Since the late 1980s, Italy—above all Milan—has served as a logistical hub for jihadist activities. The Islamic Cultural Institute (ICI) became, over decades, a base for networks such as al-Gama’a al-Islāmiyya. From there, financial flows, fake passport procurement, propaganda, and recruitment were coordinated—so much so that the U.S. Treasury once described the ICI as “al-Qaeda’s headquarters in Europe.”
In the following decades, several terrorist plots emerged—sometimes targeting Italy itself, sometimes with international reach. Among those foiled were: a suspected Islamist chemical weapons attack on the U.S. Embassy in Rome (2001), a plan to blow up a ship in the port of Naples (2005), attempted attacks on Bologna Cathedral or the Milan metro (2006), an Islamist-inspired assault on a synagogue in Milan (2012), and plots to strike St. Peter’s Basilica, the Colosseum, or Venice’s Rialto Bridge. In many cases, early intervention by law enforcement and preventive legislation proved decisive.
Italy has long managed to shield itself from major terrorist attacks—an exception often described as the “Italian anomaly.” Several factors help explain this: large-scale Muslim immigration started later than in other Western states, which meant fewer entrenched radicalized milieus; Italy was not considered a primary jihadist target; and “Rome” functioned more as a symbolic reference to the West than as a concrete strike objective.
A key factor is also the country’s dense security apparatus: police, intelligence, prosecutors, and judiciary operate in close coordination, enabling surveillance, early investigations, and deportations. Italian anti-terror law, particularly Articles 270 bis and 270 quinquies of the Penal Code, makes it possible to criminalize extremist activity at a very early stage. Since 2015, roughly 258 non-EU citizens have been expelled without trial but on grounds of sufficient security risk.
The most notable act of Islamist violence was carried out by Mohammed Game, who in 2009 detonated a small pipe bomb outside a Carabinieri station in Milan. With limited explosive power, the attack injured him and a police officer. As Game was not linked to any network, he was classified as a “lone wolf.”
Alongside repression, Italy has stepped up preventive efforts. The 2017 “National Pact for an Italian Islam” committed Islamic associations to holding Friday sermons partly in Italian, ensuring transparent mosque financing, and condemning extremism. In prisons, vetted imams were introduced to promote civic values and diversity.
Yet, indicators remain concerning: surveys suggest that up to 24% of Muslims in Italy consider religious justifications for violence acceptable. Increasingly, radicalization occurs online, especially via social media. After the 2023 attacks in France and Belgium, Interior Minister Matteo Piantedosi warned that similar dynamics could unfold in Italy, particularly among self-radicalized individuals.
Overall, Italy has so far avoided large-scale attacks. But lone actors, internet-driven radicalization, and the steady reliance on deportations and preventive programs demonstrate that the threat is real. The struggle against Islamist extremism in Italy takes place at the intersection of law, society, and security—often quietly, but effectively.
The Political Front: Islam and Italy’s Restrictive Turn
For years, Italy has pursued an increasingly restrictive approach toward Muslim communities, particularly regarding Islam’s political expression. Unlike Christianity or Judaism, Islam is still not legally recognized as an official religion, despite more than one million Muslims living in the country. Only eight officially recognized mosques exist.
Against this backdrop, policymakers have advanced legislation designed to shut down unofficial prayer spaces—often converted garages or warehouses. Giorgia Meloni’s party Fratelli d’Italia has pushed legal reforms via building codes to block such venues. Meanwhile, regions such as Lombardy and Veneto have made new mosque construction arduous by imposing bureaucratic reviews, public consultations, and planning restrictions.
These moves are accompanied by a deliberate political rhetoric. Meloni frequently warns of the “Islamization” of Europe, echoing the tone of the “First Report on Europe’s Islamisation.” Matteo Salvini’s Lega Nord has repeatedly staged Islam-critical campaigns, including a notorious election poster contrasting a veiled woman with a “free” Western woman—a stunt that provoked lawsuits from the model pictured, who had not consented to the use of her image.
A striking case occurred in Monfalcone, where right-wing mayor Anna Maria Cisint banned Muslim prayer in cultural centers, citing a lack of zoning permits. The local Muslim community, which had long prayed peacefully there, denounced the measure as an infringement of their constitutional rights and took legal action. The controversy sparked nationwide debate and mobilized grassroots initiatives to bridge cultural divides.
Italy has also experimented with institutional dialogue, such as the “Council for Relations with Italian Islam” and the “National Pact for an Italian Islam.” The aim was to foster a form of Muslim communal life aligned with civic and even Christian-humanist values. Yet, this approach now appears outdated against the reality of increasingly restrictive local practices.
At the same time, hate speech targeting racial and religious minorities has surged, especially online. According to the 2025 Liberties human rights report, discriminatory language has risen significantly, posing a major challenge to integration. The Economist Intelligence Unit’s Democracy Index also underscores the strain on Italian democracy, highlighting setbacks in media freedom, judicial independence, and fundamental rights.
One key issue remains unresolved: the Union of Islamic Communities in Italy (UCOII)—often accused of ties to the Muslim Brotherhood—controls around 80% of mosques and Islamic centers. While it demands equal recognition and a genuine dialogue, Italy’s fragmented Muslim communities make such negotiations difficult.
Italy’s policies against political Islam combine legislative restriction, securitized rhetoric, and the policing of informal religious spaces. The absence of formal recognition for Islam continues to limit equal participation for Muslims, while societal polarization and rising hate speech exacerbate the tension. What emerges is a paradox: a country that has been successful in preventing attacks, but at the cost of institutionalizing suspicion and limiting religious freedom.
