Details from the trial of the Jordanian pilot’s IS killer

When questioned about the crime scene and the whereabouts of Moaz al-Kasasbeh's body, Karim denied any knowledge. When asked about the duration of the execution, Karim said the entire process, from arrival to departure, took 15-20 minutes. "I was on the second floor of a bombed building, in a slightly elevated position," he said. In addition to the core group of 13, Karim reported the presence of about ten masked individuals and some Raqqa residents.

Religious extremism

Now aged 33, Karim was born and raised in Malmö, southern Sweden, to a Syrian father and a Palestinian mother who had previously lived in Lebanon. According to police investigations—which included testimonies from friends and neighbours—Karim was remembered for his friendly demeanour, sociability, sense of humour, and football skills. We wanted to follow in the footsteps of Swedish footballer Zlatan Ibrahimović.

Far from being withdrawn, Karim was described as a social and engaging young man, maintaining close relationships with peers and neighbours alike. "My childhood was completely normal," he told prosecutors. "I went to school, played sports, and spent time with my family. I had friends in the neighbourhood, and when I attended school outside Malmö, I met native Swedes. I also had football teammates. I don't see any benefit in naming those friends."

A shift towards increased religious observance eventually became evident in Karim's behaviour, but this did not alarm his family or friends, who saw it as a preferable alternative to involvement in Malmö's active drug trafficking scene, particularly prevalent among refugee communities of various backgrounds.

"I changed overnight during Ramadan when I was 19 or 20," Karim said. "Before that, I drank alcohol and did many things contrary to religious teachings. I decided to change my behaviour and honour religion. You ask if something specific prompted that change—why do you always assume a new phase in life must have a trigger? Don't forget, my parents are devout Muslims who taught us how to practise our faith. You can stop drinking at any time; there's no need for a special occasion or dramatic event."

From Malmö to Raqqa

It was a warm August day in Sweden when Karim, carrying a small bag and cash acquired through small loans and credit card abuse, boarded a train from Malmö to Copenhagen. He was on his way to Raqqa, where he would soon become one of IS's most dangerous operatives, participating in three of the group's deadliest operations.

According to the French police investigation file, Karim left Sweden on 15 August 2014, carrying $20,000 in cash. From Antalya, he continued to Gaziantep, accompanied by around ten other Swedish nationals. They then crossed into Syria, heading to the city of Mayadeen, where Karim's paternal grandfather lived. There, they underwent a month of Sharia courses alongside light military training. Karim was later selected to join Liwa al-Siddiq (The Brigade of the Truthful), one of IS's key military formations. He received advanced military training, where he demonstrated a notable aptitude.

The file included intelligence from an embedded agent within Liwa al-Siddiq. Around 40 recruits underwent two months' military training before being formally inducted into the brigade, founded by IS spokesman Abu Mohammad al-Adnani in Raqqa. However, a leg injury sustained by Karim prevented him from continuing in combat roles. As a result, IS reassigned him to Raqqa, the group's de facto capital, where he was tasked with logistical responsibilities. It was there that he was selected from a group of 13 individuals who carried out the execution of Moaz al-Kasasbeh.

Caught by chance

A crucial breakthrough in the French investigation of Karim came by sheer chance, when authorities uncovered a damning Facebook Messenger conversation between him and his brother, Anas Karim. "Did you manage to watch new videos where there's a man being roasted?" Karim asked his brother on 25 February 2015. Anas responded: "Yes." Karim then added: "I appear in the north of the video." Anas replied to this, laughing, posting: "Yes, yes… I saw your marked eyebrow." Soon after, Karim vanished from all social media platforms in a bid to evade surveillance, but this was evidence of his involvement in the execution.

Several months after participating in one of the most harrowing executions ever documented, Karim obtained a forged Syrian passport. On 21 September 2015, he left Raqqa in a smuggler's car headed for Turkey. After spending three days in Izmir on the Aegean coast, he joined the largest human exodus of the Syrian war, boarding a rubber dinghy bound for the Greek island of Leros. There, he registered under a false identity as a refugee, and secretly met the group that would later carry out the Paris and Brussels terrorist attacks.

In classified interrogations, Karim said he left Syria "because I wanted to see my family again and because I no longer agreed with the Islamic State on certain matters," adding: "They banned great Muslim scholars. Some rules were not to be questioned, but others were unacceptable. ISIS is not a group of angels. If you're asking for specifics—they tortured people over simple misunderstandings and treated others unjustly. But let me be absolutely clear: I didn't leave ISIS to carry out any mission. I simply left their territory."

Identifying the perpetrators

The investigation revealed the identities of three individuals involved in the execution. In February 2018, Alexander Kotey, a British national of Yemeni descent known as Abu Saleh, was captured by the Syrian Democratic Forces while attempting to flee Raqqa. He was later handed over to the FBI. During his interrogation, Kotey confirmed that Karim was a member of the Fourth Company of Liwa al-Siddiq, which was under the command of Qasim Abu Qar, also known as Abu Yahya al-Somali.

Despite the executioners' faces being concealed, Kotey identified three of the participants in the burning operation after viewing the video: an American-Libyan, recognised by the shape of his head; Samer Alamuddin, a Lebanese-Australian known as Abu Laith al-Australian; and  al-Somali, who he identified by skin tone.

Kotey also speculated that the individual who ignited the flames was either Abu Omar al-Tunisi or IS spokesman Abu Mohammad al-Adnani. Kotey further revealed that Mohammad Emwazi, the British-Kuwaiti known in the press as 'Jihadi John,' served as the director of the execution, overseeing the positioning of the 13 men involved and assigning their roles.

Witnessing an execution

Moaz al-Kasasbeh was captured on 24 December 2014 when his F-16 was shot down near Raqqa while participating in US-led coalition airstrikes against IS positions in Syria. Images from the time show IS apprehending al-Kasasbeh and leading him into captivity, where he was tortured before his execution. Though the exact date of the killing has long been debated, Kotey's testimony suggests that it likely occurred in late December 2014, just days after his capture. There is visible bruising under al-Kasasbeh's eye. Karim's confirmation that al-Kasasbeh's body remained at the scene until the end of December further suggests that the execution took place just days after his capture.

During an interrogation session in France on 13 December 2023, Karim said: "Yes, I witnessed the execution. It happened in Raqqa. I wasn't selected. Someone I knew in Raqqa who was present at the execution invited me to come along. You'll ask me who he is. I know his nickname, but I don't want to tell you." He was asked about the sandy-coloured military uniforms worn by those involved and whether they signified elite status within IS. "We got the clothes from those responsible for the filming," said Karim. "They gave them to us just before the operation and collected them afterwards."

Asked about his psychological state at the time, Karim said: "When I got there, I didn't know what was going to happen. There was someone under arrest. There were many cameras, and that's when I realised that an execution was going to take place—and that it would be filmed." Karim firmly denied that he was the one who set the cage alight.

A family's pain

On 25 March, Jawdat al-Kasasbeh, the brother of the slain pilot, travelled to Stockholm to provide his testimony, recounting the profound shock and dread the family experienced upon learning that Moaz's plane had been shot down and that he had been captured by IS. "I began to imagine how he would be killed," he recalled. "I had been following the group's atrocities through television and social media.

"I entered the (army) command centre and saw his location on the screens. The commander pointed to a specific house and said Moaz was believed to be there. I asked him to bomb that house—believing that death by bombing would be more merciful than the manner of killing used by ISIS. But he refused, saying the decision was not his to make—it was international."

Their father strongly disagreed with the idea. He believed IS, despite its brutality, would spare Moaz's life in accordance with Islamic principles. Jawdat recalled his father saying: "These people claim to be an Islamic state. They won't harm him. They want to appear moral in front of Arab nations." Jawdat told the trial: "I was almost certain Moaz would be killed—but I never imagined he would be burned alive inside a cage. I knew (ISIS) beheaded or shot captives, but this level of savagery was unimaginable."

Misleading negotiators

Despite having executed al-Kasasbeh weeks earlier, IS tried to negotiate his release in exchange for three prisoners held by the Jordanian government, including Sajida al-Rishawi, an Iraqi woman sentenced to death. The negotiations were linked to the 9 November 2005 bombings in Amman, which targeted the Radisson SAS, Grand Hyatt Amman, and Days Inn hotels. These attacks claimed the lives of around 60 people and injured more than 100, most of them civilians.

Al-Rishawi had taken part in the plot alongside her husband, Ali Hussein Ali al-Shamari, a follower of Abu Musab al-Zarqawi. While her husband detonated his explosives, al-Rishawi survived after her belt failed to go off. She later claimed that her husband had coerced her into participating in the attack.

There is no doubt that the brutality of al-Kasasbeh's murder and the deceitful nature of IS negotiations will remain etched in the collective memory for generations. Regardless of how long the Swedish court's verdict takes, Osama Karim will remain behind bars, serving a life sentence for his involvement in one of the most horrifying crimes of the modern era.