Abu Agila Mas'ud Kheir Al-Marimi, the Libyan national accused of building the bomb that brought down Pan Am Flight 103 over Lockerbie in 1988, has claimed that his confession to the atrocity was forced under duress in the chaotic aftermath of Colonel Muammar Gaddafi’s fall. As his trial in Washington, D.C. approaches, Mas'ud’s defense team is pushing to have his alleged confession ruled inadmissible, arguing that it was extracted through threats to his life and family, in a climate of violence and retribution that swept Libya after the revolution.
The bombing of Pan Am Flight 103 on December 21, 1988, remains the deadliest terror attack on British soil, killing all 259 passengers and crew on board—190 of them Americans—and 11 residents of Lockerbie, Scotland, when debris from the Boeing 747 rained down on the town. The memory of the disaster still casts a long shadow, especially for the families who lost loved ones and for the communities forever marked by the tragedy.
According to reporting by the BBC and The Scotsman, Mas'ud, now 74, alleges that in 2012, following the collapse of Gaddafi’s regime, he was abducted from his home by armed men, separated from his family and medication, and held incommunicado in an unofficial prison facility. He describes being driven through streets where bodies lay, witnessing other inmates who had been beaten and abused, and being denied any procedural rights. In this context, Mas'ud claims, three masked men—believed to be anti-Gaddafi revolutionaries—entered his cell, handed him a handwritten note, and ordered him to memorize its contents.
The note, according to Mas'ud’s lawyers, began with an explicit order: confess to the Lockerbie bombing and another terrorist attack. The men told him he would have to repeat the details to a Libyan official the next day, and warned that if he failed to comply, “bad things would happen to him or his family.” Mas'ud, who has six children, said he complied out of fear—not just for himself, but for his family’s safety. He reportedly knew firsthand of a friend’s daughter who had been shot, and had witnessed beatings in prison. “Mr Al-Marimi felt he had no choice but to comply. He had ample reason to fear for himself; before his seizure, he had personally witnessed beatings in other prisons. But he was more afraid for his family. He had six children and felt they still had lives left to live. If he resisted, his children could be assaulted or killed,” his defense team stated in court filings, as reported by the BBC.
Mas'ud’s defense has drawn a stark historical analogy, arguing in a motion to suppress the confession that, “Just as ... a black man accused of killing a white man in Jim Crow-era Arkansas would fear mob violence ... so would a Libyan who allegedly worked for Gaddafi have feared retaliation against himself and his family in post-revolution Libya.” They point to U.S. Department of State reports describing Gaddafi’s regime as one of extrajudicial killings, torture, and arbitrary detention, and note that after the revolution, a climate of anger and retaliation targeted those associated with the old order. Contemporary accounts from U.S. officials documented “arbitrary and unlawful killings, kidnappings, torture and other cruel and inhuman or degrading treatment.”
Details of Mas'ud’s alleged confession first emerged publicly five years ago, after the U.S. Department of Justice announced it was charging him in connection with the Lockerbie bombing. The FBI’s criminal complaint summary claims that while in detention in 2012, Mas'ud admitted to playing a key role in the attack alongside other members of the Libyan intelligence service. The bureau also alleges that, after confessing, Mas'ud was congratulated in person by Gaddafi, who told him he had performed “a great national duty” against the Americans.
Mas'ud, who holds dual Libyan and Tunisian citizenship, is currently receiving treatment for a non-life-threatening medical condition as he awaits trial. His legal team has asked the federal court in Washington to rule his confession inadmissible before the trial, which has been postponed to April 2026. They argue that American courts have consistently found custodial statements made under threat or coercion to be involuntary and inadmissible under the Fifth Amendment, regardless of whether they were made in the United States or abroad.
The only previous Lockerbie trial took place between May 2000 and January 2001, when Libyan intelligence agent Abdelbaset al-Megrahi was convicted by a panel of three Scottish judges sitting at a special court in The Hague. Megrahi was sentenced to life in prison in Scotland, but was controversially released on compassionate grounds in 2009 after being diagnosed with terminal cancer; he died in Libya in 2012. Prosecutors have always maintained that Megrahi did not act alone, and that others were involved in the plot, a position reinforced by the ongoing case against Mas'ud.
The FBI has indicated that the Libyan official who recorded Mas'ud’s confession in 2012 is prepared to testify at the upcoming trial. Prosecutors from the U.S. Department of Justice have not yet responded publicly to the defense’s claims of coercion, nor have they commented on the motion to suppress the confession. As the trial date approaches, the legal battle over the admissibility of Mas'ud’s statements is expected to be a central focus, with both sides preparing to argue over the circumstances under which the confession was obtained and its relevance to the case.
For the families of the 270 victims, the renewed attention on the Lockerbie bombing is a reminder of the long quest for justice and the complexities that surround such a notorious act of terror. The defense’s claims of coercion, if proven, could have major implications for the prosecution’s case, potentially undermining a key piece of evidence. At the same time, the U.S. government’s determination to bring those responsible to account reflects the enduring impact of the tragedy on both sides of the Atlantic.
As the court considers whether Mas'ud’s confession will be allowed as evidence, the world watches—hoping for a resolution that honors the victims, upholds the rule of law, and sheds light on one of the darkest chapters in modern history.