Meloni's Italy faces scrutiny over democratic drift as 2027 election looms

Two years after Giorgia Meloni became Italy's first female prime minister, the country's democratic architecture is being stress-tested from multiple directions at once. A majority-bonus electoral law that would all but guarantee her coalition a parliamentary supermajority has cleared the lower house. Access to legal abortion has become a geographical lottery. A migrant processing centre in Albania operates under a controversial agreement with Tirana. And the death of a Moroccan-born man in Bologna after police restraint has reopened questions about accountability and the treatment of minorities.

The electoral reform that could lock in a majority

The most structural change underway is the electoral law. The proposal, which passed the Chamber of Deputies in recent months, would reintroduce a majority bonus: the coalition that wins a plurality would receive extra seats, securing an absolute majority in parliament even with well under 50 per cent of the vote. The measure has not yet been approved by the Senate, where the government's majority is thinner. If it clears both chambers before the 2027 general election, critics argue it would entrench the current coalition's power and weaken the proportional representation system that has defined Italian democracy since the 1990s.

Sandro Gozi, an Italian MEP elected in France on the Renew Europe ticket, describes the reform as part of a broader illiberal drift. He points to restrictions on civil society, growing political pressure on public broadcasters, and the majority bonus as a package designed to insulate the government from electoral accountability. The government counters that the reform brings stability to a system notorious for short-lived cabinets; since 1945 Italy has had 68 governments.

Abortion access: legal right, practical barrier

Italy legalised abortion in 1978 with Law 194, which permits termination on request within the first 90 days. The same law allows medical staff to refuse to perform the procedure on grounds of conscientious objection. In practice, that clause has become the rule rather than the exception. National health data show that roughly 70 per cent of gynaecologists in the public system declare themselves objectors; in some southern regions the figure exceeds 90 per cent. The result is that women in parts of Sicily, Calabria and Molise often have to travel hundreds of kilometres to reach a hospital willing to perform the procedure.

Ylenja Lucaselli, a Brothers of Italy MP, acknowledges the disparity but frames it as a consequence of individual freedom of conscience. Opponents argue the state has failed in its obligation to guarantee a constitutional right, pointing out that the health ministry has never enforced the requirement that hospitals ensure non-objecting staff are available on every shift. The issue has become a flashpoint in the culture war that Meloni's coalition has embraced, with family and traditional values ministries given expanded portfolios.

Migration: rhetoric versus labour-market reality

Meloni's 2022 victory was built partly on a promise to drastically reduce irregular arrivals. Her government negotiated a deal with Albania to house up to 3,000 asylum seekers at a time in two centres built and operated by Italy on Albanian soil. The first transfers began in late 2024, but legal challenges in both Italian and Albanian courts have slowed the programme. Human rights groups argue the arrangement circumvents EU asylum law by processing claims outside the Union's territory.

At the same time, the government has responded to screams from employers, particularly in agriculture, construction, tourism and care work, by approving an additional 500,000 work visas for non-EU nationals over the 2026, 2028 period. The decree, published in the Gazzetta Ufficiale in spring 2026, allocates quotas by sector and region. Business associations welcomed the move; the CGIL trade union warned it risks creating a two-tier labour market without adequate protections. The contradiction between the political narrative of closed borders and the economic necessity of foreign labour is not new in Italy, but the scale of the visa expansion underscores how acute the demographic crunch has become.

The Bologna death and the policing debate

On a July evening in Bologna, a 34-year-old Moroccan-born man died after being restrained by municipal police during an identity check. Video footage circulated on social media showed officers pinning him to the ground for several minutes. The prosecutor's office opened an investigation for involuntary manslaughter; three officers were placed under investigation. Protests erupted in the city centre and spread to Milan and Rome, organised by anti-racism groups and left-wing parties. The interior ministry defended the police, citing the man's alleged resistance and prior record, but the case has become a symbol for campaigners who argue that migrants and second-generation Italians face disproportionate force.

The incident also exposed tensions within the coalition. Matteo Salvini's League, which controls the interior ministry, has pushed for broader immunity for law-enforcement officers. Forza Italia, led by Tajani, has urged caution, fearing the issue could damage Italy's standing in European forums where rule-of-law conditionality is increasingly tied to funding.

Tajani, Trump and the transatlantic balancing act

Antonio Tajani, foreign minister and deputy prime minister, is the coalition's most experienced Atlanticist. A former European Parliament president and longtime lieutenant of Silvio Berlusconi, he has sought to maintain Italy's traditional alignment with Washington while navigating a Trump presidency that has questioned NATO commitments and threatened tariffs on European goods. In the France 24 interview, Tajani acknowledged "strains" in the relationship, particularly over trade and the US approach to Ukraine. He insisted Italy remains a reliable ally but admitted that European strategic autonomy, long a French priority, now looks less like rhetoric and more like necessity.

The friction is not purely diplomatic. Italian defence firms, including Leonardo, depend on US technology transfers and joint programmes. The government's decision to join the European Sky Shield Initiative, a German-led air-defence project, while also purchasing US F-35s, illustrates the hedging. Tajani's room for manoeuvre is constrained by Meloni's own rapport with Trump, which she cultivated during her 2022 campaign and reinforced at CPAC gatherings. That personal chemistry may not survive a second Trump term if transactional demands escalate.

Media pressure and the public broadcaster

Control of RAI, the state broadcaster, has been a prize for every Italian government since the 1950s. Under Meloni, the governing board was reshuffled within weeks of taking office, and editorial lines on flagship news programmes have shifted noticeably. Journalists' unions have documented a rise in political interference: hosts moved, investigative strands dropped, critical voices marginalised. The European Federation of Journalists placed Italy on its watch list in 2025, citing "systematic political pressure" and the use of defamation lawsuits against reporters. The government denies censorship, arguing that previous administrations did the same and that RAI now reflects the electoral mandate.

The broader media landscape is also changing. Private broadcasters in the Mediaset group, still controlled by the Berlusconi family, have aligned editorially with the coalition. Independent outlets such as Domani and Il Fatto Quotidiano face sustained legal and financial pressure. The result, media analysts say, is a narrowing of the public sphere that predates Meloni but has accelerated under her premiership.

Judicial independence and the separation of powers

The most consequential institutional clash may be over the judiciary. The government has proposed a constitutional reform separating the careers of prosecutors and judges, a long-standing demand of the centre-right that the left and the magistrates' association (ANM) argue would subordinate prosecutors to political control. The justice minister, Carlo Nordio, a former prosecutor himself, frames the reform as a guarantee of impartiality. Critics counter that it would allow the executive to influence promotions and transfers, eroding the autonomy that has enabled Italian courts to pursue corruption at the highest levels, from the Tangentopoli scandals of the 1990s to recent investigations into party financing.

The reform requires a two-thirds majority in both houses or a confirmatory referendum. With the current parliamentary arithmetic, the government would need opposition support or a popular vote. Polls suggest a referendum would be close, but the very fact that the proposal has reached this stage marks a shift: for three decades, the judiciary has been the one institution that neither Berlusconi nor his successors managed to restructure.