A recent judicial case in Italy, which has captured international media attention, invites us to reflect on the thin and often blurred line that separates self-defense from revenge.
The facts can be summarized as follows: in 2023, a jeweler near Turin was assaulted in his shop by two individuals armed with a knife and a handgun, although the latter turned out to be a toy. The jeweler, who had already suffered a violent robbery eight years earlier, reacted by forcing the criminals to flee, then pursued them onto the public street. Upon catching up with them, he fired shots with a legally held firearm, causing the death of the two assailants and wounding an accomplice who was covering their retreat.
Recently, a second-instance ruling sentenced the jeweler to 14 years and 9 months in prison for voluntary manslaughter, in addition to imposing a substantial financial compensation to be paid to the families of the deceased. The ruling excluded the mitigating factor of self-defense, arguing that the basic legal requirements were not met: the existence of an imminent danger of death and the act occurring within the home or place of business. For the court, the reaction was disproportionate and betrayed a desire for revenge rather than defense.
As expected, the verdict has divided public opinion and the Italian political arena, with conservative parties criticizing the sentence and leftist parties defending it. While no one questions the legality of the ruling, many citizens perceive the conviction as an excessive measure that leaves victims of crime unprotected. The jeweler’s trauma, a consequence of the previous robbery, is cited as a factor that may have clouded his judgment, sparking a social campaign calling for a presidential pardon. However, critics of the goldsmith have pointed to a history of violent behavior, which complicates his public image. Similarly, the debate over compensation for the aggressors has generated outrage, although it should be noted that Italian legislation has been reformed since the events took place, eliminating this point, even if the reform is not retroactively applicable to this case.
This dilemma is, mutatis mutandis, a mirror of what occurs in scenarios of violent social unrest in Bolivia, where the use of public force often creates victims, whose responsibility is not always clear-cut.
Two fundamental questions emerge:
1. Where does the limit lie? Proportionality is the key. Chasing down and shooting an assailant who is fleeing, without any imminent danger, turns defense into a summary execution—a practice more compatible with the era of the Wild West than with the values of a state governed by the rule of law.
2. Is it ethical to compensate an aggressor? In moral terms, it is shocking. However, in legal terms, if the reaction was an act of extrajudicial justice, the State must maintain its monopoly on violence, even if the end result appears to be a flagrant injustice.
When applying these reflections to the geopolitical arena—from Russia’s aggression against Ukraine to the Israeli response in Gaza and Lebanon following the events of October 7, or the undeclared war between Israel, the US, and Iran—the complexity increases.
If humanity could manage to apply the principle of proportionality—that which seeks a balance between the offense and the response, even without embracing the Christian value of forgiveness—the path toward international peace and justice would undoubtedly be less tortuous. Applying, and even transcending, the law of retaliation, understood as restraint rather than just vengeance, remains the pending challenge of our civilization.