“Our stance has always been not to shelve the case,” Verini begins, speaking to Il Foglio. “Yet, several months ago, when the public prosecutor’s office made the request, it did so by emphasising a clear point: that evening, an act of war took place; there were allied aircraft that carried out an unauthorised manoeuvre in Italian airspace, causing the aircraft to crash; since France is not cooperating – and this is the investigators’ key argument – we found ourselves forced to request that the case be dismissed. This request itself contained a key justification: there is a lack of evidence to proceed, whilst acknowledging the act of war. It was Cossiga who, back in 2008, was the first to admit the responsibility of the French aircraft tracking the Libyan MiG in which Gaddafi was due to travel – having been warned in good time not to fly on that aircraft. Then, fifteen years later, came that famous interview with Giuliano Amato, who told La Repubblica: ‘France must speak out and say what it knows’. Two former prime ministers who urged the Rome Public Prosecutor’s Office to issue a letter of request to France.”

Yet it would have come to nothing once again, were it not for ‘the pressure from so many people calling for the facts to be formally and unequivocally established’, continues Verini, highlighting the active role played by Daria Bonfietti: a former senator for the DS, co-founder of the association of relatives of the victims of the Ustica air disaster and sister of Alberto, who died in the disaster. “A couple of months ago, the Antibes summit was scheduled. At that point, Bonfietti launched an appeal, realising it would be an important direct opportunity: I took some discreet steps with the Prime Minister, on behalf of the MPs who have been following the case for some time. After the Strait of Hormuz, after the tariffs, Meloni could have raised the issue with Macron. A bilateral meeting offers the right degree of flexibility to do so effectively. And so Meloni did just that: on 27 June, the anniversary of the massacre, she informed both me and Bonfietti. Through Mantovano”, the Under-Secretary to the Prime Minister’s Office, “she also urged the public prosecutor’s office to oppose the case being dropped. We were aware of Macron’s simultaneous overture, but in agreement with Meloni we felt it appropriate to keep the information confidential. Until today.”

It took the combined efforts of all the institutions, regardless of political affiliation. “I have been following the Ustica case since ’96, when I was chief of staff to the then minister Walter Veltroni,” explains the Democratic Party official. “It was he who introduced me to Bonfietti and tasked me with handling this case. NATO began cooperating even back then, but always within certain limits. And so did other Italian governments. Today, Meloni’s role in this affair must be acknowledged: the other day, Bonfietti rang her to thank her. And Mattarella’s efforts must also be remembered, as they have always been of great institutional significance. On certain issues, we go beyond party politics. It is right that this should be the case – not to mention that Meloni and the right have always been inclined to support the air battle theory. In this case, the Prime Minister did what she had to do, spurred on by us MPs and by Macron’s encouraging input. Sometimes perseverance does yield results. So far, there have only been suspicious suicides, a great deal of opacity and attempts to throw the investigation off track. But the only thing that is certain is that, on that evening 46 years ago, all the radar stations were silenced. And that 81 people died.”

The documents made available cover a long period, stretching back to the early 1990s, and are said to include those from the French Ministry of Defence as well as computer files. In the note from the French Embassy sent to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and forwarded via the Prime Minister’s Office to the Ministry of Justice and, in turn, to the Public Prosecutor’s Office in Rome, the French Embassy also states its willingness to comply with any further requests should they arise. 

Today’s decision comes after decades of unanswered requests and unfulfilled letters rogatory dating back to the 1990s. The investigating office at Piazzale Clodio will today produce a substantial body of documentation covering the period from 1981 to 1994, drawing also on old requests for international judicial cooperation. Among the materials to be provided to the Roman public prosecutors are the radar tracks from the hours during which the tragedy occurred, the routes of the aircraft carriers Clemenceau and Foch, the flight plans of military aircraft bound for Libyan territory, and the controversial track known as LL004, intercepted at the time by the Poggio Ballone station near the Sardinian military airbase at Solenzara.

“The Constitutional Court,” explains lawyer Sarno, “has established a rule stipulating that, in this specific case, the defendant may be tried even without proof that they have been summoned to court. Given that this is a unique case, we will ask the Constitutional Court whether, at least in this instance, the provision preventing a court-appointed defence lawyer from appealing the judgement – unless they hold a special power of attorney from the defendant – is also unconstitutional.”

In short, the defence teams are preparing to put forward their case in the face of a judgement handed down at the end of a trial “marked by a blatant undermining of the right to a defence”. As we highlighted yesterday, in fact, the court-appointed defence lawyers for the Egyptian officers were forced to defend individuals they had never been able to meet (it is not known whether they are still alive or dead); they were unable to call witnesses, conduct proper cross-examinations, or produce any further statements other than those already contained in the prosecution’s file. Ultimately, the Rome Assize Court handed down a verdict that satisfies and dissatisfies everyone at the same time. Three out of four defendants were in fact convicted, but received ten-year sentences rather than the severe penalties sought by the prosecution (one life sentence and 17 and a half years). Above all, the judges recognised only the offence of unlawful detention, but not those of causing bodily harm and murder, nor the aggravating circumstances put forward by the public prosecutors. For this reason, the Rome Public Prosecutor’s Office will also await the publication of the grounds for the judgement before deciding whether to appeal the verdict.

In the meantime, however, new scenarios are emerging. Firstly, the expungement of offences relating to murder, bodily harm and certain aggravating circumstances of unlawful detention raises the real risk that the limitation periods may come into effect (which is not the case for murder): for unlawful detention committed by public officials, the limitation period is 10 years, which increases to 12 and a half years due to the one-quarter extension resulting from acts that interrupt the limitation period. In other words, the offence of ‘simple’ kidnapping could become time-barred in August 2028: it is difficult to imagine that an appeal trial could be held by that date.

The second issue, which is technical in nature but even more significant in substance, concerns the very possibility of continuing with the trial. In order for the trial to begin, a 2023 ruling by the Constitutional Court was required, establishing that for offences comparable to torture (which at the time were not yet provided for in our legal system), the trial may proceed in the absence of the defendant even where it is not possible to prove that they were aware of the proceedings, if this is due to a lack of cooperation from their home state. But now that the offence of bodily harm and the aggravating circumstances (such as ill-treatment and cruelty) which could have made the offences equivalent to torture have been removed, can the trial still be considered legitimate?

Another sensitive issue concerns the provisional enforcement orders granted by the Assize Court in favour of the civil parties for a total of 650,000 euros, of which 150,000 euros is in favour of the Prime Minister’s Office. Some have argued that, given the defendants’ unavailability, the Italian government will have to claim the sum from Cairo, thereby creating a diplomatic issue. In reality, the compensation is to be paid by the three convicted defendants, not by Egypt. To make Egypt liable for the compensation, a further ruling by a civil court would be required.

Ermes Antonucci

The latest case to galvanise the Stasi faction concerned the famous statement issued two days ago by the Pavia Public Prosecutor’s Office. The Pavia Public Prosecutor’s Office has closed new investigations into Sempio. In filing the new documents, it reported on a number of findings. Among these, it highlighted that the raw data from the RIS Carabinieri unit contains a detail that has been overlooked in recent years, relating to the existence of two analyses which indicate that no DNA attributable to Chiara Poggi was found on the material taken from the pedals of Stasi’s bicycle. This is, in fact, one of the most important pieces of evidence pointing to Stasi’s guilt. The statement from the Pavia Public Prosecutor’s Office alludes to some sort of underhand cover-up. And the prosecutor’s suspicion was promptly transformed yesterday into an established fact: according to the interpretation given by many newspapers, the Carabinieri criminally concealed those findings solely to frame Stasi, and with that evidence it would have been possible to exonerate Chiara Poggi’s former boyfriend as long as nineteen years ago.

The distortion is clear: an argument put forward by Stasi’s defence team, taken up and emphasised by the prosecutors investigating Sempio, finds its way into a press release from the Pavia Public Prosecutor’s Office and, by virtue of the authority of the source from which it originates, that partial truth becomes a certified truth. The truth is partial not only because it is a biased truth but because, on careful reading of the documents, one can easily discover (a) that the analyses in question were not hidden away in a drawer, as claimed by those who challenge the prosecutor’s office’s version, but were available to the parties; and that (b) whilst there were negative results regarding the presence of Chiara Poggi’s DNA on the famous pedals, there are three positive results (one partial with six markers and two complete with all markers) which demonstrate the presence of Chiara Poggi’s DNA on the pedals of Stasi’s bicycle. Some findings were given weight, whilst others were not. This analysis is not intended to enter into a reckless debate about who is innocent, who is guilty, who the real instigator is, or who is truly responsible for the murder.

We are writing all this to try to shed light on a small truth that deserves not to be lost in the debate amongst the fan bases: if one wishes to regard Stasi as a victim of a trial characterised by gaps, mysteries and uncertainties, one cannot apply the same methods of public shaming, lynching and condemnation to other individuals, such as Sempio, or to the RIS officers themselves, methods which we rightly ask not to be applied against Stasi. The Garlasco case has been there for nineteen years, showing us the worst of our judicial system. To avoid repeating the mistakes made over these nineteen years, it would suffice to go back to basics and perhaps remember that, in a state governed by the rule of law, evidence counts for more than insinuations; that the trial held in a courtroom counts for more than the one played out on the front pages of newspapers; and that a prosecution’s case does not become the truth simply because of a good newspaper headline. 

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.

The three convicted individuals have also been permanently barred from holding public office. The grounds for the judgement will be filed within 90 days. The three have also been ordered, jointly and severally, to pay compensation for pecuniary and non-pecuniary damages to the civil parties, to be determined in separate proceedings. The Court has awarded provisional payments, immediately enforceable, totalling 650,000 euros: 200,000 to Claudio Regeni, 200,000 to Paola Deffendi, 100,000 to Irene Regeni and 150,000 to the Presidency of the Council of Ministers. The first-instance judgement did not take into account the requests made by the prosecutor, Sergio Colaiocco, who had sought a life sentence for the first defendant and 17 years and 6 months for the second. The trial took place in the absence of the defendants, as it had not been possible to serve them with the notices of investigation and other procedural documents because they were ‘untraceable’. The authorities in Cairo refused to provide their home addresses to the Italian judiciary.

“Beyond the individual convictions, it is clear that the prosecution’s case has stood up to the Court’s scrutiny. We will need to read the grounds for the judgement. Now the government must also take note of this, claim the damages awarded by the State Legal Service and sever ties with a country which, far from being safe, tortures and kills even the citizens of so-called ‘friendly’ states.” This was stated by Giulio’s family’s lawyer, Alessandra Ballerini, as she left the courtroom after the verdict was read out.

The body of the 28-year-old researcher, who was in Egypt to conduct research into local trade unions, was found along the Cairo–Alexandria motorway on 3 February 2016, ten days after he went missing.

And yet. And yet, at some point, investigative journalism transformed – first gradually, then completely – into reporting on other people’s investigations: those of the public prosecutor’s offices at best; and those of the intelligence services thereafter. With no possibility of verification, no possibility of critical analysis, and a very high risk of unwittingly becoming conduits for misdirection. Anyone who has covered court cases has on their list the contact details of a few informants, a few shadowy sources, and ambiguous witnesses. These contacts must be handled with great caution, or not handled at all; at best, they should be treated like an anonymous letter—to be read and discarded if thorough verification is not possible. Yet at some point these sources gained the upper hand, and there is no other explanation for the proliferation of private agencies dealing in information gathered illegally—information that is not necessarily true, certainly biased—which then ends up in newspapers or on television programmes. To many, this even seemed like a positive development, given the proliferation of useless press releases – local news sections and small websites are full of them – which lack even the essential details (who, how, where, when, why) in the name of a theoretical presumption of innocence. Investigative bodies, in their official communications, must exercise restraint in their language and adopt a stylistic approach that acknowledges the partial nature of the news being disseminated; but journalists must ensure verification, conduct independent in-depth research, consult defence lawyers, listen to witnesses and, why not, refute details that are out of context or even incorrect. Sometimes it is enough to draw on one’s personal archives, at other times on one’s memory, and at still other times on professional curiosity.

An example? It is contained in the case files of the investigation into the attack on Sigfrido Ranucci: a bug we might call “Corrado”. It is a name that appears in the wiretaps between the perpetrators of the crime, and which was discussed for days. Until Domani revealed the mystery: Corrado does not exist; it is a transcription error. Well, any court reporter has come across similar errors, only discovered during the trial when an expert examined the telephone or ambient recordings. The transcript produced by the police officer (carabiniere, finance police officer) had already caused very serious damage – perhaps even the arrest of the suspect. And these are by no means rare cases; quite the contrary. ‘Corrado’ serves as a reminder that investigative material circulating prior to trials is raw material, to be used with great care and due objectivity. In short, it is not proof of a revealed truth.

Consider, for example, the investigation into the murder of Chiara Poggi and the audio recording of Alberto Stasi calling the emergency services: the legend of the cold, icy-eyed blond (whose eyes were, quite simply, light blue) arose from the interpretation of his tone of voice. The story of recent months will tell a different tale. In the meantime, the daily dissection of clues, photos, images, voice recordings and wiretaps has definitively destroyed any remaining faith in the justice system, leaving future generations with the disarming realisation that, as Besozzi put it in his headline, ‘the only thing that is certain is that he is dead’.

Rosaria Capacchione, a journalist, was born in Naples. In 2008, she published the investigative book "L’oro della camorra". Having received several death threats, she has been living under police protection ever since. From 2013 to 2018, she served as a senator, elected on the PD’s electoral lists.

As we noted here, Siciliano retired in December 2025. Shortly before that, she had led the investigations into town planning that had been rocking the political and economic life of Milan for three years.

In early summer, news emerged of her candidacy for deputy mayor on the ‘Milano Libera’ civic list, promoted by Massimiliano Lisa (owner of Leonardo3, a museum located in the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II), who will also be standing for election. “I can only say that it comes as no surprise,” commented the mayor of Milan, Beppe Sala, at the time.

The news, after all, had sparked considerable controversy. As Luigi Ferrarella of the Corriere wrote, as quoted here, the former deputy public prosecutor of Milan had accepted the political role with Lisa “despite knowing that she herself, in her capacity as head of the ‘crimes against the public administration’ task force in 2025, had assigned Lisa’s complaint to a prosecutor within the task force; and that she had made herself available for the candidacy without considering the inappropriateness of this, particularly in relation to her former office, which she knew was assessing Lisa’s complaint”. The continuation of the legal battle by other means.

Throughout her career, Siciliano has covered trials that have attracted significant media attention: from the Ruby case to the Santa Rita clinic case – dubbed the ‘clinic of horrors’ – to the 2018 Pioltello rail disaster, from the trial of Marco Cappato in the DJ Fabo case to the fire at the Casa per coniugi care home. “There are those who wanted to see this as the culmination of an ambition for a political career that already existed whilst I was still in the judiciary,” the former public prosecutor told the online newspaper. She opted to step down so as “not to drag the institution – of which I am honoured to have been a part for 40 years and to which I still feel, morally, that I belong – into unhealthy controversies”, and "to protect from any exploitation the work of those who continue to serve the public interest impartially, and in particular my colleagues at the Public Prosecutor’s Office who have worked with diligence and commitment".

In 2017, the Florence Public Prosecutor’s Office launched yet another investigation into Berlusconi and Dell’Utri, even suggesting that they were the external instigators of the Mafia massacres of 1993–1994. The prosecutors found no evidence to proceed, and the case was dropped. In December 2022, however, the prosecutors opened a new case, again against ‘Il Cavaliere’ and Dell’Utri, and again on the same charges. The case number is 16249/2022. This attempt, too, comes to nothing: in June 2026, the case is definitively dismissed due to a lack of evidence to support the theory that the Mafia massacres were orchestrated to further the political rise of Forza Italia in 1994.

Meanwhile, however, a second front has opened up. The public prosecutor’s office has launched an investigation into Baiardo on charges of slander against Giletti. Initially, Baiardo’s case was included within case 16249/2022. When that case was on the verge of being dismissed, the case against the former ice-cream vendor from Omegna was separated to proceed independently. This is where the first major procedural anomaly occurred: a huge volume of evidence gathered during the previous investigation was not included in the new case file against Baiardo. In fact, the statements of no fewer than 16 key witnesses (including Giovanni Brusca, Gaspare Spatuzza and Antonino Giuffrè) were excluded, as were the DIA reports following the searches carried out against Dell’Utri in July 2023 and the financial expert report commissioned by the public prosecutors on the origins of Fininvest and the flow of funds between Berlusconi and Dell’Utri.

At the preliminary hearing, Baiardo was committed for trial. Once the trial got underway, the prosecution made a move that was, to say the least, unusual: invoking Article 430 of the Code of Criminal Procedure, it requested and obtained authorisation from the court to submit the entire body of documents previously excluded as ‘supplementary investigation documents’. This manoeuvre raises an obvious issue regarding the right to a defence. Had Baiardo’s lawyers had full knowledge of that material from the outset, they could in fact have adopted a completely different strategic approach: considering alternative dispute resolution procedures, calling witnesses or tailoring the examination of the defendant differently.

Thus, during the hearings, witnesses questioned by the prosecution during the investigations take the stand, as do the technical experts tasked with drawing up the report in the now-dismissed case against Berlusconi and Dell’Utri. Why? No one knows. In this way, however, the prosecution manages to highlight the allegations made by individuals such as Brusca, Spatuzza and Giuffrè against Berlusconi, as well as the findings of the technical report. According to the report, of the nearly 17 billion lire that financed Fininvest between February 1977 and August 1978, approximately 13 billion are said to have arrived ‘in cash’ and ‘as the case stands, it is not possible to identify their origin’. The expert report then casts doubt on Berlusconi’s payments to Dell’Utri: the ‘evidence, taken as a whole, appears to suggest that the nature and purpose of the financial flows under scrutiny are difficult to reconcile with mere acts of generosity’, that is, with the explanation of ‘friendship’ provided by Berlusconi. The conclusions essentially say nothing (neither that the money came from the Mafia nor that Berlusconi and Dell’Utri had committed any offences), but this is enough for the militant anti-Mafia press to once again sling mud at ‘Il Cavaliere’.

In this context, what happened at the last hearing also takes on particular significance. As we reported in these pages, on 21 September the Florence Public Prosecutor’s Office summoned Giuseppe Graviano as a witness but failed to inform the court and the defence that the former Brancaccio boss had already been interviewed by prosecutors during the investigation, and also failed to file the relevant transcripts in the trial file. The Public Prosecutor’s Office referred to it as a ‘mistake’ and the court once again turned a blind eye. But this incident is the definitive sign of a much more general problem, one that directly affects the due process of the trial and the rights of the defence.

In reconstructing the background to the case, the Court notes that “in 2024, the Italian authorities rejected the applications submitted by Acciaierie d’Italia, Italy’s leading steel group, regarding its inclusion, for the year 2025, on the lists of enterprises with high electricity or gas consumption. Consequently, AdI did not benefit from the financial incentives provided for such companies”. The rejections – the text states – “were based on AdI being classified as a ‘company in difficulty’ within the meaning of the European Commission’s guidelines on state aid for the rescue of companies in difficulty, due to its being subject to the Italian regime of extraordinary administration and its state of insolvency”.

“Following appeals lodged against these refusals, the Italian administrative court referred to the Court of Justice the question of whether the exclusion of undertakings subject to special administration from access to the incentives provided for energy- or gas-intensive undertakings is compatible with EU law. The Court notes that, in adopting the Guidelines on rescue aid, the Commission deliberately limited its own discretion regarding the compatibility of State aid. Consequently, any derogation from those rules would constitute a breach of the general principles of law, in particular those of equal treatment and the protection of legitimate expectations”. The Court notes that “Italy has merely brought its legislation on State aid for energy into line with the requirements of the Commission’s guidelines on State aid for climate, the environment and energy, which specify that energy aid must not be granted to undertakings in difficulty within the meaning of the Guidelines on rescue aid”.

“A company placed under special administration is a company in difficulty within the meaning of EU law, in that such a regime constitutes insolvency proceedings subject to the prior determination of the insolvency of the company concerned, a matter which it is for the referring court to verify. The fact that the insolvency proceedings provided for by the legislation of the Member States are aimed at restoring the economic viability of the undertakings concerned does not call into question the fact that those undertakings are undertakings in difficulty within the meaning of the Guidelines on rescue aid”, the Court points out. "Furthermore, aid for the energy sector must not be confused with rescue aid, which pursues different objectives", adds the Court.

We asked Mr Todarello: in your view, what significance does this ruling – the first of its kind – hold within the broader context of issues relating to urban planning in Milan? “It is a very clear-cut ruling, which does not require much interpretation,” he told Il Foglio: “The judge has ruled in favour of the developers on every point. She has accepted all their arguments. In summary, the ruling states that, prior to 2024, they operated correctly, in accordance with the regulations. Subsequent rulings, two years ago, changed the situation.” Or rather, they muddied the waters. “Yes, in fact there have been various types of rulings, and now it’s a bit of a mess.” One thing, however, seems certain: there was no corruption, no abuse of power, nor any other offences of this kind. “Yes, that is undisputed. None of what has been written in many newspapers is true: the possibility of any corrupt practices has been categorically ruled out.” And this applies not only to the developers, but also to the local councillors involved. And what is the current situation regarding town planning in Milan? “From a town-planning perspective, and also in terms of the municipal administration’s activities, Milan is completely paralysed, at a complete standstill. Building permits are not being issued; indeed, they are being refused in a truly improper and specious manner, simply because there is a fear of taking any stance at all. More often still, however, nothing is done; we remain in a state of total deadlock, of total inaction. It is not just my view: this is stated in a ruling by the Regional Administrative Court (TAR), which went so far as to write that either the administration does what it is required to do, or it is prepared to appoint an ad acta commissioner”. This ruling dates from last August: a finding that the ‘stagnation’ of the Milan City Council is unlawful.

How do you think we can resolve this, lawyer? “With a national law that clarifies everything once and for all. Or rather: one that states that what is already perfectly clear is reaffirmed even for those who think otherwise. An authoritative interpretation.” What are the consequences of this administrative deadlock in the medium term? For example, is there a risk of legal action by developers against the local council? “There are already quite a few lawsuits and there will be more and more, with claims for damages against the local authority. But the real problem in the medium term is that a genuine shortage of new-build properties is developing. The mechanism for producing new homes in Milan has been at a standstill for at least five years, that is, since the investigations began. And there is no end in sight; the administrative machinery has ground to a halt. This means that before this machinery starts up again, we must assume it will take at least another three or four years. The consequence is that we will face a gap in new housing production of at least eight years, if not ten according to the most pessimistic estimates. Such a standstill in housing construction in Milan is not only driving away a substantial amount of foreign investment – running into billions – but also means that, given Milan’s continued ability to attract people, inevitably due to the principle of supply and demand, we will continue to see a massive rise in the prices of the existing housing stock and of the very few small-scale new-builds that manage to be completed.”

Graviano is connected via video link, ready to give evidence as a witness. Before the prosecutor, Lorenzo Gestri, begins his questioning, however, there is a surprise. Listening to the opening remarks made by the prosecutor when addressing Graviano, Riccardo Ventrella, Baiardo’s defence lawyer, realises that Graviano had already been interviewed by the Florence Public Prosecutor’s Office during the investigation. There are therefore transcripts of his statements, but those transcripts are not included in the file submitted by the prosecutor at the preliminary hearing. The defence had never been made aware of them.

The prosecutors deny this, claiming they have filed the minutes. A tragicomic episode ensues. The hearing is adjourned; the prosecutors go to the registry to check, then return to the courtroom and admit: the minutes do exist, but they were not included in the prosecution file. The presiding judge, Anna Favi, has it recorded in the minutes that, according to the prosecutor, it was a “mere oversight in the compilation of the prosecution file for the preliminary hearing”.

A mix-up which, fortunately, was discovered before Graviano took the stand. Because if Graviano had said something in court that differed from what he had stated during the investigation, the defence would not have been able to challenge him on anything. Without knowing his previous statements, the cross-examination would have started with one hand tied behind their back.

As a result, the major hearing with Graviano has been cancelled. The hearing has been postponed until 2 October. In the meantime, the defence will finally be able to read the minutes, which should already have been made available to them.

For months now, the Baiardo trial has provided a new opportunity to bring the issue of the alleged links between Berlusconi, Dell’Utri and Cosa Nostra back into the courtroom. Graviano has been presented as the key figure in potential new ‘revelations’, despite his credibility having been called into question in other court proceedings. And just as attention is focused on his words, the prosecution has neglected to include in the case file the statements made to the magistrates by Graviano – who, incidentally, is the only witness to have known Baiardo personally.

By focusing on yet another anti-Mafia spectacle staged for the cameras, the Florentine magistrates ended up overlooking the most important piece of evidence: the statement of the only witness who matters. More than a mere oversight, this is yet another example of how the pursuit of a major media story ends up diverting attention away from safeguarding due process.

The first point – and this will be the first allegation listed in the forthcoming investigation – concerns a complaint of the incorrect application of the regulations on urban ‘courtyards’. This is how the Deputy Public Prosecutor of Milan, Marina Petruzzella, first steps into the courtyard.

It begins in this curious way, with a window onto the courtyard, a crucial and symbolic legal saga, because the case of Piazza Aspromonte is the first of countless investigations, all following the same pattern, into Milan’s town planning; many led by the now-retired former assistant Tiziana Siciliano, who was subsequently rumoured to be standing for election to the City Council on a populist ticket, and many conducted by Petruzzella herself, famous for her fiery verbal style, both in speech and in the record of proceedings: it was she who coined media-friendly phrases such as ‘diabolical slipstreams’.

This is not the first trial, however. The first to reach a verdict (at first instance) concerned the investigation into the Torre Stresa case, also led by Petruzzella, who delivered a flamboyant closing speech: ‘Enormous abuse’, defendants who ‘relied on impunity… with utter contempt’, ‘an aberrant property development’. The result: eight out of eight acquitted, and the grounds for the judgement, recently published, tear to shreds not only the unfounded allegations of criminal offences but also the very methods of the prosecution.

Now it is the mother of all investigations, “Hidden Garden” in Piazza Aspromonte, which is heading for trial: the preliminary hearing is scheduled for 25 September, at which Investigating Judge Maria Beatrice Parati will decide whether to dismiss the case (will the Torre Stresa precedent count?) or to commit Andrea Bezzicchieri, owner of BlueStone – the company that carried out the project – and other co-defendants for trial. The investigation began in 2022; four years have passed that have shaken Milan to its core.

It doesn’t happen, but if it does… as football fans say. No one can predict the outcome of the preliminary hearing on 25 September; the Torre Stresa case and the judges’ dismantling of the corruption theories could prove decisive. But the Italian judiciary is not based on common law; it is a kaleidoscope of legal interpretations.

The story of Aspromonte, however, is worth telling for several reasons. Because it is the root of all the investigations. Because it perfectly illustrates the way public prosecutors operate and a more general, punitive ideology that pervades Milan. For the gradual construction of a new criminal offence – the ‘attack on urban planning democracy’, as the mountain of investigations following the Ambrosian ritual came to be defined at one point. And for the bizarre ‘courtyard’ issue.

It is worth starting with the courtyard, the tenant’s window overlooking the courtyard, and the public prosecutor who, one day in 2022, looked out onto the courtyard and had a vision of a series of investigations that would be devastating (for Milan) and potentially endless. A model to be replicated had been found.

On 13 July 2022, 31 months after work began on the building site, Mr Paghera lodged a complaint. He objected to the unauthorised construction in the courtyard, arguing that as the new building was over 25 metres high, it could not be built, and that ‘the local council should have approved an implementation plan’.

The building, dating from the 1960s and undergoing renovation, which had been purchased by Editrice Quadratum, originally comprised five storeys above ground, standing 16.14 metres high (the public prosecutor’s office claimed 12.24 metres); the renovation and reconstruction involved seven storeys above ground. Not exactly an ‘eyesore’, as was immediately claimed, having sprung up out of nowhere on a large green lawn, if one were to measure it properly. BlueStone had completed all the necessary paperwork and obtained a ‘building permit’ from the local council for the 25-metre-tall building. Other tenants, represented by lawyer Veronica Dini, joined the complaint. This is how the lawyers who regularly deal with property matters came to know Dini, who would subsequently become the point of reference for all appeals, complaints and committees investigating building regulations. On the basis of the complaint, on 14 October 2022 the public prosecutor’s office ordered the preventive seizure of the building site (preventive seizure is a hallmark of Milanese investigations: it has even led to the seizure of building sites that did not yet exist or had not yet been authorised). However, ten days later, on 24 October, the investigating judge did not agree with the charge based on the ‘urban planning courtyard’ and quashed the seizure. This was followed by a series of appeals and cross-appeals, until January 2024, when the Court of Cassation definitively rejected the precautionary seizure.

The issue of the ‘urban courtyard’ immediately highlights the complexity – and the uncertainty – of legal definitions and their application. In this respect, it is truly symbolic of the Milan case. The public prosecutor’s office, then as now, considers construction within a courtyard to be unauthorised. This stance persists despite the fact that the ‘building permit’ had been issued in 2019, following verification by the local authority, and that it complied with the provisions of the 2012 General Town Plan (PGT) in force at the time, as well as those of the new 2020 PGT, adopted in 2019. Furthermore, the local authority had already clarified the concept of a ‘courtyard’ as early as 2017.

So how do Public Prosecutor Petruzzella and the prosecution service go about proving that it is, in fact, a courtyard? An expert report is required. In fact, initially, it is sufficient to hear from a person with knowledge of the facts. The first person to be heard, in chronological order, is architect Patricio Eduardo Enriquez, on 28 September and 5 October 2022. Enriquez provides what he considers to be an unambiguous and incontrovertible definition of ‘courtyard’ (the definition of ‘urban planning courtyard’ has nothing to do with our common usage of the word; it is actually a technical legal term that is far from unambiguous). “It is, without a shadow of a doubt, a courtyard,” he states. However, a “genuine” expert is also required. Engineer Pietro Gianni is subsequently called in as a consultant and submits an initial technical report on 8 October 2022. It is on this basis that the public prosecutor’s office carries out the seizure which, as we have seen, the judges subsequently overturn. An incredible but instructive story.

Both of the public prosecutor’s consultants maintain that the area in Piazza Aspromonte is a courtyard. However, as will become clear, the judge hearing the appeal does not see it quite that way, partly on the basis that the expert reports submitted are not unsuitable. It is, of course, a legitimate and independent decision on the part of the public prosecutor leading the investigation, Ms Petruzzella, to appoint her own consultants. However, in light of the facts, it is also legitimate to ask why, of all the possibilities, Enriquez – the owner of a practice and, at times, a collaborator of lawyer Dini – was chosen. It turns out, in fact, that a year before being questioned as a ‘person with knowledge of the facts’, in March 2021, he had acted as a designer for a property just a few hundred metres from Piazza Aspromonte, characterised by similar town-planning issues: ‘Building replacement project for an internal section of a densely built-up block’. In short, a courtyard. Which Enriquez, however, considers legitimate. Is he a reliable expert? Fear not: Petruzzella chooses a genuine technical consultant, Engineer Pietro Gianni, who produces two expert reports.

It is regrettable that the Review Court, on 30 November 2022, in the order rejecting the seizure, wrote things that, if not serious, are at least astonishing and worth recounting, as they are indicative of a modus operandi. Regarding Enriquez, who declared ‘there is not a shadow of a doubt’ and levelled heavy criticism at the Landscape Commission that had granted approval, the Review Committee makes a number of observations. The judges write, with reference to the project “entirely analogous to that of BlueStone” on which the expert had worked, that in that case “Enriquez convincingly argued the opposite view to that put forward to the public prosecutor, namely that building within a block did not constitute building within a ‘courtyard’”. One particularly telling detail emerges: on that occasion Enriquez was not granted a ‘building permit’ – and this was precisely by members of the very same Landscape Commission that he heavily criticises in the BlueStone case – because that was indeed a courtyard. The judges are keen to clarify that the technical and legislative terms are highly complex, despite the newspapers already boldly running headlines such as ‘The “eco-monster” fiasco’. But above all: “The fact that, just a few months earlier, architect Enriquez had proposed to the municipal technical departments – in the interests of his own project – precisely that same interpretation of the term ‘internal courtyard’ which he has instead vehemently contested in the BlueStone case, undermines the credibility of his assessment on this matter… statements made, moreover, without any mention of his own professional ‘misadventure’ or the reasons that made him such an expert on the subject of ‘courtyards’ – reasons that might well have influenced him (out of rivalry towards the more successful competitor)”. As for the second consultant, Pietro Gianni, who had described the classification of the area as “undisputed” (“so evident and obvious that it is a courtyard’), the Review report states, however, that his CV “shows that his professional career has developed in the publishing and printing sector, which bears little relation to the subject matter of the proceedings”, raising the suspicion that he was not “even qualified” to deal with it. So why was he chosen? This is how the expert reports on the courtyard were put together. It could be argued, without exaggeration, that this was done in a manner that served the prosecution’s case. Fortunately for the prosecutors, the third expert called in, the architect Roberto Maccabruni – a specialist in the field – also supported the prosecution’s case in his report of 29 November 2022, stating that “it is a courtyard in every sense”. However, the application to seize the building site was, as mentioned, rejected.

However, it is here, with Maccabruni’s expert reports, that a quantum leap in investigative journalism takes place in 2023. The nature of the alleged offences changes. A seismic shift is about to occur, one that is now far broader in scope than a mere ‘A Window on the Courtyard’.

Let’s take things in order. Maccabruni’s first expert report also raises the issue of the breach of the required distances between windowed walls, a law dating from 1968. (Incidentally, it is curious that in the Torre Stresa judgement, an appeal by a private citizen on a related issue – ‘sunlight exposure’ – was flatly rejected: ‘In conclusion, it must be held that the development on Via Stresa complies with the distance requirements… with the consequence that the conditions regarding sunlight exposure must be deemed adequate’). However, the expert report does not yet make any comment on an aspect that would later prove crucial: the ‘breach of Article 41-quinquies, paragraph 6, of Law No. 1150/1942’ (yes, we have returned to the sole national law, dating back 84 years), namely the requirement for an ‘implementation plan’. Without this, as we have discovered in recent years, everything is swept away by the ‘diabolical SCIA’s’ – that is, the Certified Notification of Commencement of Activity, which has existed in various forms since the 1990s. A quantum leap in the investigations is on the horizon.

The breach of the ‘implementation plan’ in fact only appears in Maccabruni’s third legal opinion, dated 18 April 2023. It is the cornerstone of all future investigations: the absence of the implementation plan. Without it, everything else will amount to abuse and corruption. Today, prosecutors invoke that provision – Article 41-quinquies, paragraph 6, of Law No. 1150/194 – as an undisputed and widely accepted fact known to all, which ought certainly to have been complied with in the past as well. Yet this was not the case; builders and administrators legitimately operated in accordance with other regulations (in effect, a jungle of paperwork rather than concrete) right up until 2023. In essence, it took four expert reports and two years to identify the ‘ultimate weapon’ to be used in the investigations. How was this possible? After four years during which not a single appeal had been lodged with the Regional Administrative Court? It had not occurred to anyone – not only the operators or local councillors, but not even the prosecutors in the early stages of the investigations – that the rules normally applied constituted serious (corrupt) offences.

At this point, however, it is necessary to rewind a few years. The idea for developer Bezzicchieri to build “Hidden Garden” arose almost by chance in 2016, when an opportunity to purchase a property materialized. These were still the years when property development, backed by private investors and monitored but not hindered by the public authorities, was viewed without any initial suspicion. The rules do exist. Like any diligent entrepreneur, Bezzicchieri began with a ‘feasibility study’ and commissioned the architect Paolo Mazzoleni to draw up a ‘planimetric and volumetric scheme’. Based on a historical and urban planning analysis, Mazzoleni considers that the building is not situated within an ‘urban courtyard’; however, the matter must correctly be referred to the Landscape Commission, as the General Territorial Plan (PGT) provides for a specific procedure. In 2017, the Commission confirms that the site is not an ‘urban courtyard’. In 2019, more than 16 months after the application was submitted, the “building permit” was granted. This underscores that procedures in Milan have never involved collusive cliques, and that all statutory timeframes were respected.

So, are we ready to go? Not quite. There is another curious anecdote, which we recount only because it shows how, even at the end of the last decade, it was in fact a widespread climate of social strife and protest in the city that created the breeding ground for future legal upheavals; and how, at the same time, the political establishment – far from being in cahoots with the ‘speculators’ – was highly susceptible to the pressing, emerging climate of strife. The story. In the summer of 2019, shortly after receiving the go-ahead for the works, the designer Mazzoleni was contacted by Pierfrancesco Maran, then Councillor for Urban Planning: he was receiving urgent complaints from some residents of Piazza Aspromonte – not exactly the future ‘suspended families’ who would later fall victim to the evictions. He proposed an informal, conciliatory meeting between the tenants and BlueStone in his office. This was rather unusual. But it could only serve to confirm to the protesters that the ‘building permit’ was in order. They were not satisfied; the pressure continued; and following discussions and appeals from the councillor, BlueStone agreed to a settlement (the ‘villas amendment’) to modify certain aspects of the project. The agreement is countersigned, Maran gives his blessing to the irregular procedure, and finally, in May 2021, the new plan with the amendment is approved. The ‘villas’ committee steps down, but other stakeholders are ready to step in. Those who will go straight to the public prosecutor’s office. It is a mechanism that we might describe as ‘pre-legal’, yet – starting with the ‘Hidden Garden’ inquiry – it will in many cases prove decisive for the future of urban planning in Milan. Spontaneous committees, more or less coordinated pressure groups with access to social media, the complicit sympathy of the press, and individual citizens appealing to the public prosecutor’s office or the Regional Administrative Court (TAR) become the public prosecutor’s natural allies.

How is it that when the story about the courtyard turns out to be flimsy, the rest falls apart? Why – despite all the valid permits – did no one between 2016 and 2022 find any offence serious enough to take the matter to the Regional Administrative Court? The answer lies in the public prosecutor’s own documents: it doesn’t occur to anyone because there are no grounds for it. So much so that, at the outset and for almost two years, Public Prosecutor Petruzzella simply observed the courtyard from her window.

It remains to be seen what the judges will decide in a few days’ time regarding whether or not this case will go to trial, and what the court may subsequently rule. But in the meantime, the investigation that began in a courtyard had changed its tone and direction.

Because in the meantime, between the first seizure of 2022 and the identification of the specific offence that will underpin all the investigations in 2023, the atmosphere in Milan has changed. It has become poisoned. Copy-and-paste investigations are popping up left, right and centre – everyone faces charges of abuse of office and fraud for using the term ‘renovation’ to refer to new builds (Il Foglio has repeatedly clarified that this is one of the most contradictory and inapplicable definitions in building legislation), along with a preventive seizure. Committees are springing up; the informal network stretching from lawyer Dini to journalists who have always been hostile to the Sala administration, to bloggers and the authors of pamphlets denouncing urban planning malpractice, is shaping the new climate. People are even ready to applaud the work of the public prosecutors in the town squares. The story is well known. The administration under attack backs down, whilst the populist left sees a way to restore its reputation by distancing itself from its past administrative record. The populist right, without much foresight, hopes to bring the whole thing crashing down thanks to the activism of Marcello Viola’s public prosecutor’s office.

Prosecutor Petruzzella has left the courtyard. Obviously not alone: for a long time, the case has been in the hands of Deputy Prosecutor Siciliano, who works with a stable and cohesive team. She has taken charge of other high-profile investigations, such as Torre Stresa (the outcome of which we know). The ‘Pirellino’ investigation, ‘Papiniano 48’, and the Torre Unico-Brera construction site on Via Anfiteatro (a paradoxical tale of seizures in open contradiction even to administrative rulings). And the major operation into the alleged ‘corruption scheme’ in July 2025, with requests for the arrest of high-profile figures that even touched upon the mayor, only to be literally torn to shreds by the Court of Appeal and the Court of Cassation. This is not about compiling a list of achievements; it is simply to highlight how all these legal proceedings are interconnected.

Meanwhile, Andrea Bezzicchieri has even ended up in prison, though in connection with a different investigation – namely, that into the ‘corruption scheme’ concerning the alleged bribery of architect Alessandro Scandurra, a former member of the Landscape Commission. This charge resulted in a few weeks of unnecessary detention for the builder, who was in fact immediately released following a review hearing. The outcome of the investigation was its dismissal by the appeal judges and the Court of Cassation: “Lack of serious evidence”, “a demeaning oversimplification of the argument”. Those were the dark days of summer 2025, when the prosecution’s corruption theories began to falter and the prosecutors tried to raise the stakes by targeting the upper echelons of politics.

Last July, the case reached the preliminary hearing, with a request for a trial. The charges included forgery, unauthorised land subdivision and corruption against 26 people, including the former chairman of the Landscape Commission, Giuseppe Marinoni, and the former deputy chairman, Giovanni Oggioni. In his closing speech, Petruzzella, in his usual combative tone, spoke of “glaring falsehoods” that had led to the construction of “abnormal volumes”. On the broader issue, he lashed out against the supposed ‘good faith of public and private operators’ in a country that ‘has enormous problems with town planning and the law’ and where there is a lack of ‘widespread awareness of the enormous damage’ caused.

But in the meantime, something else, something different, has happened in Milan. Beyond the deflation of the theories of ‘grand corruption’ that were said to have enveloped Milan for years within a ‘system’. Last June, the first-instance verdict on the Torre Stresa case was handed down: eight full acquittals out of eight: ‘For all defendants, the subjective element of the offence is lacking, whether intentional or negligent’. Last week, the grounds for the judgement were published, and they are, to say the least, devastating both in terms of the content of the investigations and the alleged offences – which were, in fact, carbon copies of other cases – and in terms of the very working methods of the prosecution team. First and foremost, and a key issue, is the question of the interpretation of laws and regulations: “This trial has centred primarily on a comparison of different interpretations of urban planning and building regulations at national, regional and municipal levels, in order to verify the procedure followed by officials of the Municipality of Milan”. “It has not been proven that the prosecution’s case was based on the premise that, in order to obtain approval for the building project in question and secure the necessary planning permissions… there was an unlawful agreement between developers and officials, aimed at finding ‘convenient’ and incorrect interpretations of the regulations, conferring a ‘pretence of legitimacy’ and causing ‘astonishing distortions’ of the law”. And further: “No evidence has been presented to support the theory of a conspiracy or a possible criminal agreement between the business operators, professionals and municipal officials – as the Public Prosecutor’s Office has doggedly maintained – to obtain an unlawful planning permission to carry out the planned building works”. ‘Vehemently’: the judges have chosen the perfect adverb to describe the obstinacy – and the prejudiced attitude towards builders and administrators – with which the Milan public prosecutors have, over the course of four years now, built their case of accusation.

At this point, it remains unclear how the situation will evolve (it may not materialise, but if it does…). Out of respect for the facts and the roles involved, it is not for a newspaper to determine who is in the right between the defence and the prosecution. We do, however, know a few things that should be borne in mind. At least in an honest public debate, which Milan sorely needs in an election year. First and foremost, the subject of town planning and building regulations is extremely complicated and contradictory. From Law No. 1150/1942 – which remains the main national town planning law, albeit amended several times – right through to Milan’s 2020 Territorial Management Plan, not to mention regulations and circulars, there are at least twenty provisions that have been utilised, invoked and pitted against one another in each of the Milanese investigations. Starting with the very concept of ‘building renovation’, on which there are even conflicting rulings by the Council of State. What is clear, at the end of this complex and at times absurd journey through the Piazza Aspromonte case, is that this is an investigation born of questionable motives – the opposition of private individuals to a building project that complied with all the rules – and transformed over time into a series of alleged offences that have had, and still have, a much broader and markedly different judicial scope and political fallout. Allegations of criminal offences have become intertwined and accumulated, and have in the meantime become clichés in public debate (speculators, corruption, housing shortages attributed solely to property developers and not, for example, to a decade-long lack of planning and political decision-making). A judicial initiative conducted in a ‘combative’ manner on contradictory premises has helped to create a negative climate, starting with the indictment of public officials and businesspeople, which the court rulings may now disprove. If laws need to be changed – whether because they are contradictory or simply because they have been rendered obsolete by the passage of time and new requirements – they should be amended through the appropriate channels. Anything else creates distorting mechanisms that affect everyone, and Milan in particular. A ‘window on the courtyard’ cannot be the sole vantage point from which to view a metropolis. Nor, indeed, can the bench of a court.

His ‘Damasco’ is not the Cefalù Bistrot. His ‘Damasco’ stands for the rule of law. And for this we must thank Ranucci – not for what he is doing for himself, but for us, for an entire country, for democracy, for the rule of law – with his definitive ten-point manifesto against the culture of mob justice, which, as far as we can recall, he has not helped to shape in Italy in recent years. A few notes and a brief summary that may prove useful for the future. Firstly, coming across a chat with a suspect accused of having planted a bomb under your house in order to boost your notoriety and your untouchability is proof neither of guilt nor of complicity: it is a curious, perhaps anomalous, development, but nothing that could put the public in a position to consider you guilty until proven innocent. The link between suspicious behaviour towards a suspicious individual and actual evidence to be included in a case file remains to be proven: let us not turn mere coincidences into convictions. Secondly. Associating with someone with a dubious track record does not mean the person associating with them inherits the sins of the other: one must learn to exercise common sense, even in one’s private life, and draw a clear distinction between one’s public conduct – as the moral hero – and one’s private conduct – as the sinner. Thirdly. Boasting about being a ‘Latin lover’ in a book, recounting sinful acts committed with a colleague, is not evidence of a dominant male – a symbol of violence stemming from a patriarchal society imposed by the right – but is this, too, a sin, perhaps, which remains to be proven, and which cannot and must not tarnish the public image of a person with, moreover, an impeccable reputation; for whilst careers may perhaps be inseparable in the judicial world, one’s public and private lives can be kept separate, and let us not go overboard with this #MeToo movement, which tends to criminalise even episodes that should be regarded as mere, innocent courtship. Fourthly. To regard a suspect as guilty without having conclusive evidence against them, even going so far as to suspect that the prosecutor investigating the case is completely off track, is not an attitude of complicity towards that suspect but is the very essence of the rule of law, which requires you to treat anyone – even someone suspected of planting a bomb outside your home – as a citizen who should not be subject to hasty judgements, even if that same suspect goes so far as to confess to what they have done. Prudence is required, not hasty judgements, not improvised verdicts. Fifth. Publicly offering incorrect answers to detailed allegations does not mean trying to mislead; absolutely not, but rather having a poor memory; and if, in response to the question ‘what were Ranucci and Lavitola doing together five days after the attack, without a mobile phone, talking intently?’, the aforementioned Ranucci replies that it is not true that he spoke intently with the aforementioned Lavitola five days after Lavitola was served with the notice of investigation, there is no bad faith – at most, there is distraction. Sixth. Displaying a certain inclination to protect the interests of a much-talked-about and decidedly compromised individual—going so far as to give interviews to the Zimbabwean media in defence of that person and their business affairs—does not automatically make one an ‘accomplice’ of that individual; if anything, it demonstrates one's naivety, your good faith, as Luciano Capone would say, and to prove a ‘subordination’ to be regarded as ‘complicity’, much more is needed – far more, in fact – not just some Zimbabwean gossip. Seventh. Using telephone wiretaps as evidence of guilt against a person whose calls have been tapped is a deep, genuine, sincere blow to the rule of law, and if, by chance, the wiretaps seem to suggest collusion between two individuals, as there appears to be between Lavitola and Ranucci on the night Lavitola receives news of the investigations and Ranucci tries to help Lavitola find a strong alibi for himself, this does not mean that there is, even here, any form of intent or complicity: let us not be overwhelmed by the anxiety of needing certainties; much more is required to discredit someone or to investigate them. Eighth. Specialising in the pursuit of scoops derived from information obtained through leaks – perhaps even misusing wiretaps that should not have been transcribed, the names of third parties that should not have been transcribed, or rumours concerning the personal lives of those under surveillance that should not have been transcribed – is not good journalism; it is not, but it is a way of feeding the reader rubbish, because the protection of a person’s privacy is infinitely more important, in a state governed by the rule of law, than the protection of the right to report the news, even taking into account the fact that the right to discredit one’s neighbour should not be passed off as the right to report the news. Ninth. The use of legal action, taken by a powerful figure against those who provide information deemed false about them, is not and cannot be regarded in any way or in any form as a subversive, intimidating or anti-democratic tool, but must be regarded as a normal means of defence, to protect one’s reputation in the face of possible slander, because news reports must always be substantiated, detailed and contextualised, and public shaming cannot be regarded as an acceptable practice within a country’s public life, as is sometimes the case on certain programmes – though we cannot recall which ones. Tenth.

Finally, a point for which we can never thank Dr Ranucci enough for his global tour in defence of due process: the party of quick arrests, summary trials and due process used merely as lip service must finally convince itself that no, really, no, it is not acceptable to continue living in a country dominated by the perverse logic of ‘he couldn’t possibly not have known’, ‘he couldn’t possibly not have been aware’, ‘he couldn’t possibly not have seen’. Evidence is one thing, suspicion another; that is the lesson of due process à la Ranucci, and even if the individual who ‘couldn’t possibly not have known’, who ‘couldn’t possibly not have been aware’, who ‘couldn’t possibly not have seen’ is regarded by many as the prince of investigations, the champion of piecing together the threads, we must be cautious and refrain from speculation, because evidence is one thing, theories another; and in a country that wishes to combat the culture of lynch mobs, the ‘Report’-style Ranucci model may set a bad example, but the ‘Lavitola’-style Ranucci model can serve as a good example to explain why friendship does not mean collusion, context does not imply complicity, and seeing everything without knowing much does not equate to guilt.

And this is where the story gets interesting. When the government introduced the tests, Minister Carlo Nordio explained that the aim was to identify any potential mental health or personality disorders. The CSM, after hearing from nineteen experts, ruled out personality tests, deeming them to have poor predictive value, and shifted its focus to cognitive abilities, reasoning, problem-solving and adaptation to new situations. The resolution approved yesterday adds emotional, relational, ethical-value and organisational aspects to the areas to be assessed. There is therefore much room for debate regarding the appropriateness of the tests. But before crying foul over a lack of legitimacy, it is worth noting the paradox: the real issue is not that magistrates are being subjected to some sort of invasive psychological examination. It is almost the opposite. The risk to be assessed following yesterday’s decision by the High Council of the Judiciary is therefore not that of having a test that is too aggressive. It is the opposite. It is the risk of having a test so cautious that it becomes harmless. And therefore, perhaps, useless.

The measure aims to identify, with a view to the future development of the tests, “those grounds for unsuitability to which the legislator refers and the assessment of which the tests must be geared towards”. The conditions of unsuitability, which are intended to prevent access to a career as a public prosecutor or judge, must be ascertained “following a process that begins with the administration of tests, continues with an interview conducted by the chair of the session with the assistance of a specialist psychologist, and concludes with an evaluative summary drawn up by the entire examination committee (or sub-committee)”. The resolution approved by the plenary session emphasises that the psycho-aptitude tests, developed in collaboration with four expert psychologists, are a tool “designed to ascertain the absence of grounds for ineligibility, not to diagnose pathological conditions”.

The investigation into the doctors was launched following a complaint lodged by Barbieri’s family against the local health authority (ASL). At the conclusion of the investigation, the Rome Public Prosecutor’s Office had requested that the case be dismissed, but the investigating magistrate upheld the objection lodged by Barbieri’s family and has scheduled a hearing for 16 December at which a decision on how to proceed will be made. The alleged offences include, in various respects, refusal to perform or omission of official duties, private violence and torture.

The great paradox of the whole affair is that, at the time, constitutional case law had by no means clarified the concept of ‘life-sustaining treatment’ (which, incidentally, remains not fully defined even today).

In 2019, the Constitutional Court ruled that assisted suicide may not be punishable, under certain conditions, when the person is suffering from an irreversible condition, is experiencing intolerable suffering, is capable of making free and informed decisions, and is ‘kept alive by means of life-sustaining treatment’. That ruling, however, did not precisely define what should fall within this category. The requirement was therefore already in place, but the boundaries within which treatment could be considered essential for keeping the patient alive remained unclear.

The issue was addressed by the Constitutional Court in 2024. In Judgment No. 135, the Court clarified that life-sustaining treatment does not necessarily have to involve a machine or device, but may also include certain procedures carried out by healthcare staff or family members, such as urinary catheterisation, manual bowel evacuation or mucus suction, where these are necessary to maintain vital functions and their discontinuation could lead to death within a short period of time.

Sibilla Barbieri was not being kept alive by ventilators or mechanical respirators, but as a terminally ill cancer patient she was undergoing drug treatment. By the time she travelled to Switzerland, she had become dependent on oxygen therapy and was taking significant doses of painkillers. Barbieri’s family believed that the local health authority should have reassessed the situation in light of this deterioration.

The first paradox is clear: doctors at ASL Roma 1, following a decision taken in 2023, are under criminal investigation on the basis of a clarification from the Constitutional Court issued in 2024, in accordance with a sort of retroactive case law based on hindsight. But there is a second problematic aspect. Even if the Constitutional Court’s clarification had been issued before Barbieri’s request to ASL Roma 1, it is by no means certain that the doctors’ assessment would have been a foregone conclusion. Barbieri was taking medication for her condition and had become dependent on oxygen therapy, but determining whether and which of these treatments met the requirement of ‘life-sustaining support’ would still have required a concrete assessment by the doctors.

The Constitutional Court’s own case law is by no means clear. Suffice it to say that, in a judgement handed down in July 2026, the Court clarified that the concept of ‘life-sustaining support’ includes various types of replacement of bodily functions, but does not automatically extend to those receiving simple treatments or medication that are not immediately life-saving. In short, the fact that a patient is taking high-dose opioids to manage pain does not, in itself, mean that those opioids are ‘keeping them alive’. The assessment regarding the use of oxygen therapy is more complex, but even in this case it should be borne in mind that this can only be considered a life-sustaining treatment if, without it, the patient is unable to maintain respiratory function compatible with life.

The point, then, is simple: one may debate whether the Local Health Authority erred in its assessment of Sibilla Barbieri’s case, but to turn that decision into an alleged offence on the basis of a notion of ‘life-sustaining treatment’ – which the Constitutional Court itself would only clarify later – is to attach a weight to hindsight that, in criminal law, should have very little place.

When rules are written in the same spirit as a slogan, they only cause trouble. What was meant was: any sexual act carried out without consent is sexual assault, and any distinction – even a purely semantic one – would take us back to the intolerable cultural dregs of the fascist penal code. However, whatever label one might wish to give to a criminal offence, it seems irrefutable from each of our own human experiences that not all behaviour falling under that offence is perceived as equally reprehensible. This is so obvious that the 1996 reform itself, under the guise of that obtuse ideological imposition, nevertheless recognised and regulated this inescapable truth, providing for a reduction in the sentence of no less than ‘up to two-thirds’ in cases of sexual violence of ‘minor severity’.

A mess, because the same provision states: do not dare to call anything other than sexual violence even those behaviours – however reprehensible – which case law had hitherto described as ‘intrusive touching, forced kissing, unauthorised groping’ etc.; yet it then leaves it entirely to the judge’s discretion to apply precisely to these acts (to which others, if not?) a reduction in sentence (“up to two-thirds”) that is actually greater than that provided for by the Fascist code for so-called “acts of violent lust” compared with “rape” (one-third). Hypocrisy and populist stupidity in their purest form. As if that were not enough, it is worth noting that, inevitably, last year the Constitutional Court – having acknowledged that this formidable reduction in sentence may also apply to aggravated sexual offences (e.g. if committed – would you believe it – against minors), extended its applicability – once again left to the discretionary judgement of the court in each specific case – even to gang rape, which is, of all offences, the one most severely punished. It may therefore happen – in accordance with the law and as is entirely to be expected – that even ‘less serious’ cases of gang rape may occur, with a sentence reduced by up to two-thirds. In short, this represents a clear example of the irredeemable obtuseness of political correctness: in the name of semantic orthodoxy, it was deemed preferable to entrust truly vast scopes of discretion to the judge, rather than providing more rigorous – and, above all, binding – statutory definitions for the judge himself. Had these elementary concepts – which I have merely summarised here – been properly examined in the case of the Bangladeshi shop assistant, the right to criticise the Turin investigating magistrate’s decision to impose only a requirement to sign in, rather than imprisonment as requested by the public prosecutor (a matter now under review by the appeal judges), would have remained entirely intact and legitimate; but at the very least we would have been spared the shameful recourse to the systematic, cynical and vulgar manipulation of the truth, which has stirred up emotions, enraged public opinion, and sown hatred and venom.

The order issued by the investigating magistrate in Turin unequivocally describes conduct consisting – to use the old legal terminology here – of ‘unauthorised groping’ of the young girl. Therefore, ‘sexual assault on a minor’ – and the perpetrator will certainly pay the price for this heinous offence – but certainly not “the rape of a little girl”, as I have heard shouted or written in bold letters not by the usual keyboard warriors, but first and foremost by editors of – shall we say – established and reputable daily newspapers, by leading opinion writers and by political figures at the very highest levels, including institutional ones. As I have sought to explain here, the primary responsibility certainly lies with the ill-fated legislative choice to deny semantic distinctions to behaviours whose varying degrees of seriousness are subsequently recognised by the law itself, ‘hidden’ by the provision of a mitigating circumstance that is, in fact, utterly destructive. However, the decision by those who, given their responsibilities and roles, did not hesitate to fail in their duty to inform public opinion with even a minimum respect for the truth of the facts, has written one of the many humiliating chapters in the political history we are now forced to live through, in these such difficult times.