The Ferragosto theft in Messina and the figures – which are, on the whole, reassuring – on art thefts in Italy

Two paintings by Antonello da Messina remain missing, following the recovery of four other works abandoned by thieves as they fled. Comparisons with the Louvre, theories and what the authorities’ statistics on the security of Italian museums actually reveal

17 AUG 26
Translated by AI
Image of The Ferragosto theft in Messina and the figures – which are, on the whole, reassuring – on art thefts in Italy

The double-sided panel depicting the Madonna and Christ in Pietà, kept in the display case from which it was stolen on the evening of 15 August at the MuMe, the Regional Museum of Messina (Elisabetta Baracchi/Ansa)

On Ferragosto, in Italy, nothing happens. Usually. Offices close, politicians take a break, even the news takes a breather. And perhaps even those who are supposed to keep their eyes open close them a little. On the evening of 15 August, whilst the Vara procession is taking place in Messina, three or four thieves break into the MuMe, the largest museum in southern Italy, and make their way to the galleries where Antonello da Messina’s works are housed. In a matter of minutes, they removed three panels from the San Gregorio Polyptych, signed and dated 1473, and stole the double-sided panel depicting the Madonna and Christ in Piety from a secure display case (unsigned, but attributed in 2003 when the regional government purchased it from Christie’s). As they fled, they abandoned two panels from the polyptych, which were recovered that very night. The following day, another tip-off led to the recovery of two further panels, which had been left on a pavement. To date, one panel from the polyptych and the double-sided panel remain missing.
The newspapers are talking about a ‘major heist’ and the most popular comparison is with the Louvre, where eight crown jewels were stolen almost a year ago. On reflection, however, the parallel seems somewhat off the mark. Whilst the economic value of the two heists is indeed comparable, the cases involve two distinct criminal economies: gemstones can always be dismantled and cut to render them unrecognisable, and metals can be melted down and resold, even if this means the stolen goods lose their historical identity and much of their value. The paintings, on the other hand, are unsellable loot. The motives remain the same as ever: insurance payouts, blackmailing institutions, and use as a bargaining chip within criminal circles. A work of art too well-known to be sold off is, in the long run, also difficult to keep hidden.
The case in Messina appears to be an isolated incident within a trend that is moving in the opposite direction. According to the Carabinieri Command for the Protection of Cultural Heritage, 307 thefts of cultural property were reported in 2025, an increase on the 274 recorded in 2024 but a far cry from the 474 in 2018 or the approximately 800 recorded fifteen years ago. The increase is concentrated in places of worship and private collections: together, they account for over 70 per cent of total thefts. Museums account for the smallest share, with just 17 cases last year – little more than 5 per cent: statistically, they remain the most secure place for a work of art, with the usual exceptions such as the heist on Ferragosto. Another figure further qualifies the picture: in 2025, the number of items stolen fell by almost 40 per cent compared with 2024. More thefts, but on a smaller scale: hit-and-run heists, not systematic large-scale operations. The Command itself, established in 1969 as the world’s first police force dedicated to cultural heritage, recovered 84,527 items last year.
In October, the Ministry of Culture allocated over 70 million euros for two AI-based video surveillance projects across Southern Italy, capable of recognising suspicious movements and triggering predictive alarms. Here, however, the picture becomes more complicated: the funds are earmarked for archaeological parks, not for municipal museums such as the MuMe. Furthermore, there is no ongoing budget allocation for the security of individual state museums: the Cultural Heritage Code leaves each security plan to the resources available to each individual institution. The Sicilian president, Renato Schifani, stated that the MuMe’s alarm and CCTV systems were functioning normally on the evening of the theft. The four security guards on duty, when interviewed by the police, reported that they had not noticed anything. In short, one cannot speak of a defenceless heritage, and the problem is not so much systemic: it is simply that on that night, in that room, probably no one was watching the right screen.