For more than a century and a half, the rules defining who qualifies as Italian were remarkably straightforward. Since the unification of Italy in 1861, citizenship has largely been determined by bloodline. The country’s first civil code, published in 1865, made this principle explicit: a child born to an Italian citizen was automatically an Italian citizen.
That legal foundation known as jus sanguinis, or the “right of blood”, has shaped Italy’s identity ever since, binding millions of people across the globe to the country through ancestry rather than birthplace. But today, that long-standing principle is facing one of its most significant challenges in modern history, as a controversial new law threatens to redefine the meaning of Italian citizenship and weaken ties with the country’s vast diaspora.
A Legal Tradition Under Pressure
For generations, jus sanguinis allowed Italians who emigrated to pass their citizenship down through the centuries, provided they never formally renounced it. This meant that even distant descendants, great-grandchildren or beyond could claim Italian nationality, as long as they could document their lineage back to an ancestor who remained an Italian citizen after the country’s unification.
This approach reflected Italy’s history as a nation shaped by emigration. Between 1861 and 1918, an estimated 16 million Italians left the country in search of better opportunities abroad. Many settled in places like Argentina, the United States, and Brazil, but they often retained a strong sense of Italian identity. They preserved their language, customs, and, crucially, their citizenship, passing it down to future generations.
The principle of jus sanguinis was reinforced in subsequent laws, including a 1912 citizenship statute that explicitly allowed Italians born abroad to retain their nationality. It was reaffirmed again in a major reform in 1992, which modernized Italy’s citizenship system while maintaining its core reliance on ancestry.
For decades, this legal continuity created a powerful bond between Italy and its diaspora. It also made Italian citizenship one of the most accessible in Europe for people with ancestral ties to the country.
Constitutional Court Backs New Restrictions
That long-standing framework is now being reshaped. A new law introduced on March 28, 2025, via emergency decree significantly restricts who can claim citizenship by descent. Under the revised rules, only individuals with a parent or grandparent born in Italy are eligible effectively ending claims based on more distant ancestry.
The law has proven highly controversial and was challenged by several judges who questioned whether it violated constitutional principles. But in a major development, Italy’s Constitutional Court of Italy has indicated it will side with the government.
Following the first of four hearings, the court announced that the constitutional challenges raised by a court in Turin were “partially unfounded and partially inadmissible.” While a full written ruling is still expected in the coming weeks, the statement strongly suggests that the court will uphold the new restrictions.
For many legal experts and applicants, the decision represents a turning point. Professor Corrado Caruso, one of the lawyers who argued against the law, expressed disappointment, noting that he had hoped the court would find constitutional flaws in the decree.
“It was an extremely clear, harsh intervention,” he said, adding that the court’s initial position dealt a serious blow to those seeking to preserve Italy’s traditional approach to citizenship.
The new law also introduces additional limitations that go beyond narrowing ancestry requirements. It effectively restricts dual citizenship for descendants abroad by requiring that the qualifying parent or grandparent held only Italian citizenship at the time of their child’s birth or at the time of their death, if earlier.
This provision marks a significant departure from past practice, where dual nationality was widely accepted and even encouraged as a way of maintaining ties with Italian communities overseas.
Diaspora Impact and Growing Debate
The implications of the reform are far-reaching, particularly for Italy’s global diaspora. For many families, citizenship was not just a legal status but a symbol of identity and belonging. Now, that connection is being redefined and, in some cases, severed.
The process of claiming citizenship through ancestry has always been complex. Applicants must gather birth, marriage, and death certificates from multiple generations, often from small towns in Italy. These documents can take years to obtain and cost up to 300 euros each. Applicants must also prove that no ancestor in their lineage ever renounced Italian citizenship.
Even after completing this documentation, applicants face long waiting times at consulates, where appointment backlogs can stretch up to 10 years. Some choose to hire lawyers and pursue their claims through Italian courts instead—a faster but far more expensive route that can cost tens of thousands of euros for a family.
The system has also long faced criticism for historical inequalities. Until 1948, Italian women were not allowed to pass citizenship to their children. Descendants of women who gave birth before that year were excluded from citizenship claims unless they pursued legal action. Since 2009, many have successfully challenged this rule in court on the grounds of gender discrimination—but those pathways are now effectively closed under the new law.
Meanwhile, the surge in applications has placed increasing pressure on Italy’s administrative system. Consulates have struggled to keep up with demand, and regional courts have been overwhelmed with citizenship cases.
Between 2014 and 2024, the number of Italian citizens living abroad grew from 4.6 million to 6.4 million, according to government data. In Argentina alone, consulates processed 30,000 applications in 2024, highlighting the scale of global demand.
Supporters of the reform argue that many applicants have only tenuous connections to Italy and do not participate in civic life. They note that many do not pay taxes in the country or engage in its political system, raising questions about the meaning of citizenship in a globalized world.
Caruso acknowledged these concerns, pointing to administrative strain, geopolitical considerations, and questions about fairness as factors influencing the reform. He also suggested that international dynamics may have played a role, noting that Italian citizenship grants access to the European Union and global mobility benefits.
Despite these arguments, critics warn that the law risks undermining Italy’s historical relationship with its diaspora. The change comes at a time when the country is facing a demographic crisis, with a shrinking and aging population.
In 2024, a record 155,732 Italians emigrated, and more than half a million residents left the country between 2020 and 2024. Regions such as Sicily have struggled with population decline, prompting local initiatives to attract descendants of Italian emigrants back to their ancestral towns.
Programs like the “one-euro homes” initiative in places such as Mussomeli sought to revitalize communities by encouraging foreign buyers often of Italian descent to settle there. In some cases, professionals from abroad, including doctors from Argentina, were recruited to fill critical shortages in local services.
Under the new citizenship rules, such efforts may become more difficult, as fewer descendants will qualify for Italian nationality.
Caruso warned that the law could create disparities even within families. “One sibling might have citizenship, but another couldn’t get the same treatment,” he said, highlighting the uneven impact of the reforms.
The government’s legal argument rests on a fundamental reinterpretation of citizenship. Officials have claimed that descendants who had not formally applied for recognition before 2025 were not citizens in practice, but merely held an expectation of citizenship. Without a formal claim, they argued, the connection to Italy was “fictitious” and could be legally withdrawn.
Because rulings by Italy’s Constitutional Court cannot be appealed, options for challenging the law domestically are limited. Caruso said that future legal efforts may shift to European institutions, suggesting that cases could be referred to courts in Luxembourg for review under European Union law.
For now, uncertainty remains. While the Constitutional Court still has additional cases to consider, its initial stance suggests that the government’s reforms are likely to stand.
“I don’t want to lose hope,” Caruso said. “Maybe it’s not the end of the war but it will be a difficult war.”
What is clear is that Italy’s approach to citizenship is undergoing a profound transformation. A system that once embraced generations of descendants across the globe is being narrowed, redefining who can claim to be Italian in the 21st century and leaving many to reconsider what that identity means.
