In January 2026, Spain passed a royal decree that will regularize 500,000 undocumented migrants. These are people who will gain not only the legal right to work and access healthcare and education, but something more profound: a sense of ease and security. The ability to quiet the constant fear of losing everything in an instant. The chance to return home to their countries, their roots, their loved ones. This historic victory was led by a collective of migrants who have felt directly the physical and emotional toll of living without papers, who joined forces and built a grassroots movement from the ground up. They are RegularizacionYa.
The organization began their journey in response to the impact of the COVID-19 pandemic on undocumented migrants. During the lockdown, many were considered essential workers in the food supply and caregiving sectors; however, their administrative status excluded them from the social safety nets available to legal residents.
At the same time, the lockdown pushed many people online, creating opportunities to connect with migrants from across Spain. Silvana Cabrera, one of the spokespersons for RegularizacionYa, explained, “one of the great achievements was bringing together so many people in an irregular situation, allowing us to share the main problems we were facing.”
Cabrera’s personal experience explains why migrant leadership was non-negotiable for the movement. After arriving in Spain from Bolivia in 2009, she was able to regularise her status through her grandfather, who fled Spain during the Civil War, under former Prime Minister José Luis Rodríguez Zapatero’s third-generation nationality programme.
Even with documentation, she has faced challenges familiar to many migrants. “I’ve experienced how difficult it is to bring your family over, facing the brutal bureaucracy of family reunification: square metres of housing, income, contracts, requirements that would never be demanded of a Spanish person. I haven’t been able to bring my sisters or my parents. I have always been surrounded by migrants, witnessing abuse and violence first-hand, and I have turned that anger into a force for struggle.”
She transformed her unrest into a driving force for change. Central to the movement was the insistence that migrants be at the forefront. Cabrera emphasized its necessity, saying, “we know what it means to be in an irregular administrative situation, the profound suffering it inflicts on so many people and families. That is why the struggle has come this far.”
Deprived of basic rights and often at the mercy of employers, the movement turned to the Iniciativa Legislativa Popular (ILP), a direct democracy mechanism that allows citizens to propose legislation to Congress by collecting 500,000 signatures. RegularizaciónYa mobilized 14,000 volunteers and 900 organizations across 30 cities, ultimately gathering over 700,000 signatures. Cabrera attributes this remarkable accomplishment to the leadership of migrants themselves: “We, the migrants, were always at the forefront, and these are the results.”
The campaign faced immense challenges, including limited time and precarious conditions. “No one in the movement received a salary for their activism. It was fierce militancy. We organised ourselves into 18 committees and mapped out all the autonomous communities to see how we could be present,” Cabrera explained.
They engaged with everyday citizens, addressing widespread ignorance about the Immigration Law and countering narratives of criminalization. Outreach in universities and schools made the process participatory, reflecting a tradition of civic engagement familiar to many Latin American activists.
After securing the required signatures, the ILP was enacted as a Royal Decree, representing a watershed moment in Spanish democracy and a striking departure from the contemporary trend of securitization and tightening of migration policies in Europe and North America.
Although often credited to political parties and Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez, Cabrera insists that “this regularization comes from the bottom up and would not have gone so far without the perseverance of the RegularizaciónYa movement.”
The decree goes beyond granting legal authorization to live and work in Spain; it also provides mental relief. “Our communities go through a bureaucratic ordeal of racism and mistreatment. Imagine if your father or son died and you couldn’t go back to bury them,” Cabrera explained. She referenced fellow spokesperson Lamine Sarr, who said, “Being in an irregular situation is like being in an invisible prison. You live in constant fear of being stopped because of racial profiling, of ending up with a fine or in an Immigrant Detention Centre.”
“The peace of mind that comes with having a document allowing you to walk without fear is essential for your mental and emotional health, and for what you can convey to your loved ones,” Cabrera added.
She held back tears as she reflected on what they’ve achieved. “This has been built from the ground up, with migrants themselves speaking out about our needs and demanding to be treated as human beings, without criminalization based on our origin, accent, or skin color.”
But for RegularizacionYa, the fight continues. Cabrera outlined that the focus is now on implementation. The Royal Decree must be broad, simple, and accessible, with clear multilingual information and well-resourced offices to avoid delays. The campaign’s role is to inform and support the community, ensuring high fees don’t block families from accessing the process. For Cabrera, the stakes extend beyond immigration policy: “Grassroots activism and the fight against racism are essential today. Without an anti-racist and anti-colonial perspective, progress in other struggles is simply not possible.”
