Imagine discovering that you have a rightful claim to Italian citizenship through the bloodline of an Italian ancestor – only to see that birthright thrown into question by the very laws meant to protect it. This scenario became reality in June 2025, when two dramatic court proceedings in Italy – one in the Constitutional Court, and one in the Tribunal of Turin – cast doubt on long-standing rules of Italian nationality. What happens when the right to citizenship, inherited through generations and rooted in centuries of Italian emigration, is suddenly called into question by the very legal system that once upheld it? This is no abstract dilemma. In June 2025, two closely linked judicial developments – an extraordinary public hearing before the Italian Constitutional Court, followed the very next day by a bold ruling from the Tribunal of Turin – have reignited one of the most sensitive and far-reaching debates in Italian legal and civic life: who has the right to be recognised as an Italian citizen by descent. These proceedings are not merely legal formalities; they raise essential questions of democratic legitimacy, equality, legal certainty and belonging. They challenge the boundaries of national identity, confront the unresolved legacy of historical gender discrimination, and strike at the emotional core of millions of individuals across the globe who trace their roots to Italy. At stake is not only the future of ius sanguinis, but also the credibility of a legal system which, after decades of generous recognition, now threatens to close the door – abruptly and retroactively – on a vast and diverse diaspora. For lawyers, judges, policymakers and the wider Italian community abroad, this is an historic moment that demands attention, reflection and principled response.
On 24 June 2025, the Italian Constitutional Court opened its doors to what would become one of the most attended and symbolically charged hearings in its history. The courtroom, filled to capacity, reflected the exceptional gravity of the case and the profound public interest it has stirred. Never before had so many individuals – lawyers, activists, descendants of Italian emigrants – gathered to witness a constitutional debate on the meaning and limits of Italian nationality. The extraordinary turnout served as a visible reminder that this was far more than a legal proceeding: it was a civic moment of reckoning, charged with identity, memory and belonging.
If you too are considering applying for Italian citizenship by descent but feel uncertain about the applicable legal framework, or if you need guidance to determine whether you are eligible, feel free to contact me privately. I will be glad to assist you together with my team of experienced Italian lawyers.
by Dr. Michela de Julio
micheladejulio@mmweurope.com
For over a century, Italy’s nationality law has operated on the principle of iure sanguinis (right of blood), generously allowing the transmission of citizenship from parent to child across generations. Uniquely, Italian law imposes no generational limit on this transmission – even great-grandchildren and more distant descendants of Italian emigrants can claim citizenship, regardless of how many generations have passed. This inclusive approach, virtually unmatched anywhere else in the world, has meant that the pool of potential Italian citizens abroad is enormous – an estimated 60+ million people of Italian descent worldwide could be eligible, a figure that actually exceeds Italy’s resident population of ~58 million. Over the past decade, easier access to information has fueled a surge in citizenship applications from the diaspora, inundating consulates and courts with requests.
The only historical temporal limit when tracing back to an Italian ancestor (dante causa) for purposes of recognising citizenship iure sanguinis is that the ancestor must have died after the establishment of the Kingdom of Italy in 1861. This condition is rooted in a fundamental legal principle: one can only transmit a citizenship that existed as such under national law. Prior to 17 March 1861 – the official date of Italian unification – there was no unified Italian State, and therefore no legal status of “Italian citizen” capable of being transmitted. As such, individuals who died before that date, regardless of their regional origin (e.g. in the Kingdom of Sardinia, the Grand Duchy of Tuscany, or the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies), could not have held Italian citizenship in the juridical sense, because Italy as a sovereign legal entity did not yet exist.
In jurisprudence and administrative practice, this criterion is firmly established: the applicant must demonstrate uninterrupted descent from a person who was alive as of 17 March 1861 or thereafter, and who would have acquired Italian citizenship upon the creation of the Kingdom, unless a subsequent event (such as naturalisation in a foreign country before the birth of the next descendant) interrupted the line of transmission. This principle is a foundational threshold in any iure sanguinis application and is consistently confirmed by Italian courts and legal doctrine.
Yet this liberal iure sanguinis regime has a complicated history marked by historic gender-based discrimination. Under Italy’s 1912 citizenship law, bloodline citizenship could only be passed through the paternal line – children born to an Italian mother (who married a foreigner) were denied Italian nationality. This rule, rooted in outdated views of family and nationality, endured until the Italian Constitution’s equality principles prompted judicial intervention. In a series of landmark rulings, the Constitutional Court struck down these sexist provisions – in 1975, ending the automatic loss of citizenship for Italian women who married foreigners, and in 1983, finally affirming that children of Italian mothers are Italian citizens by birth on an equal footing with those of Italian fathers. These decisions eliminated the formal gender disparity going forward. However, the legacy of that discrimination lingered: notably, children born before 1 January 1948 to Italian mothers were never retroactively recognized by legislation. To this day, those maternal-line descendants (often called “1948 cases”) must seek judicial recognition of their Italian citizenship, since no comprehensive legislative remedy was provided. In practice, then, Italy’s iure sanguinis system has been both remarkably inclusive across generations and imperfectly equal across genders – a paradox now in the constitutional spotlight.
The Constitutional Court’s Historic Hearing on Iure Sanguinis (24 June 2025)
On 24 June 2025, Italy’s Constitutional Court held an extraordinary public hearing to examine whether the country’s open-ended bloodline citizenship rule is compatible with the Constitution. The case arose from several judges (in Bologna, Rome, Florence, and Milan) who had independently questioned the constitutionality of Article 1(1)(a) of the citizenship law (Law 91/1992), which grants citizenship “by birth” to “the child of an Italian father or mother.” While this provision is facially gender-neutral, the referring judges highlighted two key issues: (1) the absence of any limit on the number of generations through which citizenship can be claimed by descent, and (2) the lingering effects of historic gender discrimination in the transmission of citizenship. They asked whether allowing citizenship claims indefinitely down the bloodline – even by individuals with tenuous or no real connection to Italy – is consistent with Italy’s constitutional framework.
From a constitutional perspective, the challenge invokes some of the fundamental principles of the Republic. First, Article 1 of the Italian Constitution declares that “sovereignty belongs to the people.” The concern is that an ordinary law has, over time, vastly expanded the “people” (i.e. the body of citizens) to include potentially millions of foreign residents who may lack any effective tie to Italy. If Italian citizenship is extended without limit – for example, to great-great-grandchildren of emigrants who neither speak Italian nor have ever set foot in Italy – could this dilute the meaning of the Italian people and even interfere with democratic processes (such as elections), given that citizens abroad have voting rights? The referring judges warned of a possible distortion of popular sovereignty and democratic representation if the notion of “the people” is stretched beyond reason.
Secondly, Article 3 of the Constitution enshrines equality and requires that laws be reasonable and not arbitrarily discriminatory. Here the issue is an imbalance in citizenship policy: Italy’s iure sanguinis rule imposes no conditions (not even language ability or cultural connection), whereas other routes to citizenship (like ius soli for those born and raised in Italy, or naturalisation by residence) have strict requirements to ensure genuine attachment to the nation. Granting citizenship automatically to distant descendants abroad, while immigrants in Italy or foreign spouses must fulfill residency, language, or integration criteria, might be seen as an unreasonable asymmetry in the law. The referring courts suggested that the principle of reasonableness and proportionality in legislation could be violated by this disparity.
Thirdly, the challenge touches on Article 117(1) of the Constitution, which binds Italy to its international and EU obligations. In international law, the classic Nottebohm principle holds that citizenship should reflect a “genuine effective link” between the individual and the state. Critics argue that handing out citizenship purely based on lineage – “because one of someone’s many ancestors was Italian, generations ago” – exceeds the bounds of what is considered an effective national connection. On the European front, every Italian citizen is automatically an EU citizen, and the Court of Justice of the EU has cautioned that while nationality rules are a national prerogative, they must not arbitrarily undermine EU citizenship rights. (Notably, in cases like Rottmann (2010) and Tjebbes (2019), the EU Court struck down the arbitrary removal of citizenship without due process; by analogy, Italy’s excessive grant of citizenship by descent could also be seen as impacting the EU’s interest in a non-distorted definition of its citizenry.) Even Article 22 of the Italian Constitution – which forbids depriving someone of citizenship for political reasons – reflects the idea that citizenship cannot be treated arbitrarily by the state. The underlying question posed to the Constitutional Court is whether there is a constitutional “core” to citizenship that requires a real connection to Italy – in effect, can the Constitution tolerate an unlimited bloodline citizenship, or does it implicitly demand limits and links to ensure genuine membership in the national community?
This Constitutional Court hearing was exceptional not only for its legal questions but also for its historical and human dimension. The case was actually a consolidation of four parallel constitutional referrals, unified into a single proceeding with Justice Emanuela Navarretta as the rapporteur. It quickly became evident that this issue resonated far beyond the courtroom. The 24 June session has been described as the most highly attended in the Court’s history, with an unprecedented turnout of interested parties and observers. Representatives of Italian diaspora communities – especially from Brazil and Argentina, home to millions of oriundi (people of Italian descent) – mobilised to be present in Rome. In fact, so many sought to attend that the Court’s audience hall could not accommodate all the accreditation requests. Advocacy groups and associations for Italian descendants played an active role as well: AGIS (Associazione Giuristi Iure Sanguinis) and AUCI (Avvocati Uniti per la Cittadinanza Italiana), two organisations championing the rights of iure sanguinis applicants, formally intervened in the case to voice the diaspora’s perspective. Their involvement underscored the human stakes behind the dry legal issues – for many families, this case could determine whether a cherished Italian identity and citizenship can be passed on or not. As the hearing unfolded, it was clear that the Constitutional Court was being asked to perform a delicate balancing act: to interpret Italy’s highest principles in a way that either upholds a proud tradition of welcoming descendants of Italians abroad, or imposes new limits in the name of constitutional consistency.
Notably, as of early July 2025, the Constitutional Court has not yet issued its decision on this matter. Such deliberations typically take weeks or months, given the magnitude of the questions. The legal community anticipates a seminal ruling that will define the contours of Italian citizenship for years to come. Will the Court declare the unlimited ius sanguinis rule unconstitutional, thereby forcing Parliament to impose reasonable generational limits or connection requirements? Or will it find a way to uphold the status quo, leaving reform to the legislature? The suspense is heightened by the fact that, even as the justices deliberate, the legal landscape around citizenship has shifted in the meantime – dramatically so, as the next section explains.
The Day After: Turin Tribunal Challenges a Retroactive Cut-off (25 June 2025)
In an almost cinematic turn of events, one day after the Constitutional Court’s historic hearing, a different court – the Tribunal of Turin – issued a decision that grabbed national attention. On 25 June 2025, Judge Fabrizio Alessandria of the Turin tribunal referred to the Constitutional Court a new, urgent question of constitutional legitimacy. This time, the target was not the old rule of unlimited iure sanguinis, but rather a brand-new provision that had just been added to Italy’s citizenship law. In essence, the Turin judge was challenging a swift legislative attempt to tighten the very rule that the Constitutional Court had been examining the day before.
Here is the background: In March 2025, amid growing debate over ius sanguinis, the Italian government issued an emergency decree (Decreto-Law 36/2025, nicknamed the “Decreto Tajani” after the Foreign Minister) which was later converted into Law 74/2025. This law introduced Article 3-bis into Law 91/1992 – a provision that fundamentally changes the game for citizenship claims by descent. Article 3-bis imposed new conditions and, most critically, a hard time limit: it declared that no application for citizenship jure sanguinis would be accepted if filed after 27 March 2025. In practical terms, this cutoff date suddenly slammed the door on potentially thousands of would-be Italian citizens. Anyone who had not already initiated their citizenship recognition process by 27 March would henceforth be barred from doing so. The law applied retroactively, purporting to extinguish even the claims of people who were fully eligible under the old rules but simply hadn’t filed in time. As commentators noted, this was a drastic restriction – effectively “an implicit, retroactive repeal of already matured rights,” in the words of some critics. The move sparked immediate controversy and outcry, especially among Italian communities abroad, who saw it as a betrayal and a denial of legitimate expectations.
It was against this backdrop that Judge Alessandria in Turin took action. On 25 June 2025, while presiding over a case involving ius sanguinis claimants, he found himself faced with this new Article 3-bis and its retroactive cutoff. Rather than applying the new law unquestioningly, the judge questioned its constitutionality and stayed the proceedings to consult the Constitutional Court. The referral to the higher court argued that the new Article 3-bis – introduced by Law 74/2025 – clashes with fundamental constitutional principles, specifically Articles 2, 3, 22, and 117 of the Constitution. In Judge Alessandria’s view, the law’s retroactive exclusion of claims violated basic tenets of equality, legal certainty, and legitimate expectation, as well as Italy’s obligations under European and international law. After all, for well over a century Italy had recognised citizenship by descent as an “original right” of the individual born to an Italian line – not a discretionary privilege subject to administrative deadlines. Overnight, Article 3-bis transformed that landscape, treating citizenship by blood almost like an optional benefit that one could forfeit by not applying quickly enough. To the Turin court, this appeared fundamentally unjust.
The Turin decision lays out several interlocking arguments. Firstly, the retroactive cutoff was seen as grossly unfair and discriminatory. It drew an arbitrary line on 27 March 2025, creating an irreparable divide between those who managed to file a claim by that date and those who did not. Two individuals with identical qualifications as Italian descendants would be treated entirely differently based solely on an administrative timing – a classic violation of the principle of equality (Article 3 Constitution) and of legal certainty. Many people had relied on the continuity of the law (some gathering documents or waiting for consular appointments) and had a legitimate expectation that their right to citizenship would remain available. By retroactively yanking that right away, the law undermined the trust that people can place in the stability of the legal system – a point linked to the broader constitutional principle of protection of legitimate expectations (often derived from Articles 3 and 2, the latter protecting fundamental rights including one’s personal identity and family heritage).
Secondly, the lack of any transitional provisions was a glaring problem. Normally, when laws change especially in sensitive areas like citizenship, a transition period or grandfather clause might protect those already in process or allow a grace period. Here, the cutoff was both abrupt and retrospective – immediate and with no exceptions. The Turin judge noted that Article 3-bis “is arbitrary, devoid of a transitional regime, and directly impacts acquired rights”. It even applies to people who have already been born as Italian descendants (i.e. the right had already accrued by birth under old law) but who simply had not formalized a claim yet. In some cases, this was through no fault of their own – for example, certain consulates (as in the Turin case itself) refused to accept applications from maternal-line descendants born before 1948, directing them to the courts instead. For such individuals, the “deadline” was essentially impossible to meet, a cruel Catch-22. The judge characterized the new rule as a sudden about-face in one of the pillars of Italian citizenship, using retroactive criteria “without reasonableness, unprecedented in European legislation”.
Thirdly, the decision highlighted conflicts with European and international norms. Article 22 of the Italian Constitution forbids depriving someone of citizenship for arbitrary reasons – and while Article 3-bis ostensibly deals with acquisition rather than loss, the Turin court viewed it as amounting to a form of denial or even implicit revocation of citizenship that one was entitled to by birth. Furthermore, Italy’s action could be seen as contravening its commitments under EU law (since denying Italian citizenship also withholds EU citizenship rights) and human rights law. The referral cited instruments like the EU Treaties (which establish the concept of EU citizenship), the Fourth Protocol to the European Convention on Human Rights (which guarantees the right of individuals to enter their own country – implying states shouldn’t bar recognition of one’s citizenship), and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (Article 15, which prohibits arbitrary deprivation of nationality). Notably, Judge Alessandria also drew on jurisprudence from the Court of Justice of the EU – cases such as Rottmann, Tjebbes, and JY (X) vs Denmark – which condemn the automatic loss of nationality without proper safeguards of due process and proportionality. By analogy, the Turin court signalled, Italy’s automatic denial of nationality to a whole class of people without individual consideration or recourse is equally suspect under European standards.
The immediate consequence of the Turin tribunal’s move was to halt the local proceedings and put the ball in the Constitutional Court’s court (so to speak). The judge formally “transmitted” the constitutional question to the Consulta (Constitutional Court), meaning that the enforcement of Article 3-bis in the case is suspended pending the higher court’s review. In practical terms, this means the claimants in that Turin case (and by extension many others in similar situations) have a glimmer of hope: if the Constitutional Court eventually strikes down the retroactive cutoff, their path to citizenship might reopen. The Turin referral is both symbolically and legally significant. Symbolically, it was a bold stand by a lower-court judge in defense of what he saw as fundamental rights, coming immediately after the Constitutional Court’s big hearing – almost as if to say “while you consider if we had too much ius sanguinis, note that the new fix might have gone too far the other way.” Legally, it piled additional pressure onto the Constitutional Court. The Court now has multiple related challenges on its docket: on one hand, the original set of cases questioning whether unlimited ius sanguinis is constitutionally excessive; on the other, this new challenge arguing that the restriction imposed by Article 3-bis is constitutionally defective. As one observer put it, the Court is faced with mirror-image problems: is too much bloodline citizenship unreasonable, and is too little (taken away too harshly) equally unreasonable? This convergence of issues underscores that Italian citizenship law is in a moment of intense flux.
For the many communities of Italian descendants in South America, North America, and elsewhere, the Turin decision was a beacon of hope. Advocacy groups celebrated the judge’s decision as validation of their stance that the so-called “cutoff law” (some have even dubbed it the “Legge della Vergogna” – “Law of Shame”) is unconstitutional and unjust. The Turin court explicitly acknowledged the plight of italo-discendenti who found the rules suddenly changed on them. News of the decision spread rapidly through expatriate Italian networks. As the magazine Insieme reported, the ruling “rekindles the hope of thousands of descendants of Italians in Brazil and around the world, who were directly hit by the new law”. In short, what began as a technical courtroom question has become a rallying cause for many who feel a deep personal stake in Italy’s citizenship policies.
Constitutional Principles in Tension – and Potential Outcomes
Taken together, the developments of 24–25 June 2025 highlight a profound tension in Italian constitutional law: how to strike the balance between inclusive citizenship by heritage and the need for reasonable, non-arbitrary rules. On one side is the long-standing ethos of Italy as a motherland that never forgets its children, even generations later – a principle born of Italy’s history of emigration and a source of pride and cultural connection with Italian communities abroad. On the other side is the recognition that citizenship also has to have substantive meaning and limits; it cannot be infinitely bestowed without regard to genuine ties, nor can it be rescinded or denied capriciously once granted or entitled. In a way, Italy is engaging in a constitutional soul-searching about the scope of ius sanguinis in the 21st century.
What might the future hold, legally speaking? Although we await the Constitutional Court’s formal ruling, experts are already contemplating scenarios. If the Constitutional Court were to agree with the referring judges (like the Tribunal of Bologna) that unlimited ius sanguinis is constitutionally problematic, it could declare that aspect of the law unconstitutional. Such a decision would be epochal. It would likely force Parliament to rapidly reform citizenship law, perhaps by introducing a generational limit (many countries that recognize citizenship by descent stop at the grandchildren of emigrants, for instance) or by adding requirements like a basic language test, cultural connection, or a period of residence in Italy for distant descendants. The Constitutional Court, in striking down the old rule, might lay down guiding principles – for example, that an “effective connection” with Italy is required for citizenship claims in the future, or that ius sanguinis should be “reasonably delimited” to avoid absurd outcomes. This would represent a major paradigm shift: a constitutional recalibration of the weight of bloodline versus other criteria (ius soli, residency, etc.), aligning Italy’s practice more closely with that of other nations. It would reinforce the notion of citizenship as “substantial membership” in the national community, not merely an inheritance passed down by ancestry. Such a principle, once articulated, could even influence how other related rules are interpreted – for example, bolstering the idea that one’s citizenship should remain effective (hinting that if someone has never had any real link, perhaps their claim is weak, and conversely if someone has established links, their citizenship shouldn’t be taken away lightly).
Conversely, if the Constitutional Court rejects the challenge to unlimited ius sanguinis and finds the current law (Article 1 of 1992) to be constitutionally sound, it would essentially affirm the status quo – at least as it stood until 2025. The Court might reason that defining the body of citizens is primarily a political question for Parliament, not something dictated by a specific constitutional formula. It could point out that no explicit constitutional article limits ius sanguinis, and that no fundamental right of others is clearly violated by it; in other words, one could argue there is no constitutional mandate to impose generational cutoffs, leaving it to the legislative policy sphere. Such a ruling would uphold Italy’s historically expansive approach to citizenship by descent – but it wouldn’t end the debate. In fact, it would place even greater focus on the new 2025 restrictions. If the old unlimited rule remains untouched by the Constitution, the spotlight shifts fully to the Decreto Tajani reforms (Law 74/2025). Indeed, even if the Constitutional Court decides that having an unlimited ius sanguinis was not unconstitutional, it will soon (due to the Turin referral and possibly others) have to decide whether taking it away retroactively is unconstitutional. The issues are two sides of the same coin, and the Court may address them in tandem or in sequence. Italy’s citizenship regime is therefore in a state of critical re-adjustment. The core values at play – equality, popular sovereignty, the effective bond of citizenship, and the nation’s interest in its diaspora – all need to be rebalanced in light of contemporary realities. Italy has evolved from a country of mass emigration to one that also sees immigration and a returning diaspora; its laws must mediate between embracing its far-flung descendants and ensuring a coherent, functional concept of citizenship at home.
In any case, the Constitutional Court’s eventual decisions (on both the unlimited ius sanguinis issue and the new Article 3-bis issue) will have far-reaching consequences for Italian citizenship jurisprudence. They will either cement a long tradition or prompt a thorough legislative overhaul. Importantly, they will set authoritative precedents on questions that have rarely been addressed so directly before. Whatever the outcome, it is certain that the legal landscape of Italian citizenship will not be the same. If change comes, lawmakers will be called upon to devise solutions that balance Italy’s constitutional principles with the legitimate aspirations of italo-descendents. And if the status quo is largely upheld, pressure will likely mount to address the anomalies (such as the treatment of pre-1948 maternal lines and the fairness of sudden cutoffs) through more nuanced policy measures.
A Call to Action for Those Affected
For individuals of Italian heritage around the world – especially those who have recently found themselves shut out by the March 2025 cutoff – these legal battles are much more than headlines; they are deeply personal. If you believe you have a rightful claim to Italian citizenship iure sanguinis but have been denied or delayed due to the new restrictions, now is the time to stay engaged and informed. The Constitutional Court’s forthcoming rulings could reopen doors that have been prematurely closed. Do not lose hope. Follow the news from the Constitutional Court (the Consulta), and consult with legal counsel who specialize in Italian citizenship law about your individual situation. Many experienced lawyers and associations (like the aforementioned AGIS and AUCI) are actively involved in these challenges and can provide guidance or support. Consider banding together with others in the same position – there is strength in numbers, and a collective voice can underscore the human impact of these policies.
Most importantly, be prepared to assert your rights. Constitutional litigation in Italy has shown that even long-standing laws can be overturned when they clash with fundamental principles, and even new laws can be struck down if they are unjust. Support ongoing constitutional challenges where appropriate – this could mean providing testimony of how the retroactive law affected you, contributing to advocacy efforts, or simply raising awareness in public forums. Italian citizenship law is at a turning point: it will either continue to evolve in line with constitutional values, or risks leaving a generation of rightful Italians disenfranchised. By staying informed and proactive, you can help ensure that justice and fairness prevail. In the grand tapestry of Italy’s history, its emigrants and their descendants have always played a crucial role. Today, their voices and stories matter in shaping what Italian citizenship will mean tomorrow.
Whether you are a lawyer navigating these developments or an aspiring citizen waiting in the wings, this is a moment to pay attention. The Constitutional Court’s deliberations and the Turin tribunal’s bold stance remind us that citizenship is not just a legal technicality – it is a bond of belonging, laden with constitutional importance and personal passion. As Italy rethinks its citizenship laws, your awareness and advocacy are vital. Stay vigilant, seek expert advice, and stand up for your rights. The promise of Italian citizenship – with all its privileges, responsibilities, and emotional resonance – should not be undone by haste or inequity. With informed action and constitutional scrutiny, that promise can still be fulfilled for those who rightfully claim it as their inheritance.
Sources: Official Gazette (G.U. Serie Speciale) – Ordinanza Trib. Bologna 26/11/2024; Italian Constitutional Court – Pending Case No. 247/2024 (public hearing 24/6/2025); Insieme Magazine – Desiderio Peron, “Il giorno dopo l’udienza storica…” (27/6/2025); Tribunal of Turin – Ordinance of 25/6/2025 (Judge Alessandria); Questione Giustizia legal journal analysis (2025); Government Press Release No. 121/2025 (Decreto Legge 36/2025 “Tajani”); Constitutional Court judgments 87/1975 and 30/1983 (gender discrimination in citizenship); EU Court of Justice rulings Rottmann (2010) and Tjebbes (2019).
