‘This security decree is the biggest attack on the right to protest in the history of the Italian Republic’
CIVICUS discusses Italy’s new Security Decree with Pasquale Prencipe, a lawyer, member of the research staff of Associazione Antigone, an Italian civil society organisation (CSO) working to ensure respect for rights in Italian prisons, and editor of a recent publication, ‘The greatest attack on the freedom of protest in the history of the Italian Republic’.
On 11 April, the Italian government approved a Security Decree, which was passed into law by parliament on 9 June, expanding police public order powers and criminalising non-violent protests such as roadblocks, sit-ins and passive resistance. The decree will target civil society and people from excluded groups. Civil society has denounced the decree as a violation of the right to peaceful assembly, protected by the Italian Constitution and international human rights treaties.
What makes this decree so controversial?
This Security Decree represents a reform strongly desired by the current government to strengthen public order, but that civil society has called out as the biggest attack on the right to protest in the history of the Italian Republic. What alarmed us immediately was its introduction of new offences and aggravating circumstances specifically designed to target dissent, including the new crime of prison riot, which punishes even passive forms of resistance by prisoners, evoking a return to fascist-era prisons.
The decree’s journey through parliament reveals its contentious nature. Initially presented as a draft security bill in January 2024, it faced delays and protests from numerous CSOs, including Associazione Antigone. The Chamber of Deputies approved it in September 2024 and sent it to the Senate. However, the pace of parliamentary democracy is too slow for the current government, which, despite the debate in parliament on the bill, decided to adopt a decree-law, a government measure that rendered 18 months of parliamentary discussion useless. Its 39 articles target civil society groups, environmental and labour activists, movements for the right to housing, homeless people, migrants, prisoners, Roma people and many others.
The decree expands police powers while weakening accountability mechanisms. It provides for tools such as police body cameras, which should serve as a guarantee, but ensures they are for the exclusive benefit of the officer; they are optional and there are no clear rules on privacy. It increases financial protections for police officers and introduces a system of compensation in the event of conviction. It allows off-duty officers to carry weapons without a licence and act as undercover agents, even at the highest levels of criminal organisations, without criminal consequences for their actions.
What we’re witnessing behind the rhetoric of security is a shift away from the rule of law that is increasingly restricting the space for dissent.
Which provisions affect protesters and prisoners?
The decree criminalises non-violent protest in many ways. Article 14 makes it a criminal offence to obstruct free movement on roads by blocking them with one’s own body, carrying a penalty of up to a month in prison. Article 19 introduces aggravating circumstances for resistance or threats to public officials, particularly if aimed at obstructing the construction of major works or infrastructure. Article 24 punishes people who deface public property with a jail sentence of between six months and three years and fines of up to €12,000 (approx. US$12,600) for a repeat offence.
But it’s the impact on prisoners that reveals the decree’s most draconian aspects. A new provision redefines the offence of ‘prison riot’ by extending it to numerous acts of non-violent collective protest and passive resistance, such as refusing to leave a cell, punishing offenders with up to five additional years in prison.
The implications for the prison system and the rehabilitative function of punishment are staggering, as protest in prison is often non-violent and motivated by undignified detention conditions. In 2024, there were around 1,500 incidents of non-violent collective protest, with an average of four prisoners involved per incident. Under the new law, this means 6,000 prisoners would be at risk of conviction, resulting in an additional 24,000 years of imprisonment being added to an already overcrowded prison system.
Why do you argue this violates Italy’s constitution and international law?
The decree’s constitutional and legal problems are both procedural and substantive. Procedurally, there were clearly no extraordinary or urgent circumstances to merit the adoption of a decree-law when a bill was being discussed in parliament for 18 months.
Further, the provisions of a decree should be consistent in content. The decree’s broad scope is problematic, as it covers diverse issues ranging from protest offences to matters such as the industrial hemp supply chain. And most fundamentally, it introduces new offences and aggravating circumstances from one day to the next, preventing people becoming aware that particular acts they may undertake have become crimes.
Substantively, the reform violates numerous foundational constitutional principles. These include the right of assembly, the right to strike, the humanity and rehabilitative purpose of punishment and the principles of equality and proportionality of punishment, legality, guilt and offensiveness.
How has civil society responded, and what are the prospects of legal challenges?
The response from civil society and legal experts has been swift. International bodies have voiced serious concerns, with critical statements from six United Nations special rapporteurs, the Council of Europe’s Commissioner for Human Rights and the Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe, all of whom described the changes as a threat to the rule of law.
The Italian legal establishment has mobilised in unprecedented numbers. Over 266 legal experts, including prominent figures such as judge and constitutionalist Gustavo Zagrebelsky, have signed appeals against the decree, while the Union of Criminal Chambers has called for a three-day strike in protest.
The grassroots response has been equally impressive, with protest and information initiatives including a relay fast involving over 500 participants and the No DDL Sicurezza network, which has organised protests across Italy. A new organisation, the Net for Defenders hub, has been established to provide legal support to activists likely to be affected by the new provisions.
Our role as civil society and legal practitioners has been crucial in making the contents of the decree understandable to the public, not least because its impacts were initially unclear to many people due to its complex legal language and wide-ranging scope.
Looking ahead, several legal avenues remain open. If a person is charged with one of the new offences, the defence can submit a brief to the judge raising objections of constitutional legitimacy. Should the judge find merit in these objections, they have the power to refer the matter to the Constitutional Court, which will rule on the legality of the provision. Additionally, the prospect of referral to the European Court of Justice to assess a possible violation of European Union law cannot be ruled out. However, we must be realistic about the timeline: these are long and complex processes that may take years to resolve, during which the decree’s chilling effect on civil society will continue.
Italy is currently on the CIVICUS Monitor Watch List, which tracks countries experiencing a serious decline in respect for civic space.