The judicial reform initiated by Giorgia Meloni’s government has become one of the sharpest political and institutional conflicts in Italy in recent years. In the public sphere, it is presented as an attempt to cleanse a justice system that, according to the authorities, has “rotted from within.” At the center of this rhetoric lies the so-called “Palamara trail,” symbolizing a crisis of trust in the Supreme Council of the Magistracy (CSM). At the same time, behind the loud declarations lies a complex interplay of real systemic problems, political interests, and a struggle for the balance of power.
Historically, the Italian judicial system was built to be maximally independent. After the fall of the fascist regime, the 1948 model united judges and prosecutors into a single magistracy corps. Governance of this system was handed to the CSM, which was meant to guarantee autonomy from the executive branch — a safeguard against any possible return to authoritarianism. However, as early as the 1990s, following the large-scale anti-corruption operation of Mani Pulite, the role of the prosecution grew sharply, leading to a protracted conflict between politicians and the judiciary.
Over time, this conflict only deepened. Right-wing political forces, including Italy’s current leadership, increasingly accused the CSM of political bias. The crisis reached its peak with the scandal surrounding former CSM member Luca Palamara — subsequently dubbed the “Palamara trail.” A 2019 investigation revealed that informal groups of influence, so-called correnti (currents), were operating within the judicial system, distributing key positions through behind-the-scenes arrangements. Transcripts of Palamara’s conversations and negotiations documented the involvement of politicians in these processes, dealing a serious blow to the reputation of the entire system. This episode became, for Meloni’s government, proof that the problem is systemic in nature.
Nevertheless, the “Palamara trail” is only one of the drivers of the reform. Italy has for many years faced chronic problems in its justice system. One of the most significant is the slowness of judicial proceedings, which can drag on for years and is regularly criticized by the EU. Moreover, statistics point to the system’s mixed effectiveness: around 50% of cases end in acquittals at first instance, and on appeal this figure can reach nearly 70%. Supporters of the reform cite these numbers as evidence that the system operates inefficiently and requires deep structural change.
Another important factor is the peculiarity whereby judges and prosecutors belong to the same corps and may switch between roles. Critics argue this creates a potential conflict of interest and undermines the principle of judicial impartiality. Italian authorities also point to the system’s insularity and the influence of internal groups that, in their view, obstruct transparent appointments and career advancement.
Against this backdrop, Meloni’s government presents the reform as a tool for “cleansing” the system. Its stated goals include the depoliticization of the judiciary, improved judicial efficiency, and the elimination of role conflicts between judges and prosecutors. Opponents, however, argue that behind these declarations lies a drive to shift the balance of power in favor of the executive branch.
The reform’s key mechanisms reflect this ambiguity. First, it envisages the permanent separation of judicial and prosecutorial careers — under the reform, individuals would no longer be able to switch between roles during their professional lives. Second, it proposes splitting the CSM into two separate bodies, one for judges and one for prosecutors. Third, an element of lottery is introduced in the formation of governing bodies — intended, in the reformers’ vision, to break the grip of informal networks. A separate disciplinary body to oversee magistrates’ conduct would also be established.
Supporters argue these measures will eliminate corporatism and restore public trust in the judicial system. In their view, the magistracy has become a closed elite, unaccountable to society, and stands in need of democratization. They also contend that the separation of roles will strengthen judicial independence and ensure a clearer delineation of functions in criminal proceedings.
Opponents, by contrast, see in the reform a threat to the fundamental principle of the separation of powers. They argue that weakening the unity of the magistracy could lead to prosecution falling under indirect executive control — which, in turn, could reduce the effectiveness of the fight against corruption and organized crime, areas where prosecutorial independence has traditionally played a critical role. Critics also draw parallels with reforms in Eastern European countries, where changes to the judicial system were accompanied by accusations of undermining democracy.
The European context makes the Italian reform particularly sensitive. In countries such as France and Germany, the prosecution is more closely integrated with the executive, demonstrating that different models are viable. However, the experience of Poland and Hungary suggests that reforms aimed at increasing control over the courts can lead to serious conflicts with EU institutions. In this sense, Italy finds itself at a crossroads between differing legal and political traditions.
The situation could unfold through several scenarios. If the reform is approved at referendum, Meloni’s government would significantly consolidate its position, and the reform itself would become a springboard for deeper changes to the system of power — though this could sharpen relations with the EU and intensify domestic tensions. If the reform is rejected, it would represent a serious political blow to the government and strengthen the hand of the opposition. A compromise is also possible, in which select elements of the reform are implemented in a moderated form.
Ultimately, Italy’s judicial reform extends beyond a professional debate about justice. It has become part of a broader struggle for control over state institutions. The “Palamara trail” is deployed as both symbol and argument to justify the need for radical change. Yet the central question remains open: will this reform serve as a tool for cleansing the system, or will it become a mechanism for its political subordination? The answer will matter not only for Italy, but for all of Europe, where the balance between judicial independence and democratic accountability remains one of the defining challenges of our time.