Neo-Fascist Rally Met by Counter-Protest in Dongo as Italy's Legal Gaps on Symbols Persist

Dozens of neo-fascist militants performed Roman salutes in Dongo on Saturday morning, while hundreds of counter-protesters organized by the CGIL trade union sang "Bella Ciao" across the square. Italian police maintained a cordon between the groups at the lakeside town where Benito Mussolini's entourage was executed on April 28, 1945. The April 26 gathering underscores a persistent fracture in Italian society: whether fascist symbols and gestures belong in public space, and how the state should respond.

The Ritual Returns

Dozens of self-identified neo-fascist militants assembled along the lakefront promenade in Dongo, positioning themselves at the precise railing where partisan forces executed Mussolini's entourage on April 28, 1945. Participants enacted the "chiamata del presente"—a roll call of fallen fascists answered by the assembled crowd shouting "presente" and extending right arms in the Roman salute. The ceremony has recurred annually for decades, transforming a site of anti-fascist victory into a contested pilgrimage destination for Italy's far right.

Across the small square, in Piazza Paracchini, several hundred counter-demonstrators organized by the Italy national CGIL trade union confederation and the National Partisan Association (ANPI) of Dongo sang "Bella Ciao," the anthem of the Resistance. Among the participants was Ilaria Salis, a Member of the European Parliament for the Greens and Left Alliance, whose own legal troubles in Hungary—she was detained on charges of assaulting far-right militants before her 2024 election secured parliamentary immunity—have made her a symbolic figure in contemporary anti-fascist circles. While sources confirm her attendance, no specific remarks from Salis at the event have been documented.

The Italy State Police maintained a cordon between the two gatherings. No serious violence erupted, though anti-fascist demonstrators threw water balloons filled with manure toward the neo-fascist group, and police prevented any physical confrontations.

Why This Matters

• Legal ambiguity persists: Italy's 1952 Scelba Law technically bans fascist reorganization and apologia, yet the Supreme Court ruled in 2024 that the Roman salute is not automatically criminal unless it poses a "concrete danger" of party reconstitution—a standard prosecutors struggle to meet.

• Annual flashpoint: Dongo has become the de facto counter-commemoration site for far-right groups who mourn Benito Mussolini's April 28, 1945 execution, turning Liberation Week into a polarized spectacle.

• Political visibility: The presence of MEP Ilaria Salis at the CGIL-led counter-protest signals how anti-fascist mobilization now bridges grassroots unionism and European parliamentary politics.

Historical Weight of Dongo

Dongo occupies an outsized place in Italy's collective memory. On April 27, 1945, partisan fighters intercepted a convoy of fleeing fascist officials near the town, capturing Benito Mussolini disguised in a German greatcoat. The following day, Mussolini, his mistress Claretta Petacci, and several high-ranking Salò Republic functionaries were executed at nearby Giulino di Mezzegra. Their bodies were later transported to Milan and displayed in Piazzale Loreto, closing the violent chapter of fascist rule.

For the ANPI and other Resistance associations, these events symbolize the triumph of democracy over dictatorship and are celebrated annually on Liberation Day (April 25). For neo-fascist movements, Dongo and Giulino represent martyrdom sites, where loyalists of the Social Republic met their deaths. This dual memory transforms the lakeside villages into ideological battlegrounds each spring.

The Museum of the End of the War in Dongo, financed by the Lombardy Region and managed by the Como Province, curates exhibits and walking routes that document the final days of World War II in Italy. Educational materials from the museum and partner institutions like Istituto Luce are integrated into secondary school curricula, ensuring students encounter the events of April 1945 as foundational to the Republican order. Yet the museum's narrative—focused on liberation—competes with the counter-memory cultivated by far-right groups who return each year to perform their own rituals.

Italy's Enforcement Gap

Italy's anti-fascist legal architecture rests on the 1952 Scelba Law, which outlaws the reconstitution of the fascist party and punishes public apologia—defined as exalting fascist leaders, principles, or methods in a manner that could facilitate party reorganization. Article 5 specifically targets "manifestations usual to the dissolved fascist party" at public gatherings, which theoretically covers the Roman salute and roll-call rituals. The 1993 Mancino Law also criminalizes incitement to racial or ethnic hatred and bans organizations promoting discriminatory violence.

In theory, these statutes provide robust tools to suppress fascist resurgence. In practice, judicial interpretation has narrowed their application. The Supreme Court's April 2024 ruling (Sentence 16153/2024) established that symbolic gestures alone do not constitute a crime unless they present a concrete danger of party reconstitution or incite discriminatory violence. This threshold has proven difficult for prosecutors to clear. In February 2026, a Rome preliminary judge dismissed charges against 29 individuals accused of performing the Roman salute during a commemoration at Acca Larentia, concluding no realistic threat of fascist reorganization existed. Conversely, a Ragusa court in April 2025 convicted a CasaPound member for identical conduct, deeming the context sufficiently evocative of fascist ideology to warrant punishment.

The result is a patchwork enforcement regime where local magistrates wield significant discretion. A proposed reform known as the Fiano Law, approved by the Chamber of Deputies in 2017, would have criminalized the production, distribution, or public display of fascist or Nazi symbols and gestures, including the Roman salute, with penalties ranging from six months to two years. However, the bill stalled in the Senate and remains unenacted as of 2026.

What You Should Know

The immediate legal risk for residents attending demonstrations on either side remains low, as police maintain order and serious violence has been avoided. However, displaying fascist symbols or gestures can carry legal consequences depending on local judicial interpretation and whether prosecutors can establish a "concrete danger" of party reorganization. If you witness fascist symbols or incitement to violence, you can file a report with your local prefecture or police station; authorities will assess whether conduct violates existing statutes. Anti-fascist counter-protesters enjoy the same constitutional protections for assembly and expression as any lawful demonstration, provided gatherings remain peaceful and comply with permit requirements.

Persistent Tensions and What Comes Next

For ANPI chapters across Italy, the annual Dongo commemorations are a litmus test of the state's commitment to constitutional anti-fascism. Local ANPI leaders have repeatedly called on prefectures and municipal authorities to deny permits for neo-fascist gatherings, arguing they violate the spirit—if not always the letter—of the Scelba Law. Authorities typically respond by citing freedom of assembly and expression, reasoning that without clear evidence of imminent lawbreaking, bans would be legally indefensible.

This calculus frustrates anti-fascist organizers, who see state tolerance of fascist displays as tacit endorsement. The CGIL's mobilization in Dongo reflects a broader strategy: if the law will not suppress neo-fascist rituals, civil society must physically and symbolically contest them. Organizers expect similar counter-demonstrations to continue during Liberation Week each spring, particularly as the 2024 Supreme Court standard remains the governing legal framework.

For residents concerned about the country's direction, the deeper question is whether symbolic tolerance of fascist displays gradually erodes the constitutional taboo that has underpinned Italian democracy since 1948. That question, more than any single demonstration, will shape the country's political culture in the years ahead.