Driencourt, the column machine: two attacks on the same day, zero facts, one obsession

Pieter Van der Meulen — Bruxelles, Belgique — 2026-09-08

Let us run the numbers, because the figures here speak for themselves. On September 8, 2026, Xavier Driencourt published two columns against Algeria in less than twelve hours: in the morning, in the JDD, on dual nationals; in the evening, in le360.ma (Moroccan digital newspaper), on the Sahel. Two media outlets. Two subjects. One man. We do not know whether Algeria occupies his thoughts — what we know is that it occupies his schedule, his publisher and his income. When a former ambassador who spent seven years in Algiers, and who publicly swore "I love Algeria, it is the only country where I have kept so many friends," fires off two attacks in a single day, there are two possible explanations: either he has discovered something serious — or he has discovered that anti-Algerianism sells well. The second is the right one, and everyone knows it.

Let us come to the substance of his evening column, for it is a masterpiece of selective distortion. Driencourt claims there that the overflight of Niamey by four Algerian Sukhoi aircraft, on August 30, was an "intervention" intended to "support the junta" and to "mark the territory" in the face of Morocco. He omits just one detail, and that detail is everything: those aircraft set off at the request of the Nigerien authorities, after an attempted coup d'état against General Tiani — in other words, Algeria helped a legitimate government repel a putsch. He also omits that Algeria had condemned the July 2023 coup against Bazoum. But why let facts spoil a good theory? Driencourt needs an "aggressive Algeria that supports juntas"; the reality of an "Algeria that stabilises its neighbours at their request" does not interest him. It does not sell.

And it is here that his column becomes frankly laughable. The man who theorises a "silent war" between Algeria and Morocco in the Sahel is the same man who, a few paragraphs earlier, recalls that Algeria has always refused to send troops abroad, that it has never taken part in a peacekeeping operation, that it holds a "non-interventionist" doctrine — and that the 2020 constitutional reform only allows, under conditions, the dispatch of units after parliamentary approval. Re-read his column: he spends his time demonstrating that Algeria does nothing aggressive, then concludes that it is aggressive. It is a self-portrait as a walking contradiction. A diplomat of his generation knows how to read an official communiqué; he therefore knows that the Tebboune–Tiani telephone exchange he himself cites was public. He chooses to ignore it. This is no longer analysis: it is a narrative, written in advance, with an imposed conclusion.

Then comes the showpiece, the one that reveals the true nature of the enterprise: the recycling of the "godfather of Sahelian terrorism." Driencourt writes, with no source, no attributed quotation, no report, that Algeria "was regarded as the godfather of Sahelian terrorism." Regarded by whom? By him? By le360.ma? By Moroccan propaganda? The text offers no answer — because there is no answer. It is an insult tossed in passing, as one tosses a stone, hoping that no one will ask to see the hand. So we ask: show us the report, the investigation, the proof that a single Sahelian terrorist was armed, financed or trained by Algeria. You cannot. Because what is documented is the opposite: Algeria is the country that paid the price of terrorism in the 1990s, that trained thousands of imams in deradicalisation, that cooperates with all its neighbours against armed groups, and that has never needed to invite foreign armies in order to secure its territory. The only "godfather" in this region is the one who arms separatists, buys drones left and right and dreams of extending his influence by credit card — but that, Driencourt will never write, because it does not sell in the columns that employ him.

The funniest thing about this evening column is what it reveals about the man himself. He describes an Algeria that "marks its territory," that "takes back the initiative," that "asserts itself as an African power" with an "offensive and visible line." Let us translate: Algeria exists, it acts, it protects its borders, it helps its neighbours, it carries weight in its region — and that is unsettling. For Driencourt, at bottom, does not reproach Algeria for being aggressive: he reproaches it for no longer being docile. The Algeria of Bouteflika, "all discretion," suited him; the Algeria of Tebboune — which shoulders its responsibilities, modernises its army, secures 1,376 kilometres of border with Mali and 956 with Niger, and answers when Niamey calls on it — that one frightens him. And when a former ambassador is frightened by the sovereignty of the country where he served, he does not publish an analysis: he publishes a caricature, signed with his name, twice a day if need be.

One last thing, because things must be called by their name. The man who writes today that Algeria "supports juntas" is the representative of a country — France — whose armies were driven out of Mali, Niger and Burkina Faso by those same "juntas," after having occupied the region for ten years under the name Barkhane. Driencourt's France supported regimes, set up bases, waged wars — and it was sent home. Algeria, for its part, has never had a base abroad, has never occupied anyone, and it is precisely for that reason that it is still called upon today, whenever it is needed. There is a difference between a power that imposes and a power that helps. Driencourt, who spent his career in the former, evidently does not understand the latter. It matters little: Algeria does not need to be understood by him. It needs to be respected — and that respect he will not obtain by publishing two columns on the same day. He would sooner obtain it by falling silent, and by rereading his own archives: those in which he said he loved this country.