Norway's most severe terrorist sentence of 30 years' preventive detention could face a new legal challenge, as the convicted gunman's defense lawyer refuses to accept the court's foundational verdict. Defense lawyer Jon Anders Hasle has stated he does not rule out reopening the criminal case against his client, Zaniar Matapour, convicted for the 2022 Oslo shooting. This potential move follows a separate agreement this week to pay compensation to 120 victims, an agreement Hasle calls a procedural necessity that does not validate the terrorism conviction. The defense's persistent argument centers on a critical legal distinction: that Matapour's actions constituted murder, not terrorism, a claim that challenges the core narrative of one of modern Norway's most traumatic attacks.
A Defense Built on Legal Distinction
Jon Anders Hasle's position is not one of denying the horrific events of June 25, 2022. His client was found guilty of killing two people and injuring 21 others in a shooting spree targeting the London Pub and Per på hjørnet, LGBTQ+ venues in central Oslo. The court's classification of these acts as terrorism, under Norway's penal code § 131, was pivotal. It allowed for the maximum sentence of 30 years' preventive detention, reserved for the gravest crimes where there is a high risk of reoffending. Hasle, however, argues the evidence shows a different intent. He points to Matapour's own testimony in the related trial of co-defendant Arfan Bhatti, where Matapour cited frustration with the state as his motive. “His case is that this was not intended as a terrorist act,” Hasle stated. “The goal of getting that across, we have not given up.” This legal strategy hinges on separating a politically motivated terror attack from a violent outburst driven by personal grievance against authorities.
Compensation Settled, Core Dispute Unresolved
This legal maneuvering occurs against the backdrop of a concluded civil settlement. On Tuesday, Hasle and lawyers for the victims agreed that 120 newly recognized affected individuals would receive compensation. In the Norwegian system, such claims are often processed after criminal liability is established. Hasle clarified his agreement to these payments, stating there is no legal basis to contest the compensation claims as long as the terrorism conviction stands. “It is sad that his case has not come through,” Hasle said of his client's narrative. This creates a paradoxical situation: the defense is facilitating reparations to victims based on a verdict it fundamentally contests, treating the civil and criminal tracks as procedurally separate battles. The financial resolution for victims, while crucial, does not equate to an acceptance of the legal reasoning behind it by the convicted party's defense.
The High Stakes of Reclassification
The push to reclassify the crime from terrorism to murder is about more than semantics or potential sentence reduction. It strikes at the heart of how Norway defines and responds to ideological violence. A terrorism conviction carries immense societal and symbolic weight, acknowledging an act designed to intimidate a population or undermine fundamental societal structures. The 2022 attack, occurring during Oslo Pride, was widely seen as an assault on Norway's LGBTQ+ community and its values of openness. Changing the legal label to murder would reframe the incident as a catastrophic, but non-ideological, crime by an individual. Legal experts note that the threshold for proving terrorist intent in Norwegian courts requires evidence that the act was intended to seriously intimidate a population or unduly influence public authorities. Hasle's argument suggests Matapour's stated frustration did not meet this specific bar, aiming instead at state entities in a broader, less structured way. The prosecution's successful argument, accepted by the court, was that targeting a visible symbol of the LGBTQ+ community during Pride constituted an attempt to intimidate that entire group within the Norwegian populace.
Historical Context and Legal Precedent
Norway's legal history with terrorism charges is defined by two watershed events: the 2011 attacks by Anders Behring Breivik and the 2022 Matapour shooting. The Breivik case firmly established the framework for applying § 131, setting a precedent for what constitutes politically motivated terror against the state and its people. The Matapour verdict applied this framework to a different form of ideological violence, one rooted in religious extremism and targeting a minority group. Reopening this case would not be a simple appellate review. It would require presenting new evidence or arguments significant enough to justify a retrial, a high legal bar. Hasle suggests this is their aim: to sufficiently illuminate that the situation is different from terrorism. “What he explained is not terror, but murder,” the lawyer asserts. If such a reopening were to occur and succeed, it could potentially recalibrate the application of terrorism statutes in future cases, narrowing the scope of what qualifies as ideological intimidation versus personal or grievance-based violence. This prospect worries some security analysts, who argue it could complicate the legal toolkit for confronting extremism.
A Look Ahead: Law, Memory, and Security
The path forward is uncertain. The defense has signaled its intent but has not filed formal proceedings. Any attempt to reopen the criminal case would trigger a complex legal process, likely stretching over years and forcing victims to relive the trauma through new hearings. It would also reopen the civil claims, as Hasle confirmed. From a policy perspective, the case continues to inform Norway's ongoing debates on counter-terrorism, integration, and the protection of minority communities. The government and police have implemented stricter security measures around major events, particularly Pride, citing the 2022 attack as a stark lesson. The unwavering classification of the attack as terrorism has reinforced the state's narrative of standing against all forms of extremist violence. A successful challenge to that label, however unlikely it may seem given the solid trial verdict, would send shockwaves through Norway's judicial and political landscape. It would force a public re-examination of a tragedy that the nation, and especially the LGBTQ+ community, has sought to process with a clear understanding of its nature. For now, the 30-year sentence stands, the compensation is being processed, but the lawyer's words hang in the air: the goal of reframing this act in the eyes of the law has not been abandoned. Norway's legal system, praised for its handling of national traumas, may yet face another profound test from within its own walls.