The relation which binds the inhabitants of Assisi to the Basilica and Convent of St. Francis is less obvious than one might, from the outside, be lead to believe. Respect, devotion, admiration, gratitude, are certainly words which help to define this relation, without, however, describing it completely. But they are also words which have hidden in them an affirmation of a certain distance, of a distinctness of identity no less benevolent than it is decisive. This all becomes evident when one compares the feeling which unites Assisians to their Duomo, San Rufino, and to other beautiful neighborhood churches, where for generations Assisians have gotten married, baptized their children, celebrated the funerals of their beloved ones: a relationship intimate, family-like, of collective property, almost, in which the sacred edifice seems almost to become, first, a hub of necessary private and public relations, and only afterwords, a place in which mass is celebrated. The Basilica of St. Francis is quite another thing, and playing on the fact, in colloquial speech, this monumental complex becomes confused with its saint, one would almost be inclined to establish a parallel distance, similar to that which inevitably existed between the 13th-century city and her most famous son: for Assisi was hostile first, then suspicious, then again cordial and friendly and, finally, enthusiastically devout --distant always nonetheless, as is appropriate between sinners and a saint (even if the saint would not have it so). In short, a close, but not too close, relationship. Sifting through our little city's history, there are many illuminating examples of this, but the clearest certainly we find in that handful of years, during the Middle Ages, in which Muzio di Francesco, former canon of Assisi's Cathedral, held sway over the city. The prelude is quickly told: on September 29, 1319, Assisi, until then on the Guelph side, became Ghibelline. Those least happy about this course of events were Assisi's perennial and potent rival Perugia, ardently Guelph and committed to an aggressive policy of territorial expansion, and the most Guelph of all, Pope John XXII, who had been forced, however, into exile in Avignon. Immediately Muzio, strong thanks to his alliances with Count Federico da Montefelto and with Guido Tarlati, Bishop of Assisi, heads of the Ghibelline party in Central Italy, began to plague the Guelphs: first Spoleto and then Nocera, too, were conquered, thanks to the help of the Assisians, and enlisted in the Ghibelline cause. And since war requires money, Muzio had the forethought to look for funds where he was sure to find them: in the treasury of the Convent of St. Francis. He drew on these funds on several occasions. First in October of 1319, it fell to the lot of Assisi and Nocera dioceses' tithes, a sum of no less than 16,000 Cortonian lire; but in subsequent months, is was the papal treasure's turn, imprudently transferred to Assisi from Peruiga around 1312, as well as the personal possessions of various cardinals and finally, precious objects which belonged to the Church of St. Francis. The affair was, to say the least, shocking, unheard of, unthinkable; nonetheless, the Pope's reiterated protests were sent promptly back to him, and Perugia's mobilization of an army which, in fact, damaged Assisi, merely increased military expenditures and, as a result, Muzio's confiscation and sale of precious objects. After several threats, in March of 1320, Pope John XXII decided to subject the rebellious Assisi to his interdict, thus forbidding the celebration of any religious ceremonies in the city; his aim was to put pressure on the people of Assisi and, at the same time, to authorize every sort of reprisal taken against a city by now to be suspected of heresy. This was Muzio's answer: he made sure that news of the interdict did not reach Assisi, going so far as to have the two brothers minor, the Pope's messengers, arrested at the city's gates, beaten, and forced to eat the letter and wash it down with their own urine. In the mean time, in September, 1320, Perugia's army managed to conquer the castle of Bastia, destroy it, and taking advantage of the situation, to convey the body of the Blessed Corrado da Offida, until then preserved in the minorite Church of the Holy Cross, to Perugia. This gave rise to one of the Assisians' greatest and most ancient fears, that is that the Perugians, as soon as they got the chance, would steal and translate to Perugia the very body of Sty. Francis himself, which was conserved (at that time still accessibly) below the high altar of the church, a fear which gave weight, too, to one of the arguments Muzio had already used to convince both friars and the more hesitant of the Assisians of the necessity of preventing, at any cost, a Perugian victory. Nonetheless, Perugia had her victory, on March 28th, 1322, and not without serious damage to Assisi. The consequences, in fact, were felt for a long time: they meant, on the one hand. the knocking down of part of the city walls, and the city's humiliating political subjection to Perugia ( despite an occasional proud moment) for more than 40 years; on the other hand, neither John XXII nor his successors were willing to be appeased by the apologies of the Guelphs who returned finally from exile to Assisi; the popes continued (and concretely) to demand the restoration of what had been improperly taken. As a result, the interdict on Assisi persisted until 1352, when a transaction between Pope Clement VI and the Comune of Assisi established an indemnity of 10,000 gold florins. As for Muzio di Francesco, who had gone off into exile with a few faithful followers, first to Todi, then to Arezzo, he was subjected to a long process of inquisition in which accusations of necromancy mingled with those of sacred theft and rebellion against papal authority, and he ended up being condemned in absentia as a heretic in 1326. If any one should wish to know more about this interesting affair, he need only consult Stefano Brugani's praiseworthy book "A Rebel's Heresy in the Time of John XXII: the case of Muzio di Francesco," published in 1989 by The New Italy: he will have, among other things, the pleasant surprise of finding here the transcript of the entire trial and of the testimonies given during it by the citizens of Assisi.

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