What if your child was no longer Italian—simply because they were born a few days too late?
This is not a hypothetical question. It is the reality created by Italy’s Law Decree No. 36/2025, enacted with immediate effect on 29 March, which has shattered the continuity of Italian citizenship within countless families around the world. Under the new rules, only children with at least one parent or grandparent born in Italy—or whose Italian parent has lived in Italy for two consecutive years prior to birth—can be automatically recognised as Italian citizens.
The result? Siblings born of the same parents, living under the same roof, raised with the same culture, may now be treated differently under Italian law. One child may proudly hold an Italian passport. The other, born a few months later, may be considered a foreigner.
This unsettling reality has already taken hold in countless families across the United Kingdom, the United States, Argentina, Brazil, the European Union and beyond—fueling a growing wave of confusion, indignation, and legal insecurity throughout the global Italian diaspora.
Constitutional concerns are growing by the day. Legal experts warn that the 2025 citizenship reform may breach fundamental principles of equality, non-retroactivity, and non-discrimination—particularly where it produces unequal treatment within the same family. Parliamentary committees are set to begin emergency hearings on 8 April, and pressure is mounting across the political spectrum. All major parties, including some from within the governing coalition, have publicly acknowledged the need to revise the decree before it is too late. Among the most widely condemned effects is the unequal treatment of siblings—an outcome now recognised as one of the most emblematic and troubling features of the reform.
This unexpected reform marks a rupture in the legal and emotional continuity of Italian identity, undoing decades of efforts to preserve family ties with Italy. Children raised in the same home, by the same Italian parents, now face unequal civic destinies—divided by an arbitrary cut-off date.
The time to act is now. If not amended, the decree will become law upon expiry of the 60-day period provided for its conversion—by 27 May 2025. Once ratified, the reform will no longer be a matter of political debate, but binding legislation with long-term consequences.
It is therefore essential that Italian citizens abroad remain vigilant, vocal and coordinated. A citizenship policy worthy of a constitutional democracy must be grounded in fairness, historical coherence, and respect for the dignity of families.
If this decree affects your family and you wish to understand how it may impact your specific situation, feel free to contact me. Together with my team of lawyers and consultants, I will be glad to offer you guidance and dedicated support.
When Siblings Are No Longer Equal Under the Law
In late March 2025, the Italian Government enacted Decree-Law No. 36/2025, introducing a sweeping restriction to the rules governing citizenship by descent (ius sanguinis). The reform has generated a paradoxical and deeply troubling outcome: within the same family, some children are recognised as Italian citizens while others—though born of the same parents—are excluded, not because of their birthdate alone, but because their birth certificates were not transcribed in time, or their citizenship applications had not been formally submitted before the cut-off date of 27 March 2025.
In practical terms, this means that two siblings, both born abroad to Italian parents, may now have radically different legal identities. One child may hold an Italian passport because their birth was registered before the reform; the other—perhaps older, perhaps younger—may be denied citizenship because their paperwork was delayed or still pending. The decree does not simply apply to future births; it reaches backward, severing the legal bond of status civitatis even for children born years ago, provided their status was not yet formalised.
This abrupt shift has been widely condemned as unjust, discriminatory and incompatible with the principle of legal equality. It has sparked intense debate both within Parliament and among Italian communities abroad, who have described the measure as “absurd” and “deeply unfair.”
Italian Identity on Hold: Families Abroad Confront Legal Injustice
Beyond the immediate outrage, what Italian families abroad are now expressing is something far deeper and more corrosive: a profound sense of betrayal and institutional disillusionment. For decades, they had interpreted the right to transmit Italian citizenship as more than a legal formality—it was a gesture of continuity, a form of recognition, and a promise that Italy had not forgotten them. Parents who carefully preserved their language, values and documents saw citizenship not as a benefit to be claimed, but as a natural affirmation of a cultural identity they had never abandoned.
That belief, carefully nurtured over generations, has now been shattered. With the abrupt introduction of Decree-Law No. 36/2025, citizenship by descent is no longer a legacy—it has become a barrier, subject to conditions so restrictive that entire branches of the diaspora find themselves disqualified overnight. What was once an open path has become a labyrinth of procedural obstacles, legal exceptions and arbitrary cut-offs.
The emotional cost is immense. In countless homes, mothers and fathers must now explain to their children why one sibling is Italian and the other is not. The message, however unintended, is clear: you belong, your brother does not. This is not just a bureaucratic oversight—it is a rupture of belonging, a psychological scar inflicted at the heart of the family. Children who once grew up with a shared sense of identity are now confronted with the idea that nationality is not a birthright, but a variable imposed by deadlines and technicalities.
Worse still, this fracture is not confined to the private sphere. It undermines the entire symbolic architecture of Italy’s relationship with its diaspora. The State that once honoured the memory of emigration, that praised the contributions of “italiani nel mondo”, now appears to revoke that legacy, casting doubt on the very idea of what it means to be Italian beyond the national border. As the legal criteria narrow, so too does the moral horizon of the Republic.
Community leaders, consular officials, teachers and legal advisers are now left to pick up the pieces—dealing with a wave of anguish, confusion and frustration. The trust that had taken years to build is now fragile, if not broken. Many fear that this decree has not only excluded future citizens, but damaged the credibility of the Italian State as a custodian of identity and belonging.
This crisis is anything but abstract. It takes tangible form in applications abruptly suspended, investments lost after months or years of gathering documents, legalisations, and certified translations. It derails family plans, interrupts generational projects, and casts uncertainty over lives built around a promise of recognition. Its echoes resonate in the classrooms of Italian schools abroad, in the anxious silence of consular waiting rooms, and in the words of letters from grandparents to grandchildren—letters that may no longer carry the hope of shared citizenship.
If the Italian Republic wishes to remain faithful to the values it claims to uphold—equality, continuity, and national cohesion—this fracture must be confronted and healed. Citizenship must not become a line that runs through the heart of a family, dividing siblings or severing generations. Not without inflicting deep and lasting damage to the very idea of being Italian—at home and around the world.
The End of Automatic Recognition
What happens when citizenship divides a family? When two siblings—born to the same parents, under the same roof—are no longer seen as equals under the law?
This is not an abstract question. It is the very real consequence of Italy’s new Decree-Law No. 36/2025, which came into force on 29 March with no prior consultation and no transition period. In one fell swoop, it redefined the principles of ius sanguinis, radically narrowing the criteria by which descendants of Italians abroad can be recognised as citizens.
The new law does not simply look to the future—it applies retroactively. Only applications submitted before 23:59 on 27 March 2025 are protected under the previous rules. This has left many families blindsided. Parents who had every reason to believe their newborns would be recognised as Italian citizens now find themselves in legal limbo.
For decades, Italy has prided itself on maintaining a bond with its descendants abroad. The right to citizenship by descent was a way of acknowledging the sacrifices of emigrants and preserving Italy’s cultural legacy across continents. The new decree has turned that legacy on its head.
Maria Chiara Prodi, Secretary General of the Consiglio Generale degli Italiani all’Estero (CGIE), did not mince words: “On Thursday [28 March], we had the most generous citizenship law in the world. On Friday [29 March], one of the most restrictive.” She spoke of “children already born who can no longer be registered,” calling the measure a violent break in the intergenerational relationship that Italians abroad have maintained with their country of origin.
A Shockwave Among Italians Abroad—and Within Parliament
The reaction has been immediate and widespread. Within days, members of Parliament—both from the opposition and within the ruling coalition—voiced concerns over the scope and abruptness of the reform. The Senate opened its examination of the law on 2 April. By 8 April, hearings had begun, involving legal experts, community leaders, and representatives of Italian associations from around the world.
One of the clearest examples raised during these hearings is precisely the case of siblings with unequal citizenship status. The image is powerful: a family with two children, born a year apart. The elder is registered as Italian. The younger, under the new rules, is not. Both are children of the same citizen parent. Both share the same lineage, language, and traditions. And yet, one is officially “Italian”; the other is not.
This has been described in parliamentary discussions as “emblematic of the injustice embedded in the decree.” It is not merely an administrative oversight. It is a direct contradiction of the principle of equality, both in the family and before the law.
Several parliamentarians have called for urgent amendments, including the restoration of automatic recognition at least for the third generation, or transitional clauses for children already born. Even MPs from the Lega—a party that initially supported the measure—have spoken of the need for correction.
Parliament Reacts: Warnings Across Party Lines as Sibling Inequality Takes Centre Stage
Criticism of Decree-Law 36/2025 has prompted significant concern within Parliament, particularly among MPs elected in overseas constituencies and members of the opposition. Both the substance and the method of the reform have come under fire. On 1 April 2025, during a Senate meeting with the Executive Committee of the General Council of Italians Abroad (CGIE), Senator Francesca La Marca (Democratic Party, elected in North and Central America) strongly criticised the use of a decree-law to enact such a far-reaching reform without involving either the CGIE or the MPs representing Italians abroad.
Senator La Marca stated that she had personally raised these concerns with Foreign Minister Antonio Tajani, denouncing the lack of transparency and the absence of institutional dialogue. She also highlighted a particularly punitive aspect of the reform: it doubles the residency requirement—from 12 to 24 months—for former citizens who lost their Italian citizenship through naturalisation abroad and now wish to reacquire it.
While La Marca’s remarks referred specifically to reacquisition, they reflected a broader principle: citizenship rights should not be subject to abrupt or retroactive restrictions, especially when they affect legal continuity within families. Indeed, the very issue of siblings with divergent citizenship status falls within this category. Families who, up until 28 March, could expect all their children to be recognised as Italian citizens, now find themselves facing an arbitrary divide—some included, others left out.
Crucially, objections have not only come from the opposition. Just days after the decree’s publication, two MPs from the governing Lega party, Dimitri Coin and Graziano Pizzimenti, publicly expressed their unease over the crackdown on Italian descendants abroad, stating that the party intended to “review and amend this proposal during the legislative process.” Although they did not explicitly mention the case of siblings, their comments acknowledged that the generational cut-off imposed by the decree is excessive and in need of revision.
Their position provoked some internal friction. Members of Forza Italia, Tajani’s party, responded with “astonishment,” pointing out that the Lega had approved the measure in Cabinet meetings. Nevertheless, the episode signalled that dissent was growing, even within the ruling coalition.
Meanwhile, numerous amendments have been tabled in Parliament—not only by opposition parties such as the PD, but also from within the majority—to mitigate the most severe effects of the decree. Proposed changes include removing or softening the rigid generational limit and safeguarding the rights of those born before the reform. One of the most widely cited arguments in support of these amendments has been the case of two siblings born just months apart to the same Italian parents living abroad: under the old law, the first is recognised as Italian; under the new one, the second is treated as a foreigner. Several parliamentarians have pointed to this example as a clear violation of basic principles of fairness and a scenario that should not exist in any democratic legal system.
By the time the decree reached the Senate for conversion, it was clear that Parliament had become fully aware of the rupture it had created within families. The legislative debate echoed the wave of protests emerging from Italian communities across the globe—and many MPs recorded their intention to repair that fracture before the decree is definitively transformed into law.
Institutional Reactions from the CGIE and Italian Communities Worldwide
Outside the walls of Parliament, some of the most vocal opposition has come from the General Council of Italians Abroad (CGIE) and a broad network of diaspora associations. As the official representative body of Italians residing outside the national territory, the CGIE moved swiftly. Its Executive Committee convened in Rome on 31 March—just two days after the decree’s entry into force—and immediately began high-level discussions with key institutional figures, including the Undersecretary for Foreign Affairs with responsibility for Italians Abroad, Hon. Giorgio Silli, and the Chairs of the Foreign Affairs Committees of both the Chamber and the Senate.
In an official statement released on 5 April 2025, the CGIE expressed its firm hope that significant amendments would be introduced during the decree’s conversion process. It specifically called on Parliament to address the rigid requirement that one’s Italian ancestor must have been born in Italy or resided there for two consecutive years prior to the descendant’s birth—combined with the restriction to two generations—describing these changes as sources of grave uncertainty for the status of those already born, and a threat to the long-term relationship between Italy and its worldwide communities.
The phrase “uncertainty over the fate of those already born” was not used lightly. It refers precisely to children born to Italian parents abroad shortly before the decree came into force, who are now suddenly ineligible for citizenship, solely because their birth registration had not yet been processed. The situation—which many have rightly described as surreal—is powerfully summarised in the words of Maria Chiara Prodi, CGIE Secretary General: “There are children already born who can no longer be registered in the Italian civil registry. This measure has severed a process of intergenerational continuity that was unfolding across the world.”
Her statement encapsulates the collective frustration of families, organisations, and legal professionals alike. For a country that has long celebrated its diaspora as an integral part of the Nazione, the idea of cutting children out of citizenship solely due to timing and bureaucracy has been perceived as a betrayal of shared history and belonging.
The Clock Is Ticking
Italy’s Constitution requires that all decree-laws be converted into legislation within 60 days. That deadline is approaching fast: by 27 May 2025, Parliament must decide whether to confirm, revise, or abandon the current text.
In the meantime, legal uncertainty reigns. Consulates have suspended many appointments. Parents are rushing to register their children’s births. Entire family migration plans are being reconsidered. Lawyers warn of the potential for a flood of legal challenges, both in Italian courts and before the European Court of Human Rights.
What is at stake is not merely a bureaucratic procedure—it is the right to belong, to pass on one’s identity, to see one’s children treated with the same dignity and recognition.
As debate continues, one thing is clear: citizenship is not just a legal status. It is a matter of justice. And families should not be asked to choose which of their children gets to inherit it.
