Espionage at Bercy: Le Figaro Convicts Before the Judge

Meriem Benali — Bruxelles, Belgique — 2026-09-06

In its edition of 12 March 2025, Le Figaro, under the byline of Ambre Lepoivre, revealed that "a Bercy civil servant and an employee of the immigration office are suspected of spying for Algeria." Suspected: that is the word the law uses — and the one the newspaper's headline has already forgotten. Two people have been placed under formal investigation in Paris: a 56-year-old Franco-Algerian civil servant, on 19 December 2024, for "intelligence with a foreign power" and related charges, and an Ofii social worker, on 7 February 2025, for breach of professional confidentiality. Being placed under formal investigation means that an inquiry has been opened — nothing more. Above all, it means that, under French law, these two people are presumed innocent until their guilt is established. Le Figaro, for its part, has already delivered its verdict; the judge has not.

Because what does the file actually say, at this stage? The civil servant denies the charges. His lawyer, Sipan Ohanians, describes his client as "the victim of a campaign of threats and manipulation by a foreign power" — and Le Figaro itself reports that the information was allegedly passed on "under duress, notably through intimidation tactics." In January 2026, on France 2's Complément d'enquête, the man insisted: "I did not hand them over of my own free will." As for the alleged "mastermind" — an agent of the Algerian consulate in Créteil whom sources close to the investigation present as covered by Algerian intelligence — he has not even been placed under formal investigation: his diplomatic immunity has put him out of reach of the French courts. So we have a case in which the accused says he was coerced, the presumed mastermind is untouchable, and two people have been waiting for more than a year for someone to decide. This is not a spy novel: it is a judicial inquiry, with its grey areas — and that is precisely why it exists.

The "media presumption," for its part, did not wait. As early as 13 March, a public-service television newscast ran the headline "Bercy: ministry official accused of spying on behalf of Algeria"; another channel spoke of "a mole inside the ministry." Accused, mole, spy: under French law, publicly presenting as guilty someone who has merely been placed under formal investigation runs counter to the principle enshrined in Article 9-1 of the Civil Code. But who cares about the Civil Code when there is a front page to fill? As of this writing, no trial has taken place, no guilt has been established — and yet the narrative is already written, Algeria already convicted, the "mole" already sentenced. Le Figaro has forgotten one procedural detail: it is not the court.

The contrast, then, is worth its weight in peanuts. When documented investigations implicate another power — not over two sensitive files but over the mass surveillance of the phones of the Republic — what is the reaction? In July 2021, the Pegasus investigation coordinated by Forbidden Stories established that around a thousand French numbers had been selected by the Moroccan client of the Israeli firm NSO's spyware — among them journalists (Edwy Plenel, Lenaïg Bredoux, Rosa Moussaoui…), lawyers and, according to the investigation, "President Emmanuel Macron and many ministers." ANSSI and the DGSI examined the phone of minister Sébastien Lecornu, which, according to the DGSI report, showed "signs of compromise evidencing at the very least potential targeting." A confidential DGSE note dated 26 November 2022 established that "the United Arab Emirates and Morocco used NSO products, at least since 2017." The Élysée's reaction in 2021: "If the facts are proven, they are obviously very serious." And then? No ultimatum, no "show of force," no threats against the agreements. The kingdom's complaint against Radio France was declared inadmissible — a ruling the Cour de cassation definitively confirmed in late 2024 — and in October 2024, Emmanuel Macron paid a state visit to Rabat, welcomed as befits an ally. Le Figaro, which nevertheless knows perfectly well how to read a DGSE report, found nothing in that affair to justify calling for a "change of gear."

Then consider the irony of the calendar: the 12 March 2025 article on "spying for Algeria" ran just two days before the famous "list of dangerous nationals" was transmitted to Algiers, on 14 March, bundled with the threat of "calling our entire agreements into question." French justice has not finished investigating before the diplomacy of ultimatums has already ruled. Two suspected agents, and an entire country is pilloried; documented mass espionage targeting the President of the Republic, and we get the polite silence of state visits. There are powers before which the press bows, and countries it convicts in advance. That is not espionage: that is editorial geopolitics.

So let us state things plainly. If a French civil servant betrayed his country, let justice say so, and let him be punished — Algeria, which itself endured the espionage campaigns of the dark years, has no reason to protect anyone. But the presumption of innocence is not a favour granted to Algeria: it is a rule that protects every citizen, starting with those who are paraded on the front page before a file has even been opened. For a year now, Le Figaro has been showing its hand: "espionage for Algeria." The judge, for his part, has still said nothing. In a France that claims to uphold the rule of law, it is high time we knew who is running this case: the courts, or the newspaper.