...my treasures do not sparkle they clink,
they shine in the sun and neigh in the night...

 

 

Palio di Fucecchio, a donation for the winning horse. It's nothing but hypocrisy

19/05/2026

The barbareschi of the twelve contrade of the Palio di Fucecchio — the Tuscan palio scheduled for 24 May 2026 — have announced an initiative they describe as carrying "strong symbolic and human value": promoting a donation for the winning horse, to "recognise the animal's merit" and "concretely support its wellbeing even after the competition."

The statement issued by the barbareschi claims the image of attentive and passionate guardians, expert figures who accompany the animals throughout the entire process of preparation and racing. Donating, the communiqué reads, "means actively participating in a tradition that evolves, keeping its roots alive while looking responsibly to the present." Supporting the winning horse "is not merely an act of generosity: it is an act of love toward one of the most authentic symbols of our culture."

These are well-crafted words. But they are only words.

The problem is not what happens afterwards

The horse that receives a donation after the Palio di Fucecchio is, at best, the beneficiary of a gesture that serves those who make it more than it serves him. It serves to construct a public image of sensitivity. It serves to pre-emptively respond to criticism from animal protection organisations. It serves to "evolve the tradition" without changing anything the tradition actually entails.

But the wellbeing of a horse used in a palio is not measured solely by what happens after the race. It is measured by what happens before and during. It is measured in the intensity of the training to which the horse is subjected, in the psychophysical pressure of preparation, in the stress of the race, in the concrete risk of falls and injuries that any equestrian race involves.

A post-race donation does not reduce these risks by a single millimetre. It does not change the conditions of detention during preparation. It introduces no verifiable welfare criteria. It makes no provision for independent veterinary checks before, during and after the event. It is a symbolic gesture in a context that demands concrete responses.

The hypocrisy of selective protection

There is a precise mechanism at work here, one that IHP knows well and that is worth naming: selective protection. It is applied to the winning horse — the one who brought glory to the contrada, the one at the centre of media attention — and appeals carefully to the collective conscience. But it is not applied to the other horses used in the race.

The fate of horses deemed unsuitable for the race — after the various selection rounds and trials — and of horses that do not win is almost never known. Exactly as happens with the Palio di Siena, through which more than 150 horses pass every year, with the whereabouts of a large proportion never accounted for, yet where a showcase so-called pensionario has been set up to house fewer than ten horses: useless for any concrete purpose but functional as a facade of care for the palio's horses.

Nothing addresses the real issues surrounding the use of animals in competitive equestrian events. There is no answer to the fundamental question: are these competitive races compatible with respect for a horse's physical and ethological needs?

IHP's answer is no. Not because traditions have no value — they do, and the cultural rootedness of the Palio di Fucecchio in its community is real. But because the cultural value of a tradition cannot permanently override respect for the animals that tradition uses as protagonists. This is a hierarchy of values that Italian society is slowly reconsidering, as demonstrated by the ongoing parliamentary process on the proposed law to recognise equids as companion animals.