Italy is preparing to reintroduce a national holiday honoring one of its most celebrated spiritual figures: Saint Francis of Assisi. On October 1, 2025, the Senate Constitutional Affairs Committee approved a bill to reinstate October 4—the feast day of Saint Francis—as a public holiday, beginning in 2026. The measure, which had already passed the Chamber of Deputies with overwhelming support, marks the return of a tradition that was discontinued in 1977. The move has drawn both political and cultural attention, highlighting the enduring—and sometimes contested—role of Saint Francis in Italian identity and history.
Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni, who has championed the holiday’s return, greeted the Senate’s decision with enthusiasm. "I welcome with joy and satisfaction the news of the Senate’s final approval of the parliamentary bill reintroducing, after 50 years, Oct. 4, the day on which we celebrate St. Francis, the patron saint of Italy, as a national holiday," Meloni said, according to CNA. She emphasized that the government has "wholeheartedly supported the legislative process of the bill, which has taken up and made its own the appeal launched a year ago by Davide Rondoni, poet and president of the National Committee for the Celebrations of the Eighth Centenary of the Death of the Poverello [Poor Man] of Assisi."
Meloni framed the restoration of the holiday as an act of national unity, saying, "The bipartisan and virtually unanimous support for the bill is an important sign of the unity found in politics around one of the most representative and distinctive figures of our national identity. A saint beloved by the entire Italian people and in whom all Italians identify. The national holiday will be an opportunity to celebrate an extraordinary man and remind us, every year, who we are and what unites us profoundly."
Yet, as UnHerd reports, the story of Saint Francis’s role in Italian national identity is far from straightforward. The man born Giovanni di Pietro di Bernardone in 1182, canonized just two years after his death, has long been an icon—though not always for the reasons he might have chosen himself. The future saint, famed for his radical embrace of poverty and humility, asked to die naked and forgotten. Instead, he became a symbol, his memory appropriated for all manner of political and cultural agendas.
The modern obsession with Saint Francis began in earnest during the 19th century, particularly around the 700th anniversary of his birth in 1882. In a newly unified Italy, the monarchy and nationalist thinkers sought figures who could bridge the gap between state and church. Saint Francis, with his modesty and regional roots, was recast as the “Italian of heart and mind,” as The Echo of Saint Francis put it. Sculptures and biographies from this era placed him alongside Dante and Columbus, blending religious and civic pride.
This pattern of political appropriation continued into the 20th century. Fascist leaders, including Benito Mussolini, invoked Francis as a model Italian—sometimes even comparing his supposed virtues with those of Il Duce. During Italy’s colonial campaigns, Francis was depicted as a crusader, and in cinema, he became a symbol of national unity. The 1927 film Frate Francesco was described by its director as "a triumph of faith and beauty to demonstrate that we Italians are still capable of standing up to foreign competition." After World War II, his legacy was again reshaped, this time as a hero of postwar socialism and later as a patron saint of ecology.
Meloni’s government has made the revival of Saint Francis Day part of a broader nationalist agenda. According to UnHerd, this includes initiatives such as tax cuts on Italian art, reducing the use of English in official documents, and banning lab-grown meat to protect Italy’s culinary heritage. The return of the holiday, axed in 1977 during a wave of economic austerity and modernization, is seen as both a cultural and economic gesture—an extra day off signaling confidence in the nation’s economic health.
Religious leaders have also weighed in on the significance of the holiday’s restoration. Cardinal Matteo Maria Zuppi, president of the Italian Bishops’ Conference, welcomed the move, saying, "This decision offers an opportunity to rediscover the figure of the patron saint of Italy, who has profoundly shaped the character of our country. This is even more so in this time, torn by divisions, growing international tensions, and a dramatic escalation of global violence. St. Francis, whose primary goal was to proclaim peace, reminds us that a fraternal, unarmed world is possible, where everyone has their own space, starting with the poorest and most vulnerable." Zuppi added, "His life and work can inspire political love and love for creation, so that the common good prevails over speculative logic and the logic of the strongest, over partisan interests and polarization."
Despite these lofty ambitions, the reality of Italian identity remains complex. As UnHerd notes, regionalism still runs deep in Italy, with many citizens feeling a stronger connection to their city or region than to the nation as a whole. A 2021 poll found that just 20% of Italians identified primarily as Italian, down 8% from a decade earlier. Local patron saints often command more devotion than national figures: the Milanese celebrate Saint Ambrose, Neapolitans honor Saint Januarius, and Venetians rally around Saint Mark. In Florence, the feast of John the Baptist is a citywide event. These traditions reflect a country where local identity frequently trumps national unity—something that even the most well-intentioned central government struggles to overcome.
The revival of Saint Francis Day is, therefore, both a reflection of Italy’s ongoing search for unity and a reminder of the challenges that come with forging a collective national memory. Politicians and cultural leaders may invoke Saint Francis as a symbol of what unites Italians, but his life and legacy have been interpreted in countless ways over the centuries—sometimes as a model of Christian humility, sometimes as a nationalist hero, and sometimes as a champion of the poor and the environment. Each generation, it seems, finds in Francis the qualities it most needs or desires.
Yet, as the country prepares to celebrate his feast day once again, there’s a certain irony in the fact that the real Francis—who blessed rabbits, sang to the birds, and sought obscurity—might have wanted none of this attention. His enduring appeal may lie precisely in his refusal to be easily categorized or claimed. As Italy heads toward its first national Saint Francis Day in nearly half a century, the debate over what, and who, defines Italian identity is sure to continue.
