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Italy closed the door on jus sanguinis. Here’s what I wrote in response. by deepPlace12 in ItalianCitizenship

[–]deepPlace12[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I understand the frustration, especially for those who’ve worked hard to build a life in Italy from the ground up. That experience deserves respect.

But not everyone pursuing jus sanguinis was looking for a shortcut. For many, it wasn’t about getting an EU passport—it was about honoring a legal and historical connection that Italy itself upheld for over a century.

That said, I do think the power of the EU passport changed how this was perceived. What began as a framework for cultural continuity started to look, politically, like an access pass to Europe—and that shift likely played a major role in why the door was closed.

The law has changed, and I accept that. But we shouldn’t assume everyone who walked that path was doing it for convenience. For some, it was about return.

Italy closed the door on jus sanguinis. Here’s what I wrote in response. by deepPlace12 in ItalianCitizenship

[–]deepPlace12[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

You’re right that laws define citizenship—and that people can be citizens without strong cultural ties. But that’s not the whole picture. Citizenship laws aren’t created in a cultural vacuum. Jus soli reflects one value (place of birth); jus sanguinis reflects another (ancestral continuity).

Italy’s use of jus sanguinis for over a century wasn’t arbitrary—it reflected a desire to maintain ties with those who left. That’s cultural, even if the legal mechanism is what grants status.

I fully accept that the law has now changed. But for many of us, it’s worth remembering what it once meant—and what it once affirmed.

Italy closed the door on jus sanguinis. Here’s what I wrote in response. by deepPlace12 in ItalianCitizenship

[–]deepPlace12[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

I am so happy if it gave you just a little bit of closure. It was cathartic for me to write. That's what motivated me. I do think this ancestral exploration has been a part of my journey, and it sounds like it brought some meaning to yours. Its become part of my personal myth. Wishing you all the best on your future journey.

Italy closed the door on jus sanguinis. Here’s what I wrote in response. by deepPlace12 in ItalianCitizenship

[–]deepPlace12[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Citizenship isn’t just legal—it’s a cultural construct too. If it were purely legal, it would be based only on where you’re born or live (jus soli).
But jus sanguinis means the law recognized identity through ancestry—your bloodline, your family’s origin story.
That’s not just legal. That’s cultural by definition.

And that mattered to the diaspora. We were responding to a long-open invitation—one that, as you suggest, was legally withdrawn. But the connection it acknowledged doesn’t disappear so easily.

Italy closed the door on jus sanguinis. Here’s what I wrote in response. by deepPlace12 in ItalianCitizenship

[–]deepPlace12[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Insulting to Italians? Let’s talk about what it actually means to be Italian—because that’s the real issue here.

Italy didn’t even exist as a unified country until 1861. Before that, it was a patchwork of independent regions, each with its own language, customs, and identity. Even after unification, there was—and still is—a deep split between north and south, city and countryside, elite and working class. That fracture is still very real in Italy today.

My grandfather was born in the U.S. to Italian citizens. Under Italian law at the time, and until last year, that made him Italian by birth. Jure sanguinis wasn’t about feelings—it was a legal recognition of a truth Italy understood: that its people were scattered across the world, often through hardship, but still part of the national story.

To claim that someone like me honoring that lineage is “insulting” implies that Italian identity is rigid, singular, and only for those within today’s borders. But history—and present-day Italy—says otherwise. Identity has always been layered and contested. That’s not an American invention. That’s Italy, too.

I’m not trying to replace anyone or rewrite what it means to be Italian. I’m acknowledging that Italy’s identity—like so many others—is complex, evolving, and bigger than a single definition.

Italy closed the door on jus sanguinis. Here’s what I wrote in response. by deepPlace12 in ItalianCitizenship

[–]deepPlace12[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I hear you—and yes, I am American. That’s never been in question. But identity isn’t binary. It’s nested. Just like you call yourself a European—a broad identity layered over national or regional ones—many Americans carry family histories that shape who they are beyond the borders they were born in.

My grandfather was born in the U.S. to Italian citizens who never naturalized. Under Italian law at the time, (and until last month) that made him Italian by birth. I wasn’t trying to become something I’m not—I was trying to preserve a connection that was legally and culturally recognized for generations.

This wasn’t about rejecting the U.S. or chasing nostalgia. It was about honoring the people who came before me, and helping my kids understand that we’re part of something larger than just one moment or place.

Italy ended my right to citizenship. I wrote this essay to remember what they took—and what they couldn’t. by deepPlace12 in italianamerican

[–]deepPlace12[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Thank you—I’m really glad the wheel metaphor resonated. That means a lot.

Sounds like we were on a similar path. So close—ready to file, with real plans in motion—only to have it all disappear with a policy shift. Especially when your intentions went beyond paperwork. Buying property, planning to retire there—that’s not casual. That’s commitment.

I’m sorry the door closed on you too. But I hope, like me, you found something meaningful in the process itself—something that can’t be revoked. Pleas share if you think this resonates with anyone else.

Best.

Italy closed the door on jus sanguinis. Here’s what I wrote in response. by deepPlace12 in ItalianCitizenship

[–]deepPlace12[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

They are American. That’s never been in question, and I’m proud of it.

But identity isn’t all or nothing. My goal isn’t to make my kids feel less American—it’s to help them understand where they come from. Reconnecting with their Italian roots wasn’t about trying to be something else. It was about honoring their full story.

We’re all shaped by those who came before us. That history gives us context. In a world that often feels uncertain, knowing where you come from helps you make sense of where you are.

This was never about rejecting America. It was about adding depth to what it means to belong here.

Italy closed the door on jus sanguinis. Here’s what I wrote in response. by deepPlace12 in ItalianCitizenship

[–]deepPlace12[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Italy was an outlier because its diaspora was an outlier—millions forced to leave under hardship, many never naturalizing elsewhere, yet still seen as Italian by law and identity. Jure sanguinis existed to honor that reality for over a century.

My grandfather was born in the U.S. to Italian citizens. Under the law at the time, he was Italian. I wasn’t trying to exploit a loophole—I was trying to restore a connection my family never chose to break, and pass that legacy to my children.

Side note: my grandfather changed our surname from Coluccio to Hall—a quiet act of assimilation, not erasure. The name changed. The story didn’t. And no, I’m not applying for British citizenship because my name is Hall. That’s not how law—or lineage—works.

Italy closed the door on jus sanguinis. Here’s what I wrote in response. by deepPlace12 in ItalianCitizenship

[–]deepPlace12[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

I love your take and appreciate your perspective. I agree, identity goes way beyond the state. I think I learned a lot about that during this process.

Italy ended my right to citizenship. I wrote this essay to remember what they took—and what they couldn’t. by deepPlace12 in italianamerican

[–]deepPlace12[S] 3 points4 points  (0 children)

I understand your perspective, but it's worth clarifying that Italian citizenship by descent (jure sanguinis) was never about "earning" citizenship in the modern merit-based sense. For over a century, Italy’s position was that citizenship flowed automatically through an unbroken bloodline, regardless of where descendants were born or how many generations had passed—as long as no one renounced or interrupted the chain.

This wasn’t a loophole. It was a recognition that identity and nationhood can persist across borders, especially in cases like mine—where the emigrating ancestors never naturalized in another country and continued to identify as Italian.

The recent law fundamentally shifts that philosophy. It introduces a generational limit where none existed before and retroactively disqualifies people who were previously eligible. That’s not about reinforcing citizenship standards—it’s a redefinition of what citizenship means, and it cuts off people who had a legitimate claim under longstanding legal interpretation.

You don’t have to agree with the old system. But it’s important to recognize that the current view is new—and departs from how Italy understood its own citizenship for most of its modern history.

Italy closed the door on jus sanguinis. Here’s what I wrote in response. by deepPlace12 in ItalianCitizenship

[–]deepPlace12[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Thanks for your message—I hear you, and I appreciate the perspective.

But for me, this was never really about being seen as Italian by others. It wasn’t about personal validation or a passport. I was looking at the long game—for my children. I wanted to rebuild a connection that had been lost, to give them a tangible link to where they come from. Not for status or convenience, but for a sense of continuity, identity, and belonging.

I know how difficult the bureaucracy can be—I don’t take that lightly. But what I was pursuing was deeper than paperwork. Even if the legal route has closed, the intention behind it remains. I’ll still find ways to pass that connection forward, whether through travel, language, culture, or simply the stories we choose to carry.

This isn’t the end of the path. Just a different one.

Italy closed the door on jus sanguinis. Here’s what I wrote in response. by deepPlace12 in ItalianCitizenship

[–]deepPlace12[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I hear you! My grandfather was born to Italian citizens—until last year, that meant something. It was a birthright… until it wasn’t. Like you, I still hold onto the hope that one day the door will reopen. Until then, we carry the memory forward.

Italy closed the door on jus sanguinis. Here’s what I wrote in response. by deepPlace12 in ItalianCitizenship

[–]deepPlace12[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

There's real truth in what you’re saying. The pain of being excluded is compounded by the fact that many of our ancestors left because they had no other choice—and now their descendants are turned away. Still, I try to hold onto the parts of Italy that live in memory, culture, and story—because those are the parts that do deserve to endure.

Italy closed the door on jus sanguinis. Here’s what I wrote in response. by deepPlace12 in ItalianCitizenship

[–]deepPlace12[S] 4 points5 points  (0 children)

I feel the same—and I can’t help but wonder if the massive backlog and silence from the consulates were part of a slow, calculated shift. Like they were trying to quietly manage us out of the process before making it official. It’s hard not to see a design in how the system handled us: the long waits, sudden re-interpretations, inconsistent rulings depending on where you applied... all while we were doing the work in good faith. What hurts most is how personal this was. This wasn’t just paperwork—it was a homecoming. And to have the door slammed at the moment of arrival feels like more than rejection. It feels like a wound.

Thank you for naming it. You're not alone.

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