Licio Gelli and the referendum: Why the Venerable Master's ghost continues to divide Italy

Anyone who frequents the corridors of power in Rome knows it well: there are ghosts that just never leave. And among them, the most cumbersome, the most elegant, the most elusive, will always be him: Licio Gelli. The Venerable Master of the P2 Masonic Lodge isn't just a closed chapter of national history tucked away in textbooks. Today, in March 2026, just days out from the justice referendum, his name has once again become a wild card in the public debate. And it's not about posthumous tributes, but an uncomfortable truth: the 'Plan for Democratic Renewal', that document which dreamt of rewriting the state's rules, seems to have become, for many, a prophecy.

The son, the minister, and the 'copyright' of history

It all started with an interview that did the rounds on the talk shows. Maurizio Gelli, Licio's son, with a calmness that sent a chill down many spines, explained that his father would have looked with extreme favour upon the current reform of the judiciary. "My father was forward-thinking," he declared, sparking the ire of the No campaign. Marco Travaglio, during his presentations, was scathing: this is a reform that has the Venerable Master himself as its "noble father". And Giuseppe Conte, now used to wielding the populist stamp, doubled down, talking about Licio Gelli having 'copyright' over the entire referendum framework.

But the issue is more subtle than a simple name-drop. Because on the other side, the minister Carlo Nordio, with that Venetian inquisitor's coolness, had already given as good as he got: if an idea is right, it doesn't matter who thought of it first. "I don't see why you shouldn't follow a correct opinion just because he expressed it," he repeated on several occasions, sparking an uproar. And therein lies the rub. Because while it's true that the separation of careers was indeed a point in the Plan, anyone who has read that document knows it was part of a very different context: the public prosecutor was to fall under the executive, and the CSM (High Council of the Judiciary) was to answer to Parliament. That's a fair difference, one which, however, gets systematically swept away in the vortex of political polemic.

The toxic legacy of an anniversary

We live in a strange time, where anniversaries pile up on top of each other. These weeks, there's a lot of talk about Anniversaries: The Italy of Licio Gelli, almost as if trying to come to terms with a country that no longer exists. But the truth is, Gelli's Italy, the one of secret plots, rogue intelligence agencies and shady fixers, never really disappeared. It just evolved. Today, while the centre-left rends its garments evoking the spectre of P2 to stop the vote, there are those, like the League's frontman in Castelfiorentino, who urge sticking to the merits, avoiding "ideological positions."

Yet, the Venerable Master's shadow is so long that even Nino Di Matteo, at a rally, had to admit the game is dirty: "The mafiosi will vote Yes," he said, causing an uproar, but adding they'd do so because they feel legitimised by those who want to put a leash on magistrates. Heavy words, which prompted the Quirinal Palace to urge everyone to lower the temperature. But the damage is done by now. The referendum is no longer just about justice: it's a referendum on who has the right to tell the story of this country.

The business behind the myth

And here we get to the point that interests us analysts the most. Outside the courtrooms and the talk shows, there's a buzzing market. Sales of essays analysing the phenomenon, like those in the Myths in Poetry - Licio Gelli - Laterza Giuseppe Edizioni series, are literally exploding. Gelli's figure, now mainstream as the archetype of "shadow power," sells. It sells books, it sells investigations, it sells clicks. And it also sells a certain idea of 'guarantorist' rebellion which, paradoxically, fuels both sides.

For those investing in political communication, the lesson is clear:

• Symbolic narrative trumps technical detail: Evoking Gelli or the P2 triggers an immediate emotional response that no data on trial speeds could ever match.
• Polarisation is an annuity: The tougher the clash, the more advertising space and newspaper subscriptions are sold. The "Gelli case" is the perfect mud-slinging machine, but it's also the perfect cash machine.
• Short memory is an asset: Few remember the details of the 'Plan for Democratic Renewal', but everyone remembers the word "P2". That's all it takes to swing votes and create factions.

Looking beyond next voting Sunday, I expect that, regardless of the outcome, this referendum round will mark a turning point. For the first time in decades, the ghost of Licio Gelli has been conjured not as an archaeological relic, but as an active protagonist in the political debate. Whether Yes or No wins, the right or the left, one thing is certain: the Venerable Master, first from his exile in South America and then from the grave, has won his most important battle: still being, years later, the lynchpin of Italian public debate. And in a country that never comes to terms with its past, that, heaven forbid, is hardly news.