In a chamber of the Italian Parliament, beneath frescoed ceilings and marble columns, something quietly extraordinary was unfolding.
It wasn’t a protest. It wasn’t a sermon. It was a conversation — one that had taken decades to arrive at this room, in this country, with these voices.
Titled “Senza Intesa: Le Nuove Religioni alla Prova dell’Articolo 8 della Costituzione” , the symposium gathered an unlikely cast: imams and pastors, Taoist priests and Pentecostal leaders, scholars and lawmakers. They came not just to speak — but to be heard.
At its heart was a simple question: What does it mean to be a religion in Italy without formal recognition?
And behind that question lay another, deeper one: Who gets to belong?
The Long Road to Visibility
For Pastore Emanuele Frediani , leader of the Italian Apostolic Church, the answer has been shaped by time and struggle.
Frediani’s church, now spanning over 70 congregations across Italy and beyond, has long sought legal recognition. But even after securing an intesa — the formal agreement between religious groups and the State — he still felt the weight of exclusion pressing on those who hadn’t made it through the door.
“I have a duty,” he said, “toward those sitting beside me, and others in the audience. We need to help them find their place.”
His words were met with nods from Pastora Roselen Boener Faccio , head of the Chiesa Sabaoth, whose congregation grew from living rooms into storefronts — places where prayer filled the air, if not the lawbooks. “We started with three kids in pajamas one Sunday morning,” she said, recalling the humble beginnings of his denomination in Italy. “Today we’re a national community.”
“Back then, no one stopped us,” she said. “But as we grow, we need visibility.”
The Weight of Waiting
For many in the room, waiting was not just a metaphor — it was a lived reality.
Fabrizio D’Agostino, representing the Church of Scientology in Italy, described how his community — 105,000 strong — often felt invisible:
“We’re present worldwide. We want to be recognized as legal entities.”
He wasn’t asking for special treatment. Just parity. “We need a cultural change, and an approach based on equal rights for everyone, respect of human dignity, with a drive to better knowledge and understanding of what we are facing in life”.
Across the table sat Vincenzo Di Ieso, President of the Chiesa Taoista d’Italia, who offered a different perspective:
“I don’t want recognition from the State. Do I need the State to exist?”
His voice cut through the tension like a bell in silence. He didn’t reject the system — he questioned its necessity.
Yet even Di Ieso acknowledged that faith, in practice, could not live entirely outside the walls of law.
Islam: Fragmented, Yet Present
No group bore the weight of scrutiny more than Muslims.
Yassine Lafram, President of UCOII (Unione delle Comunità Islamiche Italiane), spoke with the weariness of someone who had knocked on closed doors for years:
“We’ve been here for decades but aren’t seen as credible partners. Dialogue is possible but requires reciprocity.”
He described mosques forced in garages, imams working second jobs, and children growing up without proper spaces to pray or learn their own traditions.
An Imam from the Mosque della Pace in Rieti echoed his concerns:
“Islam is one in Italy. Why do we remain divided into federations and confederations?”
His call was clear: unity was strength. And strength, he insisted, was what would finally force Rome to listen.
Batalla Sanna, a cultural mediator and Muslim citizen, added:
“I didn’t arrive here as evangelical or Catholic. I arrive here representing Italy.”
He urged Muslims to stop seeing themselves as outsiders and begin embracing civic identity as much as spiritual belonging.
Law and the Limits of Law
Professor Marco Ventura, an expert in canon law from the University of Siena, laid out a sweeping history of religious recognition in Italy — seven distinct phases over centuries.
“”The system of rules for the religious phenomenon must continue to evolve according to the spirit of the Constitutional Charter and the dynamism that has characterized these decades of republican experience, in particular the forty years that have passed since the reforms of 1984-85. Civil and religious authorities, faith communities, civil society, must continue to develop that spirit with that dynamism, taking on the responsibility of finding tools that are increasingly adequate to individual and collective needs, in loyal collaboration between public authorities and religious confessions.
Consigliere Laura Lega, former Prefect and now a Consigliere di Stato, acknowledged the problem bluntly:
“Religious freedom must find its balance between rights and duties.”
She described how the bureaucratic process of seeking recognition could take years, sometimes decades, leaving communities in limbo — legally invisible, yet deeply present in everyday life.
Professor Ludovica Decimo, of the University of Sassari, called for reform:
“Civil Code Article 83 is obsolete. It should speak of ‘recognized worship,’ not just ‘admitted worship.’”
Her words were met with scribbled notes and murmurs of agreement — a sign that the legal community was ready for change.
Politics: Promises and Possibilities
Onorevole Onorevole Paola Boscaini, Forza Italia parliamentary group (speaking remotely), offered a legislative vision:
“We must think about a new law on religions, replacing the 1929 one and reflecting today’s reality.”
Her words were echoed by , also joining via video link:
“Next year we’ll find some small steps forward… I’m already reserving my spot for next year.”
It was a rare moment of political optimism in a country where change often moves like sediment in still water.
Hon. Boscaini reiterated her support: “This kind of dialogue is essential. We need to modernize our laws — not just update them.”
Faith in Action
Among the most moving stories came from Pastor Pietro Garonna, representing the Unione Cristiana Pentecostale:
“In God’s name, let’s make peace with institutions.”
Garonna described how his community had helped during the Ukrainian refugee crisis — without formal agreements, without funding, but with deep conviction.
Rogeria Azevedo , a Brazilian-born interfaith advocate and attorney, brought a global lens to the discussion:
“The growth of Afro-Brazilian religions in Italy reflects a broader search — for identity, spirituality, and a sense of belonging.”
She noted that communities like Candomblé and Umbanda were drawing not only Brazilians, but Italians searching for alternative spiritual paths.
“Italian society is changing,” she said. “So are its beliefs.”
The Moderator’s Burden
Guiding the day’s conversation was Professor Antonio Fuccillo, Ordinario di Diritto Ecclesiastico at Università Vanvitelli and Director of the Observatory on Religious Entities, Religious Assets and No-profit Organizations of the University Luigi Vanvitelli.
Fucillo, a man used to navigate both academic halls and government corridors, kept the discussions tight and respectful.
“Thank you all. The road is long, but today we’ve taken important steps.”
He had spent years studying the tangled relationship between state and faith. Now, he was helping to untangle it.
A Bishop’s Vision
One of the final voices belonged to don Luis Miguel Perea Castrillon, Bishop of the Orthodox Anglican Church :
“Together we are stronger. Unity doesn’t erase differences — it enhances them.”
His words lingered as people began to rise from their seats. Some shook hands. Others exchanged phone numbers. A few lingered, speaking softly, perhaps realizing they were not alone after all.
The Search for Recognition
The symposium ended not with declarations or manifestos, but with something more potent: reciprocal understanding . In a country still grappling with its secular identity and multicultural evolution, the voices heard in that room painted a picture of a future where religious diversity is not merely tolerated — but embraced.
Italy may not yet have a roadmap for integrating all faiths into its legal framework, but the conversations begun in that hall will undoubtedly shape the next chapter in its constitutional journey.
And as the final echo of Fuccillo’s closing remarks faded into the chamber’s vaulted ceiling, one truth remained: the search for recognition is not just about legal status.
It’s about being seen.
We acknowledge The European Times for the information.
