinvention.
5. Implications of Brazilian-Beninese migration
5.1 Access to information
The analysis of the implications of the acquisition of Beninese nationality by Afro-descendant Brazilians necessarily involves considering a central element of the recognition process: the requirement of documentary proof of African ancestry. According to Beninese legislation, applicants must submit documents demonstrating their genealogical link to African populations deported in the context of the transatlantic slave trade, including civil registry records, historical documents, certificates, official archives, and, in certain cases, genetic tests that reinforce this connection.
However, when transposing this requirement to the Brazilian context, structural limitations emerge that strain the effectiveness of this model. As Verger (2021) points out, the availability of historical records concerning the enslaved population is profoundly restricted, not only due to the conditions of documentary production during the colonial period, but above all due to the deliberate destruction of archives at the end of the nineteenth century. In this regard, the Brazilian government's decision in 1891 to eliminate records linked to slavery, frequently associated with Rui Barbosa's actions, resulted in the loss of documents that could have enabled the identification of enslaved individuals and their descendants.
This process was related both to the attempt to erase institutional traces of slavery and to prevent compensation claims by former slaveholders, resulting in the elimination of records that formed an important basis for identifying this population. Consequently, a scenario was consolidated in which the reconstruction of genealogical ties linked to the Atlantic slave trade is rendered significantly difficult, especially for the Afro-descendant Brazilian population.
This mismatch not only limits effective access to the policy, but also highlights an inherent contradiction in reparation initiatives that depend on documentary instruments historically denied or destroyed. Thus, while evidentiary requirements seek legal legitimacy, they may simultaneously operate as a new filter of exclusion, especially for those most affected by historical erasure.
In this scenario, the frequently mobilized alternative consists of genetic testing capable of indicating markers associated with sub-Saharan African populations. Thus, as the social scientist Dagoberto José Fonseca observes, the requirement of proof through technical and documentary resources can significantly limit access, since not everyone has the financial means to pay for tests or assemble documentation beyond self-declaration.
5.2 Xenophobia and racism
Approaching the migratory implications associated with Beninese citizenship requires, above all, an understanding of a structural phenomenon that permeates contemporary experiences of mobility: xenophobia. As Cecília De La Garza (2011) defines it, this is a form of rejection of the foreign “other,” grounded in historical, cultural, economic, and identitarian prejudices that justify exclusion and unequal treatment. Rather than an individual feeling, xenophobia constitutes a socially constructed ideology that transforms differences of origin, race, or culture into criteria for hierarchization and the restriction of rights (Garza, 2011).
In this sense, xenophobia is frequently articulated with racism, to the extent that the distinction between nationals and foreigners overlaps with racial and ethnic markers. This dynamic becomes evident when migrants are perceived not merely as “outsiders,” but as potential symbolic and material threats to national identity or to access to economic and social resources. As the author points out, this process is fueled by perceptions that are often detached from reality, based on generalizations and lack of knowledge, contributing to the naturalization of discriminatory practices.
On the one hand, Brazilians abroad may be targeted by stigmatizations associated with their nationality, often linked to stereotypes about labor, informality, or socioeconomic status; on the other hand, in the case of Black Brazilians, these experiences tend to be intensified by global racial dynamics. Recent episodes illustrate this overlap: professor Cíntia Barboza was barred from boarding a flight to Benin under unfounded suspicions of trafficking, being subjected to hours of searches and examinations, while other Black passengers faced similar indignities; comedian Fernanda Arantes reported discriminatory treatment in Berlin after her Brazilian passport was identified; and a Black man residing in London stated he was prevented from boarding in Brazil and called a “criminal,” revealing how racialization operates both abroad and within national territory itself.
The Beninese passport constitutes not only an international identification document, but also an indicator of its holder's position in the hierarchical structure of global mobility. As evidenced by comparative indices such as the Henley Passport Index, the document is situated in the lower-middle tiers, occupying approximately 68th place in the international ranking. In practical terms, this translates into a mobility score of 68, with visa-free access to around 35 countries, mostly on the African continent, in addition to visa-on-arrival options in 31 destinations and electronic travel authorization (eTA) in another 2. On the other hand, the passport still requires a prior visa for approximately 130 countries, which significantly limits its global reach, estimated at around 34% (Passport Index.org, 2026).
Based on the observed data, the acquisition of Beninese citizenship can be interpreted, primarily, as a gesture of cultural reconnection and rapprochement with an ancestry historically disrupted by the diaspora. Even so, this symbolic dimension does not automatically translate into advantages in terms of international mobility, especially when compared to passports from core countries in the global system. On the contrary, holding a document with lower reach tends to insert its bearer into more restrictive circuits of movement, marked by greater control, bureaucratic demands, and suspicion at borders. For Afro-descendant Brazilians, this condition may take on even more complex dimensions, given that nationality and racialization operate in an articulated manner in the production of inequalities. In this context, the Beninese passport, although laden with historical and identity significance, may also become an additional element of exposure to discriminatory practices in international transit spaces.
Concluding remarks
In summary, the analysis demonstrates that the policy granting Beninese nationality to Afro-descendants, although formulated as a mechanism of historical reparation and identity reconnection, remains inscribed within the continuities of coloniality that structure contemporary international politics. In this sense, by mobilizing the diaspora as a foundation of belonging and articulating itself with a project of African reconfiguration oriented toward autonomy (Abumere, 2022; Mafeje, 2008), the Beninese state advances an initiative of symbolic and political reframing that, nevertheless, remains tethered to the global hierarchies governing mobility, citizenship, and recognition.
Furthermore, the requirement of documentary proof, combined with inequalities of access and the peripheral standing of the Beninese passport, demonstrates that the colonial legacy is not limited to the past, but is continually updated in the operational conditions of the policy. As postcolonial and decolonial approaches indicate, international modernity is inseparable from the coloniality of power, in which the management of difference continues to structure contemporary practices, particularly within border and mobility regimes (Quijano, 2024). In this way, the legal recognition of nationality does not break with such dynamics and may even reproduce historical mechanisms of exclusion.
Moreover, the migratory experiences analyzed reinforce the centrality of the “color line” in organizing the international order, since nationality and racialization operate jointly in the unequal distribution of rights and mobility (Anievas; Manchanda; Shilliam, 2015). This finding aligns with critiques that identify a historically racialized structure in international relations, in which practices such as migration control and visa regimes reiterate logics of domination inherited from colonialism.
On the other hand, the Beninese initiative reveals a potential for political rearticulation by claiming the diaspora as an extension of the continent, straining colonial boundaries of belonging. In this vein, African identity can be understood as a contingent and contested construction, subject to redefinition by diasporic subjects. Even so, the coexistence between discourses of unity and practices of exclusion underscores the limits of these initiatives in the face of persistent xenophobic and hierarchizing dynamics.
Finally, rather than representing a full return or effective reparation, Beninese citizenship constitutes a space of negotiation marked by ambiguities, in which recognition and exclusion are interwoven. From a postcolonial and decolonial perspective, it represents less a rupture with the prevailing order and more a reconfiguration of its continuities, demonstrating that promises of belonging and justice remain embedded within a global system still structured by coloniality. Within this horizon, the notion of African belonging moves away from essentialist claims, opening itself to the agency of subjects and the plurality of diasporic trajectories, such that, as Mbembe points out (2002, p. 258, our translation, apud Abumere, 2022), “every African can imagine and choose what makes them African.”