Three Egyptian police officers have been convicted of Regeni’s murder. But the truth is quite different

The Italian judiciary has gone to great lengths to reach a verdict, bending the rules of the trial in order to bring it to a conclusion. The result has been a thoroughly anomalous trial, featuring absent defendants (it is not known whether they are alive or dead), surreal testimony and a compromised right to a fair trial.

28 SEP 26
Last updated: 18:02
Translated by AI
Image of Three Egyptian police officers have been convicted of Regeni’s murder. But the truth is quite different

Judge Simona Calegari, whilst reading out the verdict in the Regeni trial (Ansa/Massimo Percossi)

The ten-year prison sentence handed down to three Egyptian intelligence officers for the murder of Giulio Regeni (Uhsam Helmi, Athar Kamel Mohamed Ibrahim and Magdi Ibrahim Abdelal Sharif) and the acquittal of the fourth defendant, General Tariq Sabir, bring to a close a trial in which, from the outset, the Italian judiciary sought by every means to reach a verdict, progressively bending the rules of the trial in order to proceed with it. It remains to be seen what ‘truth’ a trial constructed in this way can possibly yield. The four defendants were not present, had not appointed lawyers of their own choosing, and it had not been possible to serve them with the court documents. A ruling by the Constitutional Court – the content of which was rather questionable – was required to allow the trial to begin. Since then, the proceedings have unfolded in a manner that is anything but ordinary.
The four defendants have never appeared before the court; it is not even known whether they are alive, where they are, or whether they have ever been informed of the trial. The witnesses have been protected and identified by letters of the Greek alphabet (Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta) and, in the majority of cases, have refused to come to court to give evidence, citing risks to their own safety. The court-appointed defence lawyers were forced to defend people they had never been able to meet; they were unable to call witnesses, conduct proper cross-examinations or produce any further transcripts other than those already contained in the prosecution’s file.
However, the prosecution’s case, based on statements from witnesses of dubious credibility, reveals the weakest points. For example, witness Delta, one of the few to have given evidence directly in court, stated that he had been arrested on 25 January 2016, that he had met Regeni at the Dokki police station and that he had then heard him being tortured. Delta claimed to have been put in a car with Regeni in the early afternoon, but according to all accounts, the Italian researcher actually disappeared in the late afternoon. Delta also said he had passed through Tahrir Square that morning and found it in its usual state, even though at the time the square was heavily guarded by large numbers of army personnel to prevent protests.
Then there is Gamma, the witness on whom the prosecution has built one of the most important parts of its case: Sharif’s alleged confession. The circumstances in which he is said to have obtained that confession are in themselves surreal: in 2017, in a restaurant in Nairobi, Gamma is said to have overheard a conversation coming from Sharif’s table by chance, without taking part in it or recording it. Yet, according to his account, from that conversation he is said to have gleaned a series of very precise statements about Regeni’s fate: ‘We cut him to pieces’, ‘we destroyed him’.
Then there are the two former Palestinian prisoners, presented as eyewitnesses to the torture suffered by Regeni. Here too, however, the trial takes on a questionable nature. The two never appeared before the court and were never questioned by the defence lawyers: speaking on their behalf were two videos, taken from an Al Jazeera documentary and shown in court in November 2024. In the footage, they recount seeing Giulio blindfolded and handcuffed, exhausted after the interrogations and carried into his cell on the shoulders of his jailers. Yet the court was never able to ask them a single question, nor was the defence able to challenge a single one of their answers. Their statements thus entered the trial as a done deal.
The same applies to Witness Z, who reported a conversation from which the alleged cover-up regarding Regeni’s passport allegedly emerged: Giulio’s documents were reportedly taken to the home of the men killed on 24 March 2016 in order to pin the blame for the abduction and murder on them. Witness Z also did not give evidence at the hearing, stating that he feared for his safety. In this case too, the judges admitted the statements he had made during the investigation.
In short, we have witnessed an extraordinary trial, not because the outcome of the proceedings is extraordinary, but because the way in which the verdict was reached is extraordinary.
Giulio Regeni’s death demands clarity, but a verdict does not equate to the truth simply because it comes after eleven years of investigations. The conviction of the three Egyptian officers is not enough to transform into truth a reconstruction that this trial has pieced together bit by bit, overcoming the absence of the defendants, circumventing the impossibility of hearing certain witnesses and relying, at crucial junctures, on evidence that is anything but solid. The Italian judiciary sought a verdict, and it has delivered one. The question is whether, alongside the verdict, the truth has also emerged. Doubting this remains legitimate.