In a bid to tackle the burqa, Kelany’s (FdI) bill bans all face coverings in public places

To stand up to radical Islam, Fratelli d’Italia is banning Arlecchino. The law against the full-face veil, which the Chamber of Deputies is currently examining, is drafted with such fervour that it targets not only the niqab but, whilst it’s at it, Carnival too. Anyone who steps out of the house in February dressed as Zorro therefore risks one to two years’ imprisonment, just like an ‘Autonomo’ protester from 1977 wearing a balaclava. The Reale Law of 1975, in fact – enacted at a time when people marched in demonstrations with their faces covered – prohibits making oneself unrecognisable in a public place ‘without just cause’. These three words have, for half a century, kept the Carabinieri at bay from the lad dressed as a pirate at Villa Bellini in Catania, from the skier wrapped up warm on the slopes of Ovindoli, and from the lady from Trieste braving the bora with her scarf pulled right down over her glasses.

Sara Kelany, an MP for Fratelli d’Italia and the lead signatory to the proposal, removes the phrase ‘justified reason’ from the Reale bill, replacing it with ‘subject to legal obligations’ – a clause that offers no protection whatsoever – and, before putting pen to paper, adds ‘masks’ to the list of prohibited items. In practice, if the law were to pass as it stands, only motorcyclists would be permitted to go about with their faces covered – provided they never dismount. For everyone else, life as a fugitive begins. A commuter who, in January, protects himself from the flu by wearing a face mask will discover on the underground that he is considered a public menace, whereas the neighbour who sneezes on him with his face uncovered is, by law, blameless. Father Christmas, that big rascal, spends his days at the shopping centre with a fake beard on his face and a queue of children in front of him – in other words, he commits an offence in the presence of witnesses.

Consider the bride walking toward the altar with her veil drawn down. She raises a procedural question with the priest: whether to ask for her consent or her identity card first. However, it is at nursery school, in February, that the rule is taken to extremes. If a child refuses to wear a cardboard mask for the Carnival party and the teacher insists on making them wear it, this constitutes ‘abuse of authority’ over a minor, with the penalty increased by a third as provided for in Article 5(c). In short, a child’s tantrum – which has always been the bane of teachers’ lives – becomes, for the first time, a right protected by the Criminal Code. Fortunately, the law is not yet in force, because next Saturday is Halloween. Go about your business with peace of mind. Nobody, of course, wanted any of this. It happened because of the carefree haste with which offences are now concocted, just as slogans are concocted. Kelany has been taking his bill around Italy for months, from Palermo to Viterbo, collecting signatures for a petition, whilst in the Chamber of Deputies the Constitutional Affairs Committee – which has had the text on its table since January – is summoning law professors, who in all likelihood have already spotted its flaws and smiled at them. If that is not the case, brace yourselves. The 2027 Carnival could well be the first one we celebrate in plain clothes.