Ester Goffi, an environmental activist with Last Generation Italy, never expected her protest at the Vatican Museums would lead to a protracted legal battle.
In 2022, she and another activist glued their hands to the marble base of the Laocoön and His Sons, one of the world’s most renowned ancient sculptures. Their goal was to raise awareness of the climate crisis.
A trained art curator, Goffi says she carefully chose where to apply the adhesive, aiming to preserve the work’s integrity. The base, which is about a century old, is not part of the original sculpture.
Vatican authorities have taken a much different view. They sought over €30,000 in damages, including €25,000 for alleged loss of intrinsic value to the artwork.
Goffi is waiting on her next appeal, from the Court of Cassation — the Vatican’s supreme court. Earlier instances have found her guilty of aggravated damage, sentencing her to nine months in prison with a suspended sentence.
"We didn't think the consequences would be so big. We expected to get a fine," says Goffi.
The prosecution's case centres on the argument that the cyanoacrylate glue, though removable with acetone, caused significant damage. A restoration manager testified that the affected areas showed signs of "whitening and corrosion," requiring a week of restoration work.
Goffi disputes these claims, noting that no concrete evidence of damage – such as photographs or detailed assessments – was presented in court.
"I wouldn't do it again," she told The Parliament, saying that the legal proceedings have taken an emotional toll.
Zero tolerance for environmental protest
In courtrooms across Europe, a new kind of struggle is unfolding. Climate activists who made headlines by glueing themselves to priceless works of art face unprecedented backlash. Some governments are turning to criminal statutes normally reserved for organised crime.
European and other Western countries have gone hard against environmental groups. In the United Kingdom alone, authorities have made 7,000 arrests since 2019, according to Global Witness, an NGO that investigates environmental and human rights abuses
In the eastern German state of Saxony, activist Maike Grunt faces a €5,500 fine for lost ticket revenue after glueing herself to Raphael's Sistine Madonna in the Dresden Museum. If she doesn't pay voluntarily, the amount will be automatically withdrawn from her bank account.
Grunt also faces smaller fines, ranging from €80 to €340, to compensate for police work to carry her away and hold her in custody during protests.
The cases against Goffi and Grunt, alongside many others, represent a broader crackdown on environmental activism across the European Union. This has had a chilling effect on protest and shrunk the space for disruptive activism.
In 2023, CIVICUS Monitor, a global network of civil society organisations, downgraded Germany's civic space rating from "open" to "narrowed."
"One of the primary reasons why Germany was downgraded was the increased repression against climate protesters,” Tara Petrovic, a Europe and Central Asia researcher at CIVICUS Monitor, told The Parliament. “Specifically the crackdown on nonviolent civil disobedience by movements such as Last Generation."
The classification indicates that the government no longer fully protects freedom of expression, assembly and association. France and Italy also find themselves in the "narrowed “ category.
German authorities have turned to Paragraph 129 of the German Penal Code. Often used against organised crime, the law views organizations as criminal by definition, allowing for harsher penalties against their members.
“Its broad wording arguably allows it to be applied to various organisations, claiming that they were formed to commit crimes,” Benedikt, a representative from RAZ, a German nonprofit that assists activists with pro-bono legal representation, told The Parliament.
His full name has been withheld due to personal safety concerns.
Three cases against Last Generation activists are underway across Germany using Paragraph 129. In Neuruppin, a town north of Berlin, five members have been charged with founding a radical subgroup of Last Generation.
While these cases are being held at the state level, the German federal government has backed these firm measures. Olaf Scholz, the outgoing chancellor, has called these kinds of protests “completely nutty.”
"The chancellor made it clear early on that the means of protest chosen by Last Generation must be rejected," a government spokesperson told The Parliament.
Scholz's likely successor, the conservative leader Friedrich Merz, is unlikely to express anything different. He ran on hardline law-and-order policies.
NGOs: Violations of European law
Italy has also taken an aggressive stance, too. An eco-vandals law, introduced in early 2024, raises fines for defacing monuments to a maximum of €60,000.
In France, law enforcement has ramped up surveillance of environmental activists. Tactics include mass profiling, drone surveillance and algorithmic cameras, according to La Quadrature du Net, a French digital rights advocacy group.
"The French state's substantial surveillance and the absence of a very precise legal framework make it possible for the government to collect an enormous amount of information on many people,” Noemie Levain, a privacy and technology lawyer and member of the group, told The Parliament.
Human rights organisations are similarly alarmed. Amnesty International Germany has called these measures human rights violations and an infringement of fundamental rights.
“These measures create a massive chilling effect," Sam Nadel, the interim director of the Social Change Lab, a research nonprofit, told The Parliament. "One of the core powers of social movements — the ability to credibly claim they are speaking on behalf of the majority — effectively disappears."
While defending themselves in the court of law, activists must also contend with the court of public opinion.
A 2023 online poll conducted with 5,000 participants by German news outlet, Der Spiegel, showed that 79% of Germans opposed Last Generation's disruptive tactics, which the survey framed as a kind of “radicalisation.”
In France, a survey from the same year published by the conservative Le Figaro newspaper showed 73% disapproval. That figure rose to 88% when it came to “vandalising” artworks.
"We were surprised to find that even young people and those with strong environmental beliefs disapproved of disruptive actions," Aseem Prakash, a political science professor at the University of Washington, in the United States, told The Parliament.
In a study focused on the United Kingdom, he concluded that one source of public discontent may stem from the view that these protests are “niche,” with only a “small number of participants involved.”
Sophia Hunger, a social science researcher at the University of Bremen, in northern Germany, said the media's portrayal of activists as "privileged young people detached from normal life" is a mischaracterisation that ignores their diverse backgrounds.
The negative image of environmental activists, however, does not seem to impact public support for the policies they are advocating. Hunger’s research has so far been unable to establish a link between the two. Other efforts have been inconclusive.
Evolving Strategy
If there is a link, at least anecdotally, it is the toll that the legal pressure and public antipathy have taken on the activists in question. Some find themselves on the brink of financial and emotional collapse, putting their commitment in doubt.
Benjamin, a former German Last Generation activist who requested his full name be withheld for personal safety concerns, faces penalties for a protest at the Barberini Museum in Potsdam. Waiting for the gavel to come down on him is a “heavy burden,” he told The Parliament.
In Italy, Simone Ficicchia of Last Generation Italy faces severe repercussions for painting the façade of Italy's Ministry of Ecological Transition in Rome in 2022. In addition to fines and police surveillance, he has been hit with city-specific travel bans.
The ban, known as foglio di via, is an administrative order that restricts movement without requiring a criminal conviction. It can last up to three years and is often used against those deemed potential threats to public order.
For Ficicchia, it applies to 13 Italian cities, including Rome, a consequence he told The Parliament is "psychologically exhausting.” The ongoing legal and financial pressure has left him living with constant anxiety, he said.
The mounting legal pressures and public disapproval have forced Europe’s environmental movements to adapt. Instead of one-off shock events like defacing historical works of art, activists are turning increasingly to mass street assemblies and more selective targeting, such as airports and other sites with clearer connections to the climate crisis.
In August 2024, for instance, Last Generation Germany activists glued themselves to airport tarmacs in Berlin, Cologne-Bonn and Nuremberg, forcing a temporary halt to flights. They also joined other environmental movements in December, for a campaign against the gas lobby.
Whether disruptive museum protests remain a tool of protest remains an open question for these groups. They have to balance the risks with the benefits.
"It's embedded in the nature of disruptive protests that they can only last so long,” Nadel, from the Social Change Lab, said. “They are informally networked and depend on the unpaid labour and emotional commitment of activists that can only act so long.”
Raluca Besliu reported from Berlin. Leonardo Delfanti reported from Verona, Italy. Eve Tsirigotaki reported from Toulouse, France.
This investigation was supported by a grant from the IJ4EU fund. The International Press Institute (IPI), the European Journalism Centre (EJC) and any other partners in the IJ4EU fund are not responsible for the content published and any use made out of it.
The Parliament Magazine is not affiliated with IJ4EU. The funding directly supports the journalists who contributed the story.