Politics and the World of Intelligence: How It Works

Politics and intelligence: informing citizens without revealing secrets

Intelligence fascinates because it immediately evokes clandestine operations, wiretaps, undercover agents and classified information. Yet before being a world of secrecy, French intelligence is a public policy governed by law. The Internal Security Code provides that the services act under the authority of the Government, in compliance with the law and according to guidelines set at the highest level of the State. Their general function is preventive: they seek to understand a threat, anticipate its development, inform political decision-making and, where the law permits, help disrupt hostile action before it produces all of its effects. This explains why intelligence is not the same as the criminal police, which establish offences for criminal proceedings, nor the courts, which judge, nor administrative discipline, which sanctions professional misconduct.

This distinction is fundamental to understanding everything that follows. Information may be relevant to an intelligence service without constituting criminal evidence. A person may raise a security concern without being guilty of an offence. An administration may assess whether conduct is compatible with a sensitive position without initiating disciplinary proceedings. Conversely, the fact that information has been collected or that a name appears in a data-processing system does not mean that the person is regarded as dangerous, guilty or permanently monitored. Terms such as “on file”, “under surveillance”, “flagged”, “radicalised”, “security-cleared” or “under investigation” refer to different legal realities. Much public misunderstanding comes precisely from treating them as interchangeable.

The other key concept is prevention. Intelligence is not meant systematically to wait until a terrorist attack, an espionage operation, sabotage, technological theft or organised criminal action has been completed. It looks for signals, cross-checks them, ranks them and places them in context. This does not give the services a blank cheque: action must fall within a purpose provided by law, be necessary and proportionate, and the most intrusive surveillance techniques are subject to specific authorisation and oversight. Modern French intelligence law has largely been structured around this balance between anticipation and civil liberties, particularly since the Act of 24 July 2015.

Framework sources: Internal Security Code, Book VIII; DGSI, “Our missions”; DGSE, “Our missions”.

The “Phrygians”: what is established, what is claimed, and what we do not know

The starting point of this dossier is political, but it must never become partisan. Several press articles reported in 2026 the existence of an informal network of senior civil servants close to La France insoumise, nicknamed the “Phrygians”, said to be working on analyses and preparations for a possible change of government. In June, Le Monde referred to around thirty members according to LFI’s presentation; in August, other publications, relying in particular on the anonymous testimony of a group official, mentioned a membership approaching eighty. These figures describe statements and press reports: they are not a certified administrative census.

The first precaution, therefore, is to separate what we know from what we suppose. The public existence of a network presented in this way is documented. By contrast, there is no exhaustive public list allowing us to verify the identity of all its members, their administrations of origin, their hierarchical level or the reality of every claimed foothold. Nor, on that basis alone, do we have public evidence establishing that members use confidential information, working time, State equipment or administrative prerogatives for the benefit of a political organisation.

The second precaution is just as important: none of the public sources consulted makes it possible to state that the DGSI, the DNRT or another intelligence service monitors the Phrygians as a group, that they are collectively “on file”, or that their existence is treated as a threat to State security. Proximity to a lawful political party, political membership or the private production of ideas do not, in themselves, constitute an intelligence purpose. Any shift toward ethics, discipline, a security inquiry or intelligence depends on concrete facts, the position held and the applicable legal framework.

It is precisely this absence of automaticity that makes the subject interesting. A democracy must protect two things at the same time: the political freedom of public officials as citizens and the neutrality of the administrative apparatus in carrying out its duties. This dossier therefore seeks neither to exonerate in the abstract a network whose internal practices we do not know, nor to attribute conduct to it for which we have no evidence. Its purpose is to determine what rules would make it possible to characterise the facts if verifiable evidence were to emerge tomorrow.

Methodological marker: “reported existence” means neither “proven illegality” nor “proven surveillance”. This distinction applies to the Phrygians as it does to any political, trade-union, associative or ideological network.

Verification sources: Le Monde, 5 June 2026; press publications of 22–23 August 2026; General Civil Service Code; Internal Security Code.

Can a civil servant be politically active? The legal boundary

The first principle is often forgotten: a civil servant does not cease to be a citizen upon entering public service. Article L. 111-1 of the General Civil Service Code provides that freedom of opinion is guaranteed to public officials. This protection is not decorative. It means that an official may hold convictions, vote, join a political party or trade union, take part in public life and, subject to the special rules attached to certain functions, hold political office. The status of public servant therefore does not impose inner neutrality of conscience; it organises the neutrality of public action.

The second principle mirrors the first. Articles L. 121-1 and L. 121-2 require officials to perform their duties with dignity, impartiality, integrity and probity and, in the exercise of those duties, to comply with the obligation of neutrality. That qualification - “in the exercise of their duties” - is essential. It notably prohibits turning a public service into a propaganda instrument, favouring or disadvantaging a user because of their opinions, steering an administrative decision to satisfy a partisan interest, or using the authority attached to one’s office to promote a political organisation.

Alongside neutrality is the duty of restraint. It is frequently confused with a general ban on talking about politics, whereas it mainly concerns the manner of expression. Service-Public explains that it prohibits neither freedom of opinion nor freedom of expression, but requires restraint and moderation; its intensity varies according to hierarchical rank, circumstances, the publicity given to the remarks and their form. A senior official directly involved in implementing government policy will therefore generally be subject to greater restraint than an official without particular responsibility, while a trade-union representative enjoys broader freedom when acting under their mandate.

Another boundary is much clearer: professional secrecy and professional discretion. Articles L. 121-6 and L. 121-7 protect information to which an official has access by virtue of their duties. A political analysis written at home from public statistics, Court of Audit reports and press articles is therefore not legally equivalent to passing on an internal ministry memorandum, a nominative database, an unpublished arbitration, confidential economic information or a classified document. In the first case, the official is using skills as a citizen; in the second, they may be exploiting an informational privilege attached to their office.

Conflict-of-interest prevention must also be added. Article L. 121-5 requires an official to prevent or immediately put an end to situations in which a public interest may be influenced by a private interest of a kind likely to compromise the independent, impartial and objective exercise of duties. Membership of a political party is not automatically a conflict of interest. By contrast, an official handling a case could face a serious problem if they used their position to favour an organisation to which they belong, neutralise a control, access information unrelated to their duties or discreetly steer a decision for the benefit of their political camp.

This is where networks of senior civil servants become institutionally interesting. Preparing reform scenarios or public-policy notes outside working hours, with one’s own resources and from documents available to everyone may fall within civic participation. Using administrative resources, soliciting subordinates during working time, exploiting a restricted database, communicating a non-public document or influencing a decision in the name of a partisan interest would radically change the legal characterisation. Between these two extremes lie grey areas that the hierarchy, the ethics officer and, where appropriate, the administrative judge must assess in light of the facts.

Disciplinary law comes into play when a professional obligation is breached. Depending on the facts, the administration may request explanations, open an internal administrative inquiry or initiate disciplinary proceedings. This chain must not be confused with intelligence. The mere fact that an official is politically active does not automatically give the DGSI jurisdiction. On the other hand, if distinct elements reveal foreign interference, espionage, preparation for serious violence, an attack on the republican form of institutions or another purpose listed in Article L. 811-3 of the Internal Security Code, the matter moves into a different register.

For sensitive positions, a third logic exists: clearance and security. A person may have committed no offence and no disciplinary fault while still being subject to a security assessment because vulnerabilities, relationships, conduct or circumstances are incompatible with access to classified information. The withdrawal or refusal of a clearance is therefore not necessarily a sanction; it responds to a preventive logic. Here again, lawful political activity is not sufficient in itself: what matters are objectively assessable risks linked to the post and the protection of secrecy.

The fairest formulation is therefore this: a civil servant may be an activist, contribute to public debate and even politically prepare for a change of government within the limits of the law; they may not turn public authority, non-public information or the resources of their service into partisan instruments. This is neither political immunity nor a presumption of guilt. It is a legal boundary, and that boundary must be assessed from verifiable conduct rather than ideological labels.

Sources: General Civil Service Code, Art. L. 111-1 and L. 121-1 to L. 121-7; Service-Public.fr, duties of restraint, discretion, neutrality and professional secrecy.

Who does what? The first circle, the second circle and coordination

The public often speaks of “the secret services” as if there were a single organisation. In reality, France has an intelligence community organised in several circles. Article R. 811-1 of the Internal Security Code designates six specialised services, often referred to as the “first circle”: the Directorate-General for External Security (DGSE), the Defence Intelligence and Security Directorate (DRSD), the Directorate of Military Intelligence (DRM), the Directorate-General for Internal Security (DGSI), the National Directorate for Intelligence and Customs Investigations (DNRED) and TRACFIN. Alongside them, the community includes in particular the National Intelligence and Counter-Terrorism Coordination, the National Counter-Terrorism Centre, the Intelligence Academy and the Inspectorate of Intelligence Services.

The “second circle” brings together services that are not specialised services within the meaning of Article R. 811-1 but which may, for certain purposes and under the techniques provided by the texts, contribute to intelligence policy. The list was updated in 2026. It notably includes the National Directorate of Territorial Intelligence within the national police, certain specialised police and gendarmerie units, the Intelligence Directorate of the Paris Police Prefecture and the National Prison Intelligence Service. Their competence is not general: the texts specify, service by service, for which purposes and techniques an authorisation exists. It is therefore misleading to present every police unit as an intelligence service vested with all the powers of the “first circle”.

Above this mosaic, coordination exists precisely to prevent six specialised services and several partner services from working in silos. Modern intelligence is cross-cutting: an interference operation may have a diplomatic component monitored abroad, a human approach on French territory, financial movements, an attempt to capture industrial know-how and a computer intrusion. No single service possesses all sensors or all expertise. The quality of the system therefore depends as much on lawful information-sharing and cross-checking as on the performance of each service considered in isolation.

Reference: Internal Security Code, Articles R. 811-1 and R. 811-2, versions in force in 2026.

The six specialised services: six different professions behind one word

DGSE - Directorate-General for External Security

The DGSE is the external intelligence service. Attached to the Ministry for the Armed Forces, it collects abroad protected or difficult-to-access information, cross-checks and analyses it, and produces strategic intelligence for the highest authorities. Its publicly stated missions notably cover terrorism, proliferation, geopolitical crises, foreign interference and cyber threats. The DGSE publicly states that it sends several thousand notes a year to the Government and employs around 7,200 staff. This figure highlights an often-forgotten reality: an intelligence service is not made up only of field officers. It also employs analysts, linguists, engineers, cyber specialists, technicians, lawyers, security personnel and support functions.

DGSI - Directorate-General for Internal Security

The DGSI is the specialised service under the Ministry of the Interior responsible for internal security. Its public remit includes preventing terrorism and violent extremism, counter-espionage, protecting economic and scientific assets, cyber threats, counter-proliferation and specialised criminal-police activity in certain fields. Its counter-interference mission is particularly important: it seeks to detect operations by foreign States or organisations targeting institutions, companies, laboratories, know-how or individuals. The DGSI itself explains that it produces alert notes for the authorities when economic or scientific threats are detected, while also carrying out extensive awareness-raising among companies and research organisations.

DRM - Directorate of Military Intelligence

The DRM is the armed forces’ intelligence service. Placed under the authority of the Chief of the Defence Staff, it produces intelligence of military interest: assessing military capabilities, understanding the intentions and possible courses of action of foreign armed forces, armed groups, private military companies or organisations liable to threaten French interests. It informs civilian and military authorities and directly supports deployed forces. Military intelligence is therefore not simply about “counting tanks”: it integrates different types of data to build a situational assessment useful for decision and action.

DRSD - Defence Intelligence and Security Directorate

The DRSD is the counter-interference service for the defence sphere. Its mission is to “inform in order to protect”: detecting threats to military and civilian personnel, classified information, equipment, facilities, deployed forces and the defence industry. It notably examines risks linked to terrorism, espionage, sabotage, subversion, organised crime and cyber threats. It also protects the Nation’s scientific and technical potential within the defence perimeter. This function explains why intelligence may have very concrete consequences for clearances, access or protective measures without constituting criminal proceedings.

DNRED - National Directorate for Intelligence and Customs Investigations

The DNRED is the first-circle customs intelligence service. Its public organisation has been refocused on organised crime and economic and financial crime. It works on major trafficking, money laundering, certain tax and customs frauds, counterfeiting, cultural property, sanctions evasion and counter-proliferation. French Customs reported close to 800 DNRED staff in 2024. Its contribution illustrates an essential feature of modern intelligence: the boundaries between national security, trade flows, organised crime, international sanctions and the financing of hostile activities are increasingly porous.

TRACFIN - financial intelligence

TRACFIN is France’s financial intelligence unit and one of the six specialised services. It receives, among other things, suspicious transaction reports from professionals subject to anti-money-laundering and counter-terrorist-financing obligations, as well as information from partner administrations and foreign counterpart units. It analyses, enriches and uses these data in three broad public fields: economic and financial crime, fraud against public finances, and defence of the Nation’s fundamental interests, including terrorist financing and criminal interference. Its existence is a reminder that hostile operations often leave a financial trace even when their initial purpose is political, criminal or clandestine.

Sources: DGSE; DGSI; Ministry for the Armed Forces (DRM, DRSD); French Customs; TRACFIN; Internal Security Code, Art. R. 811-1. # What we know about costs and staffing

Intelligence is expensive, but it is wrong to say that citizens can know nothing about what they finance. The 2025 public report of the Parliamentary Intelligence Delegation states that fourteen budget programmes contributed to this public policy in 2024 and that the overall envelope of payment appropriations from ordinary funds reached €3.4 billion, an increase of 10.26% in one year. The six specialised services employed 16,150 people in 2024, compared with 15,816 in 2023 and 14,912 in 2020. Services covered by Article L. 811-4, often associated with the “second circle”, totalled 4,177 staff in 2024, compared with 4,170 in 2023. These figures do not describe all national-security expenditure, but they provide a public order of magnitude for the core of intelligence policy.

Transparency deliberately stops before certain details. The same DPR report contains passages replaced by five asterisks. The Delegation explains that it is precisely trying to reconcile “citizens’ legitimate expectation of transparency” with national-defence secrecy. Special funds are subject to specific scrutiny by the Commission for the Verification of Special Funds, but their details are not presented to the public like an ordinary administrative budget. This method is instructive: in a democracy, secrecy does not mean that nobody exercises oversight; it means that certain controls are entrusted to parliamentarians, judges or authorised authorities able to know what the public cannot know.

Source: Parliamentary Intelligence Delegation, 2025 public report, Volume I, particularly the sections on 2024 resources.

How does information become intelligence?

Raw information is not yet useful intelligence. The work begins with a question: what threat must be understood, what decision must be informed, what vulnerability must be checked? Information may then come from open sources, reports, institutional partners, human sources, authorised technical systems, or data held by other administrations when a legal text permits transmission. Intelligence emerges from cross-checking: isolated information may be false, incomplete, misinterpreted or deliberately manipulated. Analysts compare sources, look for inconsistencies, assess reliability, place facts in a chronology and distinguish what is certain, probable, possible or unconfirmed.

Once information has been consolidated, it may be placed in a file, analysed, used in a memorandum, lead to a request for additional surveillance within the legal framework, or conversely be classified as irrelevant. The DGSE publicly explains that it collects, cross-checks and analyses information before sending several thousand notes each year to the authorities. The DGSI says that it produces alert notes, for example on economic interference. This documentary output is one of the most important products of intelligence: the aim is not to accumulate data but to transform a mass of information into an assessment usable by a decision-maker.

The notion of disruption must also be understood. In the public vocabulary of the services, disruption refers to actions intended to prevent or reduce a threat. Their nature depends on context and the legal framework: administrative measures, enhanced protection, inter-service cooperation, warning or sensitising a target, diplomatic decisions, judicial action when offences are established, or other responses decided by the competent authorities. The details of certain operational methods are precisely what this article does not seek to describe.

The seven legal purposes governing the use of intelligence techniques

Article L. 811-3 of the Internal Security Code is one of the most important provisions for understanding the legal limits of intelligence. It does not allow someone to be monitored simply because a service finds them “interesting”. The techniques provided for in Book VIII must, in the exercise of the relevant service’s missions, be linked to the defence and promotion of the Nation’s fundamental interests listed by law. These purposes are deliberately broad, but they are not unlimited.

1. National independence, territorial integrity and national defence.

2. Major foreign-policy interests, implementation of France’s European and international commitments, and prevention of all forms of foreign interference.

3. France’s major economic, industrial and scientific interests.

4. Prevention of terrorism.

5. Prevention of attacks on the republican form of institutions, the maintenance or reconstitution of dissolved groups, and collective violence liable seriously to disturb public peace.

6. Prevention of organised crime and delinquency.

7. Prevention of the proliferation of weapons of mass destruction.

This framework explains why the same technique may be lawful in one case and unlawful in another. Legality depends not only on the tool used, but on the service’s competence, the purpose pursued, necessity, proportionality, duration and the applicable safeguards. The CNCTR’s role is precisely to examine requests before implementation and then to monitor execution. A specialised administrative judge may also intervene.

Source: Internal Security Code, Article L. 811-3.

Technical surveillance: what the CNCTR oversees

The law provides for several families of intelligence techniques. At a deliberately general level, they include access to certain connection data, security interceptions, certain location or capture devices, and collection of computer data under the conditions laid down by the Code. These techniques are not interchangeable: their regimes, durations and conditions vary, and not every service may use every technique for every purpose. This dossier does not describe operational implementation, because legal education does not require turning a civic article into a surveillance manual.

The National Commission for the Oversight of Intelligence Techniques, the CNCTR, is the independent administrative authority created by the 2015 law to oversee the legality of these techniques. It acts ex ante by issuing an opinion on requests before they are submitted to the Prime Minister, and ex post by checking within the services that execution complies with the authorisations granted. Its 2025 activity report, published in June 2026, provides particularly instructive figures: 25,332 people were subject to surveillance under domestic techniques in 2025, and 100,813 implementation requests were submitted for its opinion, compared with 24,308 people and 98,883 requests in 2024. Since one person may give rise to several requests or techniques, these two figures are obviously not equivalent.

The distribution of purposes also shows that intelligence is no longer reducible to terrorism. In 2025, prevention of organised crime and delinquency concerned 7,599 people, or 30% of the total, while prevention of foreign interference concerned 6,290 people, compared with 5,458 in 2024. The CNCTR carried out 120 ex-post inspections within the services in 2025. It also reports increased use of certain more intrusive techniques, particularly computer-data collection, in the context of expanding encrypted messaging. Importantly for democratic debate, the CNCTR also stresses its own resource constraints and states that it reached a capacity-alert threshold in 2025.

Source: CNCTR, 2025 activity report, published 25 June 2026.

Information, intelligence note, database, S-file, administrative inquiry: stop treating them as the same thing

The word “file” has become a media shortcut that conceals several different realities. Raw information may be a report or a fact that has been collected. An intelligence note is an analytical document intended to circulate a useful assessment. An automated data-processing system is a database organised according to defined purposes and rules. An S-file is a particular category within the Wanted Persons File (FPR). The FSPRT is a processing system focused on terrorist radicalisation. PASP and GIPASP are used to prevent threats to public security and State security. EASP stores data useful for administrative security inquiries. ACCReD facilitates checks across several processing systems in certain inquiries. These mechanisms may all appear in the same situation, but they are not synonymous.

A “white note” is yet another category. In administrative litigation, intelligence notes may be produced without revealing the sources or the methods by which information was collected. Courts do not give them automatic evidential value: they examine their precision, the factual detail they contain and the extent to which the information can be challenged in adversarial proceedings while remaining compatible with secrecy. A note therefore does not become irrefutable evidence merely because it comes from an intelligence service. This case law is essential for understanding the balance between protection of sources and judicial scrutiny.

The S-file deserves particular clarification. It belongs to the FPR, but being “wanted” in that file does not necessarily mean “wanted for arrest”. Depending on the category and the instructions attached to the alert, the FPR may serve simply to notify services when a person is checked. The CNIL has repeatedly recalled that inclusion in the FPR is not in itself proof of dangerousness or evidence of active surveillance. The DGSI has also explained that the S-file is not a secret scale of radicalisation and does not replace operational monitoring files. An S-file, an entry in the FSPRT and technical surveillance are therefore three distinct things.

“White notes”: when intelligence enters administrative decision-making

The expression “white note” regularly appears in public debate, particularly in litigation involving terrorism, administrative police measures, refusals of access to sensitive sites, nationality decisions or security inquiries. It does not designate a database, still less a category of people. It is a method of presenting intelligence. A white note gives an administrative authority or a judge useful information without identifying, in the version communicated, the service or official who produced it and, above all, without revealing human sources, technical means or investigations whose disclosure could compromise an operation or put someone at risk. A recent parliamentary report summarises the logic clearly: the white note brings necessary information to the administration and the court while protecting sources, ongoing investigations and, where applicable, national-defence secrecy.

This feature explains why white notes are sometimes described as mysterious documents or even as “secret evidence”. That formulation is misleading. When a white note is used before an administrative court, it may be placed in the adversarial proceedings. The person concerned can then challenge the facts stated in it. The judge must not regard the document as true by nature simply because it comes from intelligence. Its content is assessed as one element of the case. Case law stresses precision, factual detail, coherence and the possibility of confronting the note with the applicant’s explanations. A highly detailed note, parts of which are confirmed by other documents or by the person’s own statements, may carry substantial weight. A vague note, with undated allegations, broad wording and no supporting detail may be insufficient.

Decisions of the Conseil d’État illustrate this logic. In 2016, in several house-arrest cases, judges accepted white notes because they contained identified and detailed factual elements and the adversarial debate had not disproved them. Other judgments show the reverse: a measure can be annulled when the note is too old, too imprecise or insufficiently corroborated. In April 2026, for example, the Paris Administrative Court of Appeal set aside an administrative territorial ban where the minister had essentially produced a note asserting that the individual’s presence would constitute a serious threat without setting out sufficiently precise facts. The principle is fundamental in a State governed by law: protecting a source does not remove the requirement to demonstrate the factual basis of a decision.

A white note must finally be distinguished from another use of the expression “white file” sometimes found in memories or accounts of the former Renseignements généraux (RG). A white note is an intelligence document whose origin is anonymised. It should not be confused with an allegedly “empty file” shown to a citizen requesting access to their RG record. The history of access rights to RG records was subtler and, in some respects, more disconcerting: for many years, citizens did not necessarily receive the content held about them. They could simply be told that the CNIL had carried out the necessary checks. That procedural opacity sometimes created the impression that a file could be full even though the person concerned was shown nothing.

Sources: National Assembly, information report on administrative surveillance measures; Conseil d’État, orders of 23 December 2015 and 1 February 2016 and subsequent decisions on the value of white notes; Paris Administrative Court of Appeal, 2 April 2026, No. 25PA00635.

Filing citizens: the very particular legacy of the Renseignements généraux

To understand today’s concerns about political filing, one must return to the former Renseignements généraux. The RG were not merely a service dealing with political violence, public order or certain extremist phenomena. For much of the twentieth century they also performed what was called political, social and territorial intelligence. Their role was to inform the Government and prefects about political life, social movements, trade unions, organisations, influential figures and changes in public opinion. This activity generated a considerable mass of personal files and nominative records. The 2009 parliamentary report on police files recalls that RG activity long included collection of information on political parties and sometimes on the private lives of public figures, and that these “political missions” were gradually abandoned after several public controversies.

The legal framework adopted in 1991 is especially revealing. The decree of 14 October 1991 began by recalling that the prohibition on keeping data revealing political, philosophical or religious opinions and trade-union membership applied to the RG. It then provided controlled exceptions. The RG could retain information revealing political, philosophical, religious or trade-union activities when it concerned persons liable to threaten State security or public security, when it was necessary for certain sensitive clearances, but also when it concerned persons holding or seeking political, trade-union or economic office, or playing a significant political, economic, social or religious role, provided that the information was necessary to allow the Government to assess the situation and anticipate its development.

This architecture explains why the debate about “political filing” is more complex than a choice between two slogans: “the State files its opponents” or “the State never keeps political information”. Historically, French law did allow the RG to record data revealing political activities for certain purposes. At the same time, the same decree prohibited selecting a category of people solely on the basis of such information and imposed access restrictions, periodic review and CNIL oversight. Legally, it was not a general licence to create a database of the political opinions of the whole population. But there undeniably was a substantial capacity to document political life by name, broad enough for democratic safeguards surrounding its use to be a major issue.

The distinction between “opinion” and “activity” is fundamental. A service may state that it does not “file political opinions” while recording that a person leads a local branch, organises meetings, regularly attends demonstrations, belongs to a movement’s security team, meets certain public figures or plays an active role in an organisation. Each fact, taken separately, describes an activity. Taken together, those facts can plainly reveal a political orientation. That is one reason modern law treats political data as particularly sensitive and why control of purpose, proportionality, retention periods and access matters at least as much as the terminology used to describe the data.

Sources: Decree No. 91-1051 of 14 October 1991, especially Articles 1–7; CNIL Deliberation No. 91-083 of 24 September 1991; National Assembly Information Report No. 1548 on police files, 2009.

Could citizens ask to see their “RG file”? Yes, but not like an ordinary administrative record

The Data Protection Act of 6 January 1978 introduced an essential idea: citizens must be able to exercise rights over personal information held by the administration. For ordinary files, access may be direct. For files concerning State security, defence or public security, however, the legislature provided for indirect access. A citizen did not simply go to a police station and ask for a card bearing their name. They applied to the CNIL. A member of the Commission who belonged, or had belonged, to the Conseil d’État, Court of Cassation or Court of Audit carried out the necessary checks, could examine the information and, where appropriate, request correction or deletion.

In the early 1980s this system was extremely frustrating for applicants. The CNIL itself explained in its annual reports that when a file fell within the security regime, the applicant was merely informed that “the necessary checks have been carried out”. That formula did not reveal what had been found and, above all, did not always allow the applicant to know whether a file existed. The arrangement followed an understandable security logic: confirming to a genuinely monitored person that they appear in a file may reveal that they have attracted a service’s attention, that their contacts are known or that an investigation is underway. From the citizen’s point of view, however, it created a considerable asymmetry: the administration could know information about them without their necessarily being able to know the information held by the administration.

The 1991 decree introduced an important opening. For certain categories of records, the CNIL could, with the Interior Minister’s agreement, determine that the information did not jeopardise State security, defence or public security and communicate it to the person concerned. Where the RG held no information, the CNIL could say so. Conversely, if disclosure of all or part of the data risked harming State security, defence or public security, the minister could oppose disclosure. The CNIL would then inspect the record and have inaccurate or outdated data corrected or erased where necessary, but the citizen would receive only the formula stating that the checks had been carried out.

This corrects an image that is often recounted too literally. The RG did not necessarily hand a citizen a “blank file” while hiding a secret, information-filled file behind it. The legal mechanism was more sophisticated: in some cases, no content at all was disclosed. The citizen received a neutral procedural reply. They could therefore feel they had encountered a blank wall even though a file actually existed and had been reviewed by the CNIL. Before the 1991 reform, this lack of information was broader still. This is probably one source of memories according to which a person could ask for their record and see nothing even though information existed.

The oversight was not merely symbolic. The CNIL’s 1990 annual report is particularly instructive. For the Ministry of the Interior, the Commission recorded 401 indirect-access interventions that year. It found 160 cases with no file, 145 files requiring no deletion, 19 records resulting in partial deletion and seven in total deletion, while other cases were still being examined. The CNIL noted that approximately 15% of people for whom a file or record had been created obtained partial or total deletion of information. That shows two things at once: the oversight system could genuinely correct files, but the very existence of deletions also shows that disputed, outdated or unjustified information could end up in them.

Sources: CNIL annual reports 1983–1984, 1990, 1991 and 2000; Decree No. 91-1051 of 14 October 1991, Article 7; Conseil d’État, 28 April 2004, No. 251397.

Why can this opacity create a democratic problem?

Intelligence secrecy is not in itself undemocratic. A service that systematically disclosed to everyone the names of its sources, the elements that attracted attention, the dates of reports or the links it had identified would make part of intelligence work impossible. The difficulty arises when a surveillance or nominative documentation system concerns politically sensitive matters and the person concerned has few means of knowing exactly what has been recorded. It may then be difficult to prove that information is false, out of context, attributed to the wrong person or obsolete. The role of the CNIL and then the courts is precisely to compensate for that asymmetry: they can see what the citizen cannot always see directly.

Political filing carries a specific risk of chilling lawful participation. In a democracy, joining a lawful party, attending a meeting, demonstrating peacefully, signing a petition or publicly defending a belief should not in itself become an indicator of dangerousness. If citizens believed that every political activity automatically left a durable nominative trace in a police file that could later affect a clearance, recruitment or dealings with the administration, some might refrain from exercising perfectly lawful freedoms. The purpose of any processing must therefore be precise: documenting a threat to public order or State security is not the same as mapping the population’s opinions for the convenience of those in power.

The problem is all the more delicate because the boundaries can be semantic. An administration may deny practising “opinion filing” while retaining information about political activities that reveal those opinions. It may also truthfully say that a database is not a database of activists even though specific activists appear in it because of their role, relationships or particular events. Democratic oversight must therefore go beyond slogans and examine the categories of data, inclusion criteria, purposes, persons authorised to consult, retention periods, possibilities of cross-matching databases and avenues of redress. That is where the difference lies between a legitimate intelligence tool and a drift into political surveillance.

Were Front national activists “all on file”? What the public sources actually allow us to say

The memory of extensive monitoring of the Front national by the Renseignements généraux is not without historical foundation, but it would be excessive to write that “all FN activists were automatically filed” without evidence of a general instruction to that effect. The public sources consulted do not establish a rule under which simply holding a Front national membership card automatically generated an individual RG file. The 1991 decree specifically prohibited selecting a category of people solely on the basis of information relating to their political activities. We therefore have to resist turning a broad reality of political monitoring into an absolute assertion that cannot be demonstrated.

Several facts are, however, firmly established. First, monitoring the activity and internal functioning of political parties was for a long time a traditional RG mission. A National Assembly commission of inquiry stated this explicitly in 1999. Second, the mission officially ended under an Interior Ministry circular of 3 January 1995. The parliamentary report states that the Front national, as a party, was no longer to be monitored in terms of its internal functioning. Third, ending party monitoring did not end surveillance of individuals, groups or movements liable to use violence, seriously disturb public order or belong to violent extremism. Within that framework, certain members of the Front national’s Département Protection Sécurité (DPS), and activists linked to neo-Nazi, ultra-nationalist or violent groups, continued to attract the attention of the services.

The 1999 testimony of Jean-Pierre Pochon, then director of the Renseignements généraux at the Paris Police Prefecture, is particularly enlightening. He told the commission that after 1995 the RG were no longer to concern themselves directly or indirectly with the internal organisation of political parties, but remained responsible for monitoring individuals and groups on both the far right and far left who used violence or rejected democratic principles. He stated that the directorate monitored, among others, neo-Nazi and ultra-nationalist groups, skinheads, certain security firms influenced by far-right activists and mercenary networks, and that some such profiles were found within the DPS. The parliamentary report also referred to an RG census estimating around one thousand more or less stable DPS members at the end of 1998. This establishes real and documented monitoring, but not automatic filing of every FN member.

This nuance matters because it protects the credibility of the article. It can be demonstrated historically that the RG conducted political intelligence, followed political parties before 1995, held data revealing political activities and monitored certain radical components of the Front national as well as other movements. There is no need to go further than the evidence. The subject is already sufficiently sensitive and democratically important without adding a sweeping claim that the available public archives cannot support.

Sources: National Assembly commission of inquiry into the Front national DPS, Report No. 1622 and 1999 hearings, in particular Jean-Pierre Pochon; Decree No. 91-1051 of 14 October 1991.

From the RG to PASP and GIPASP: the debate did not disappear; the framework changed

The Renseignements généraux disappeared as a central directorate in 2008. Part of their security mission joined the DCRI together with the DST, the DCRI later becoming the DGSI in 2014. Local territorial intelligence followed another path, passing notably through the Sub-Directorate for General Information and then the Central Territorial Intelligence Service. Since 2023, the National Directorate of Territorial Intelligence, the DNRT, has been responsible for collecting, centralising and analysing intelligence intended to inform the Government and State representatives in institutional, economic and social fields and in matters concerning public order, outside the specific jurisdiction of the Paris Police Prefecture. The longstanding State need to understand what is happening in society has therefore not disappeared. It has been reorganised, specialised and more tightly framed by law.

The PASP and GIPASP files illustrate this transformed continuity. They may contain data linked to political, philosophical, religious or trade-union activities when those data fall within the legally defined purposes of preventing threats to public security or State security. A 2020 regulatory amendment attempted to replace the concept of “activities” with that of political “opinions”, philosophical or religious beliefs and trade-union membership. The Conseil d’État annulled that change in December 2021 because the CNIL had not been consulted on this substantial amendment and ordered the deletion of data that would reveal mere opinions without deriving from corresponding activities, unless a new text was adopted through the proper procedure. This case provides a concrete illustration of the role of law in limiting sensitive filing.

It also shows why the answer “political filing does not exist” is too simplistic. The right question is not whether a computer system officially bears that name. It is what political data may be recorded, for what purpose, under what criteria, for how long, with what search and cross-matching possibilities, and under whose control. Conversely, it would be equally false to portray PASP, GIPASP or the DNRT as instruments designed to record every opponent of the government. The texts link them to public-security and State-security purposes, and judges can intervene where limits are exceeded.

This is perhaps the most important lesson for citizens. Intelligence is necessary to a modern State, but its legitimacy depends precisely on the existence of boundaries it must not cross. Secrecy protects sources and operations. It must not become an argument for removing the whole system from oversight. Indirect access rights, the CNIL, the CNCTR, administrative judges, the specialised formation of the Conseil d’État and Parliament do not eliminate every risk of error or abuse, but they are the mechanisms by which a democracy tries to reconcile two requirements that will always be in tension: knowing enough about threats to protect the community, and preventing the knowledge accumulated by the State from becoming general political surveillance of its own citizens.

Sources: DGSI historical timeline; National Police, National Directorate of Territorial Intelligence; Conseil d’État decisions of 24 December 2021 on PASP and GIPASP; CNIL publication of the decrees concerning PASP, GIPASP and EASP.

T4, T5 and internal designations: caution is required

Labels such as “T4” and “T5” appear in journalistic books, testimony and older descriptions of internal organisation charts. They are sometimes presented as though they officially and permanently described current DGSI units. That is a methodological error. The DGSI does not publish an exhaustive operational organisation chart of its subdivisions, and the organisation of an intelligence service evolves with threats, reforms and priorities. Designations reported at a particular date may have been correct in context and no longer correspond to the current organisation.

In particular, it would be unsafe to state, without a contemporary official source, that “T4 and T5 are the units responsible for monitoring civil servants likely to influence institutions”. The DGSI’s public missions in counter-espionage, foreign interference, violent extremism, economic protection and national security are well established; the existence of specialised internal structures is logical; but assigning a precise present-day function to an unconfirmed internal code would turn a hypothesis into a fact. This article therefore follows a simple rule: when the name of a database, a purpose or an oversight authority is public, we describe it; when internal organisation or a detailed decree is not published, we say so clearly and do not invent the rest.

Chronological landmarks: from the RG to the current system

France’s 2026 architecture should not be read as though the Renseignements généraux of the 1980s merely survive under another acronym. In thirty-five years, missions, databases, oversight and institutions have been profoundly reorganised. The chronology below helps distinguish continuity - the need to anticipate threats - from breaks - the end of institutional monitoring of parties, the rise of oversight bodies, the reform of territorial intelligence and the legal framing of technical surveillance.

This timeline does not purport to summarise the whole history of French intelligence; it locates the transformations directly relevant to this dossier.

The constellation of 25 files or parts of files relating to State security

To avoid turning educational inference into a false revelation, every description should be read according to three documentary levels. ESTABLISHED means that a public text, authority or decree expressly describes the existence or purpose. PUBLIC CONTEXT means that the responsible service and its general mission are known while the details of the processing system are not published. NON-PUBLIC means that exact data categories, inclusion criteria, access authorisations, retention periods or operational procedures are not publicly available. With a sovereignty file, not knowing does not authorise invention.

Article R. 841-2 of the Internal Security Code provides an excellent starting point for understanding the diversity of this ecosystem. In force in August 2026, it lists twenty-five processing systems or parts of automated personal-data processing systems subject to the special litigation regime for files relating to State security. The list is impressive, but it must not be read as “twenty-five secret databases all used to monitor the population”. Some are sovereignty files whose detailed decrees are not published; others are much broader administrative systems of which only the part concerning State security falls under the special regime.

List: Internal Security Code, Article R. 841-2, version in force since 26 February 2026.

1. CRISTINA - DGSI. CRISTINA is the official name of an automated processing system used for the DGSI and relating to State security. It is probably the file most surrounded by speculation precisely because the decree defining its details is not published. The public knows that the system exists, belongs to the DGSI and is subject to specialised judicial oversight, but does not have an exhaustive public description of data categories, feeding criteria, retention periods or all access authorisations. This non-publication is provided for by law for certain sovereignty files. It would therefore be unjustified either to assert that CRISTINA “opens only in the event of a characterised threat” or, conversely, that it automatically contains everyone expressing a radical opinion. The responsible level of certainty is more limited: CRISTINA is a domestic-intelligence tool concerning State security; its detailed operation is deliberately protected; the CNIL and the specialised formation of the Conseil d’État may intervene under the applicable rights and remedies.

2. SECU - DGSE. SECU is a security processing system of the Directorate-General for External Security. Article R. 841-2 lists it among State-security files and public texts confirm that the detailed authorising instrument is exempt from publication. Its existence alone does not justify imagining a database aimed at the outside public. Its name and DGSE affiliation place it within the service’s protection and sovereignty environment, but the precise data and uses are not public. This reminds us that intelligence services also need systems to protect their own personnel, sites, access, procedures and information.

3. SIRCID - DRSD. SIRCID is operated by the Directorate for Defence Intelligence and Security. Its detailed decree is not published. The institutional context is nevertheless clear: the DRSD is responsible for counter-intelligence in the defence sphere and for protecting personnel, equipment, sites, sensitive information and defence industries. SIRCID belongs to the data-processing environment required for those protection and counter-intelligence missions. Describing exact categories of people, fields or consultation rules would go beyond the public record.

4. DOREMI - DRM. DOREMI is a Directorate of Military Intelligence processing system governed by the special State-security regime. It sits within the production and exploitation of military intelligence used to assess the capabilities and possible actions of armed forces or armed groups affecting French interests. As with several sovereignty files, the detailed regulatory framework is not public. Citizens can know its existence, responsible body and general functional context without reconstructing its data schema or collection methods.

5. FSPRT - reports for the prevention of terrorist radicalisation. The FSPRT is much more publicly documented. Created in 2015, it centralises objective information about persons reported in a context of radicalisation potentially linked to a terrorist threat. It supports information-sharing and follow-up among competent services, including departmental assessment groups. Inclusion is neither a criminal conviction nor proof of 24-hour surveillance. Situations can evolve, be reassessed and lead to different levels of monitoring. The DGSI also stresses that FSPRT, political Islam, religious practice and S-files must not be confused.

6. FPR - the State-security part and the well-known S-files. The Wanted Persons File is a broad police operational system containing many categories of alerts. Only certain State-security data fall under the special Article R. 841-2 regime. Category S, for “State security”, is the best known. Being S-filed does not automatically mean being a terrorist, convicted, wiretapped or wanted for arrest. The alert may simply ensure that a service is informed when the person is checked and that specified instructions are applied. The S-file is not the whole intelligence record and is not a universal graduated scale of dangerousness.

7. SIS / N-SIS - the Schengen Information System, for its State-security part. SIS is a European alert infrastructure used by participating States. It is not a secret French intelligence database: it circulates alerts concerning, among other things, wanted or missing persons, refusal-of-entry measures, judicial searches and certain objects. Article R. 841-2 places only certain State-security data under specialised litigation. The presence of SIS on the list does not make every Schengen alert a French secret-intelligence matter.

8. STARTRAC - TRACFIN, for its State-security part. STARTRAC is a TRACFIN processing system, only the State-security part of which is subject to the specialised regime. TRACFIN receives and exploits financial information for anti-money-laundering, counter-terrorist-financing, defence of fundamental national interests and detection of criminal interference. The detailed STARTRAC decree is not published. Its place in the architecture nevertheless illustrates a central principle: money is a sensor. Unusual flows, shell companies, financing routes and economic relationships can reveal links that purely physical or political observation may miss.

9. BCR-DNRED - customs intelligence. This DNRED processing system belongs to the environment of major customs fraud, trafficking, money laundering, sanctions circumvention, counter-proliferation and economic and financial crime. The detailed instrument is not public. A responsible article can explain the mission context and the need to structure information on networks and flows without inventing the exact categories, retention rules or access permissions of the file.

10. GESTEREXT - intelligence of the Paris Police Prefecture. GESTEREXT is cited in Article R. 841-2 and belongs to the territorial-intelligence environment of the Paris Police Prefecture. Its existence is recognised by law and it is subject to the special control regime for State-security data. Since the detailed decree is not public, a technical description would be speculative.

11. BIOPEX - DRM. BIOPEX is another Military Intelligence Directorate processing system mentioned by Article R. 841-2. Public texts establish its existence and affiliation with the DRM while the detailed instrument is exempt from publication. The sound conclusion is simply that military intelligence does not rest on a single database: specialised processing systems may coexist according to the nature of data and missions.

12. LEGATO - Foreign Legion Command. LEGATO is operated by the Foreign Legion Command and classified among processing systems relating to State security. The example is instructive because the ecosystem extends beyond the six main services. The Foreign Legion has particular recruitment, identity, institutional-security and protection issues. With the detailed decree unpublished, the responsible approach is to state its legal existence and responsible authority without extrapolating data categories or decision criteria.

13. ACCReD - Automated Centralised Consultation of Intelligence and Data. ACCReD is particularly useful for understanding administrative “screening”. Created by a public decree in 2017, it facilitates administrative-security inquiries by allowing authorised officials, depending on the legal basis of the inquiry, to query several police or intelligence files. It may record the identity of the person checked, the reason for the inquiry, indications of possible presence in certain systems, additional checks and the outcome of the opinion or decision. Political, philosophical or religious opinion data may be processed only where indispensable to the inquiry, and a category of people may not be selected solely on that basis. A computer “hit” is not supposed automatically to produce an adverse decision; it must be verified and assessed in relation to the function or access concerned.

14. EASP - administrative inquiries linked to public security. EASP is a public processing system operated by the national police and Paris Police Prefecture to facilitate certain administrative inquiries. It may retain data from previous inquiries involving the same person, including State-security data. The text defines such data in terms of activities liable to harm the Nation’s fundamental interests or constitute a terrorist threat to them. EASP is neither a second criminal record nor a general list of opinions; it is a security-assessment tool used when the administration must evaluate compatibility with a sensitive function, mission, access or authorisation.

15. PASP - Prevention of Threats to Public Security. PASP is a National Police processing system for collecting, retaining and analysing information on persons, legal entities or groups whose individual or collective activity indicates that they may threaten public security or State security. The text notably includes terrorism, attacks on territorial integrity or republican institutions, and certain forms of collective violence. Because its purpose is preventive, PASP may concern a situation before any conviction exists. That does not mean every protest or demonstration creates a record: security purpose and legal conditions still have to be satisfied.

16. GIPASP - Information Management and Prevention of Threats to Public Security. GIPASP is the gendarmerie counterpart to this public-security intelligence logic. It collects, retains and analyses information about persons, legal entities or groups whose activity may threaten public or State security. Like PASP, it covers terrorist activities, attacks on institutions or territorial integrity and certain collective violence. The existence of both systems reflects France’s police/gendarmerie territorial organisation while preserving traceability and identified responsibilities.

17. TREX - DGSE foreign intelligence. TREX is a DGSE processing system devoted to foreign intelligence. Its detailed authorising instrument is not published, but its existence is expressly recognised by the Internal Security Code and by the CNIL in indirect-rights procedures. It illustrates the DGSE’s core work: structuring and exploiting information gathered in foreign-intelligence missions to produce knowledge useful to the authorities. The public can know the name, responsible service and oversight mechanism without gaining a map of data, sources or methods that could be useful to an adversary.

18. HOPSYWEB - do not stigmatise psychiatry. HOPSYWEB primarily concerns administrative follow-up of persons subject to psychiatric care without consent. It is not, in itself, a terrorist database. For a narrowly framed security purpose, however, the law provides for identity-data matching with the FSPRT. Where a computer match appears, a verification procedure must establish that it is the same person before further communication. The decree prevents an unverified match alone from creating a record in another system. This must be presented rigorously: having a mental-health disorder or having been hospitalised without consent does not mean being radicalised or dangerous.

19. RINC - digital information collection for cyberdefence. RINC is the Armed Forces Staff processing system entitled “Collection of digital information for cyberdefence purposes”. Its detailed decree is not published, but its public name clearly places it in military cyberdefence. Because cyberattacks can involve espionage, sabotage, conflict preparation or hybrid operations, the armed forces need technical information to understand threats and protect systems. Sources, indicators, infrastructure and exploitation methods are precisely the sort of details a responsible public dossier should not attempt to reconstruct.

20. NATALI - nationality and naturalisation, only for its State-security part. NATALI is a good example of a general administrative system of which only one part concerns State security. Created in 2023, it supports digitisation and processing of procedures for acquisition, reinstatement, loss or deprivation of French nationality and certain appeals. It is therefore not ordinarily an “intelligence file”. Some data used in those procedures may nevertheless have a State-security dimension and then fall within Article R. 841-2’s specialised regime.

21. Prison intelligence file. This file is used within prison intelligence. The detailed authorising decree is not published. The National Prison Intelligence Service belongs to the second circle and works on terrorist threats, radicalisation, violence, organised crime and risks that develop or continue in detention. Its existence is public; its detailed data categories, retention periods and access rules are protected.

22. Processing system for optimising data and information of nuclear-security interest. Authorised by a public decree in 2024, this system concerns the security of nuclear establishments, facilities, installations and activities. It can collect and analyse information on events revealing nuclear-security risks, manage certain access-authorisation procedures and follow clearances linked to national-defence secrecy. The decree publicly identifies several data categories, including identity, contact details, employment situation, certain risk factors and possible presence in various systems. Only data concerning State security fall under the special regime. The depth of screening reflects the exceptional security constraints of the nuclear field.

23. FiMPA - administrative police measures and the Nation’s fundamental interests. FiMPA is the “File of administrative police measures contributing to the prevention of threats to the Nation’s fundamental interests”. Its official title is public but the decree detailing its operation is not. The title reveals its general logic: organising information linked to certain administrative police measures intended to prevent threats to fundamental interests. It would be wrong to infer a precise list of measures or data beyond what is public.

24. PERS-CM - DGSE personnel management. PERS-CM is a DGSE personnel-management system. Its presence on the list is educational: not every State-security file concerns “suspects”. A secret service must recruit, manage, clear, assign and protect its own personnel. Staff handling classified information and sensitive missions are themselves a security issue. The detailed instrument is not public, so the exact checks and data should not be invented.

25. ACCReD MINDEF - Ministry for the Armed Forces security screening. Documentary level: ESTABLISHED. Decree No. 2026-124 of 24 February 2026 creates the processing system, and Decree No. 2026-125 adds it to Article R. 841-2. Implemented by the DRSD, ACCReD MINDEF facilitates certain administrative-security inquiries within the Armed Forces Ministry and processes information collected in that context. The public decree provides for consultation of several systems according to authorisations and need-to-know. Where indispensable, it permits processing of certain sensitive data, including political, philosophical or religious opinions, while prohibiting selection of a category of persons solely on that basis. It also imposes individual authorisations and retention rules. The system shows the growing specialisation of screening within the defence sphere.

Administrative inquiries, security clearances and career consequences

The issue becomes particularly concrete when a citizen works for the State, a sensitive company or critical infrastructure, or applies for a security clearance. The Internal Security Code permits administrative inquiries before certain recruitment, assignment, authorisation, approval or clearance decisions. Such inquiries may also occur after recruitment when a person’s conduct appears to become incompatible with the function or access concerned. Their purpose is not to punish an offence but to assess a security risk. This explains the existence of ACCReD, EASP and, since 2026, ACCReD MINDEF.

Consider a fictional example. An employee has access to classified information and maintains repeated, unexplained and concealed contacts with a person independently identified as a possible intermediary for a foreign intelligence service. No criminal offence has necessarily been established. The administration may nevertheless legitimately ask whether the clearance remains compatible with the risk. A security inquiry may lead to checks, an adverse assessment, refusal or withdrawal of access under the applicable law. That decision is not automatically a disciplinary sanction: it is intended to protect a secret, site or mission.

Discipline follows a different route. A civil servant who breaches professional obligations may face disciplinary proceedings with the corresponding safeguards and graduated sanctions. Intelligence may provide information that triggers or informs a procedure, but it does not replace disciplinary law. It is therefore too absolute to say that “unless there is a characterised threat, ethics control always takes priority and no nominative file can exist without proven misconduct”. Intelligence is preventive by nature and may process information relevant to a lawful security purpose before any conviction or professional fault, subject to legal conditions and oversight.

Political opinions, activism and “entryism”: where is the boundary?

This is probably the most sensitive point. A democracy cannot turn criticism of the Government, voting, lawful activism, trade-union involvement, religious belief or personal philosophy into autonomous grounds for suspicion. Several public texts governing ACCReD, PASP, GIPASP or ACCReD MINDEF allow, in certain circumstances, sensitive data such as political, philosophical or religious opinions to be processed when strictly necessary for the lawful purpose, but prohibit selecting a category of persons solely on that basis. In other words, an opinion is not meant to become a shortcut to dangerousness.

The difficulty arises when an opinion is part of a set of facts relating to a security purpose: preparation of serious violence, reconstitution of a dissolved group, foreign interference, terrorism, sabotage, espionage or organised crime. Intelligence may then take an interest in networks and individuals not because they are “left-wing”, “right-wing”, religious, environmentalist, nationalist or revolutionary, but because objective conduct may fall within a threat defined by law. That distinction is easier to write than to apply, which is precisely why independent oversight and judges are indispensable.

The CNCTR’s 2025 report provides a very current example. The Commission states that it had to consider surveillance requests concerning persons said to be pursuing a strategy of “entryism”. The concept is politically and legally delicate because a strategy of influence may belong to ordinary democratic debate or, in different circumstances, may be connected with foreign interference, a violent organisation or attacks on institutions. Proportionality must therefore be assessed on the facts and lawful purpose, not on an ideological label.

In political language, “entryism” can describe a current seeking to exert influence from within an organisation, an administration or a professional environment. That political definition does not automatically create a legal classification. A network of officials lawfully sharing convictions and preparing proposals may politically be described as organised influence without that being sufficient to establish a threat to State security. For an intelligence service to use techniques, the analysis must return to the service’s powers, a lawful purpose, necessity and proportionality.

The CNCTR nevertheless shows that the boundary is not theoretical. Its 2025 report indicates that requests had invoked “entryism”. The oversight question is not whether the word sounds politically worrying, but whether the described facts genuinely correspond to one of the purposes defined by law. Ordinary democratic influence, lawful activism or seeking a change of government cannot conveniently be equated with an attack on institutions; conversely, an organisation that secretly used administrative positions to serve a foreign power, prepare violence or divert the State from its missions could fall under a very different regime.

The test must remain central: what facts? what lawful purpose? what competence? what proportionality? This method protects both the State against genuine hostile strategies and the citizen against turning political disagreement into a security suspicion. It is especially important during election periods, when there is a strong temptation either to label a network “infiltration” too quickly or to trivialise any use of the administrative apparatus.

Can a person be recorded without having committed an offence?

Yes, in certain processing systems and under certain conditions. This is a logical consequence of the preventive nature of intelligence and administrative inquiries. PASP and GIPASP, for example, concern activities indicating that a person or group may threaten public security or State security. An administrative inquiry may examine whether conduct is compatible with a sensitive function even though no offence has been committed. The FPR itself includes categories that do not all correspond to convicted persons. The statement “they have done nothing, so there can legally be no nominative information” is therefore false.

The opposite statement would be equally false: “the State can record anyone for any reason”. Each processing system has a purpose, categories of data, access and retention rules, and sovereignty files remain subject to oversight even where their decree is not public. General data-protection principles require information to be adequate, relevant and proportionate to the purposes. The specialised formation of the Conseil d’État can order correction or deletion of unlawful data. The democratic question therefore concerns less the abstract existence of files than the quality of criteria, data updating, proportionality and effective oversight.

It is also essential to distinguish “being mentioned” from “being a target”. In an intelligence file a name may appear as a contact, witness, interlocutor, leader of an organisation, potential victim, person approached by a foreign service or simply contextual information. Modern processing systems connect entities and events. A name’s presence alone does not establish the person’s status in the service’s analysis.

How can you find out whether you appear in an intelligence file?

For several police files, citizens may exercise rights with the responsible ministry and, depending on the case, then apply to the CNIL. For intelligence-service files such as CRISTINA, FSPRT, TREX, SIRCID, DOREMI or GESTEREXT, the CNIL describes a specific procedure: the request is sent to the Commission so that it can carry out the checks required by law. The result is not comparable to opening one’s personal administrative file. Systematically confirming whether a person is or is not known to a service could reveal surveillance, a source, an operational interest or the absence of interest, all of which could be exploited by a hostile person.

Litigation may then fall to the specialised formation of the Conseil d’État. Its members hold national-defence secrecy clearances and can inspect documents that the applicant cannot see. The procedure is therefore asymmetrical compared with ordinary administrative litigation, but it enables the judge genuinely to review what secrecy prevents from being communicated publicly. If no illegality is found, the decision does not tell the applicant whether they appear in the file. If an illegality is found, the court may order data to be corrected or erased, illegally collected intelligence to be destroyed or, where appropriate, compensation to be paid.

The arrangement can be frustrating because it denies the citizen the binary answer often sought - “am I on file, yes or no?” - but this is the compromise chosen by the legislature. Citizens do not necessarily receive the secret, but an independent authority and a security-cleared judge can verify that the administration complies with the law. Decisions still being handed down in 2026 show that the specialised formation is in fact hearing cases concerning FPR, PASP, EASP and GESTEREXT.

Sources: CNIL, “Request a check on a police or intelligence file”; Conseil d’État, presentation of the specialised formation and 2026 decisions.

Who oversees the services?

French intelligence oversight is fragmented because no single institution could reasonably control interceptions, databases, secret budgets, legality of decisions, service management and the overall public policy at once. The CNCTR controls intelligence techniques before implementation and after authorisation. The CNIL intervenes in data protection and the exercise of rights relating to certain files. The specialised formation of the Conseil d’État reviews techniques and State-security processing systems in legal proceedings. The Parliamentary Intelligence Delegation scrutinises government action and evaluates intelligence policy. The Commission for the Verification of Special Funds examines the use of special appropriations. The Intelligence Services Inspectorate carries out inspection, audit and evaluation missions. The Court of Audit may also review aspects of management.

The system has a distinctive democratic feature: part of the oversight is public, and another part is secret but institutionalised. Members of the Parliamentary Intelligence Delegation work under national-defence secrecy; judges in the specialised formation can inspect classified material; the CNCTR enters services and checks systems; the CNIL can perform checks that a citizen could not carry out personally. Secrecy is therefore not supposed to be a law-free zone. It shifts control to institutions given access by law to what the public cannot see.

That does not mean the system is perfect. In 2026 the CNCTR itself warned about insufficient human resources and several legal questions not yet fully resolved, notably exchanges between French and foreign services and sovereignty files. The Parliamentary Intelligence Delegation regularly makes recommendations on resources, coordination, changing threats and budget transparency. Democratic transparency does not mean claiming that “everything is controlled” once and for all; it means reading what the controllers say about their own limits and strengthening their capacity as the architecture becomes more complex.

What secrecy protects - and what it must not prevent

Why not publish everything? Because a service whose adversary knew its sources, technical criteria, vulnerabilities, database-access procedures, operational thresholds or agent identities would lose part of its effectiveness. Secrecy protects people, sources, foreign cooperation, methods, ongoing operations and the ability to anticipate. The Parliamentary Intelligence Delegation itself cannot publish information about ongoing operations, operational methods or certain exchanges with foreign services. The law therefore deliberately creates areas where even legitimate public curiosity cannot receive a complete answer.

But secrecy cannot make the very existence of a public policy invisible. Citizens can know general missions, lawful purposes, principal services, part of budgets and staffing, oversight authorities, the existence of many processing systems, the public texts governing them and avenues of redress. They can read CNCTR and Parliamentary Intelligence Delegation reports containing real criticism. This public layer is what this article assembles. Informing citizens about it does not weaken intelligence; it helps explain why some information must remain secret and why those who can access it must themselves be controlled.

The democratic risk exists in both directions. Too much transparency can expose operations, agents and capabilities. Too much secrecy can feed fantasies, obstruct budget debate and make abuse harder to detect. French architecture therefore rests on a compromise: publicity of purposes, legal framework and many oversight mechanisms; protection of operational details and certain processing systems; and access for authorised authorities and judges to what the public cannot see. That compromise must be evaluated continuously rather than replaced by either absolute naivety or generalised suspicion.

Quick glossary: fifteen concepts not to confuse

What about abroad? Six architectures for the same question

Comparing foreign systems helps distinguish what in intelligence is almost universal from what results from political choice. Every State seeks to understand adversaries’ intentions, detect espionage, prevent terrorism, protect secrets, follow certain internal threats and exploit technical data. But the division between domestic and foreign intelligence, the role of police, protection of political activity, authorisation of interceptions, citizens’ access to files, and the strength of parliamentary or judicial oversight vary considerably.

The comparison below deliberately stays at the public level. It describes no clandestine procedures, sources, vulnerabilities or operational details. It relies on laws, official service websites, oversight institutions and selected historical episodes whose significance the States themselves have recognised. The aim is not to rank “good” and “bad” services but to show how different regimes organise the relationship between effectiveness, secrecy, politics and freedoms.

United States: a huge community, and domestic intelligence deeply marked by history

The United States does not have a single service equivalent to either the DGSI or DGSE. Its Intelligence Community is a coalition of eighteen elements including the Office of the Director of National Intelligence, CIA, NSA, DIA, FBI, National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency, National Reconnaissance Office, components of several departments and the intelligence services of the armed forces. Its size reflects both US global power and extreme functional specialisation: foreign human intelligence, signals and cryptology, imagery, military intelligence, domestic counter-intelligence and economic or energy intelligence.

The CIA is primarily foreign-facing. The FBI combines federal law-enforcement powers with a central role in counter-intelligence and national security on US territory. This differs from France because the boundary between intelligence and criminal investigation is institutionally less sharp when the same organisation has criminal and national-security powers. The FBI now describes itself as the federal lead agency for domestic counter-intelligence and coordinates many federal, local and sectoral partners.

American history explains particular sensitivity to political surveillance. Between 1956 and 1971 the FBI’s COINTELPRO programme targeted first the Communist Party USA and later groups including the Socialist Workers Party, Ku Klux Klan, Black Panthers and New Left movements. The FBI itself now acknowledges that COINTELPRO was rightly and sharply criticised for violations of First Amendment rights. This history deeply influenced modern controls on sensitive investigations and the debate over monitoring political or religious activity.

Modern rules do not make every First Amendment-protected activity immune from investigation. They do require a legitimate national-security or law-enforcement purpose and prohibit grounding an investigation solely in lawful exercise of constitutional rights. FBI operational guides stress particular care where investigations may affect freedom of speech, association, religion or the press. This is the American version of the French “entryism” problem: how to investigate a real risk without making lawful political activity an autonomous ground for suspicion.

For foreign-intelligence techniques conducted in the United States or affecting certain persons protected by US law, the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Court, created by FISA in 1978, plays a central role. Its eleven federal judges examine applications for electronic surveillance, searches and other foreign-intelligence measures. Under Section 702, it does not individually approve every foreign target but reviews certifications and targeting, minimisation and querying procedures against statutory and constitutional requirements.

Political oversight is also powerful on paper. The Senate Select Committee on Intelligence, created in 1976 after major disclosures of intelligence abuses, provides continuing oversight of the Intelligence Community, its programmes and operations; the House has its own specialist committee. This architecture emerged from a historical conclusion familiar to other democracies: effective secrecy requires a limited number of institutions able to see what the public cannot.

The US model nevertheless remains in permanent tension over national security and mass data collection. The Snowden disclosures, Section 702 debates, National Security Letters and searches of incidentally collected information demonstrate that the question is never finally settled. The system combines some of the world’s most powerful technical capabilities with a culture of litigation, parliamentary reports, declassification and archival access that can sometimes document earlier abuses with exceptional precision decades later.

Main sources: ODNI and Senate Select Committee on Intelligence; Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Court; FBI counter-intelligence pages and COINTELPRO archives; Department of Justice, Attorney General’s Guidelines for Domestic FBI Operations.

Germany: “militant democracy” and a domestic service designed as an early-warning system

Germany offers one of the most instructive European models for thinking about politics and intelligence. The trauma of the Weimar Republic and the Nazi seizure of power led the Federal Republic to develop the concept of a “militant” or “defensive” democracy. The Federal Office for the Protection of the Constitution (BfV) and corresponding Länder offices are tasked with identifying efforts directed against the free democratic constitutional order, the security of the Federation or Länder, as well as certain espionage and interference activities.

The BfV publicly stresses a point that resembles French intelligence philosophy: it works upstream of the police, before a concrete danger or offence necessarily exists, and describes itself as an early-warning system. At the same time it says its role is not to “spy on opinions”: the object must be an endeavour or activity directed against protected constitutional principles. That distinction does not eliminate controversy, because designating a movement a suspected case or extremist can have major political consequences, but it locates the legal debate around objectives and conduct rather than opinion alone.

Foreign intelligence belongs to the BND, while the Military Counterintelligence Service (MAD) provides protection and counter-intelligence in the military field. Germany therefore resembles France in separating domestic, foreign and defence intelligence, while giving the BfV an unusually explicit constitutional identity: protecting democratic order against actors seeking to use freedoms to abolish those freedoms.

Parliamentary oversight is centred on the Bundestag’s Parliamentary Oversight Panel (PKGr). The federal government must report general activities and particularly significant operations, and the panel may demand further information. The Bundestag also has a permanent specialist administration for intelligence oversight, giving parliament durable expertise rather than relying on elected members without dedicated resources.

Restrictions on the secrecy of correspondence and telecommunications are subject to the separate G 10 Commission, which assesses necessity and permissibility under Article 10 of the Basic Law. Like France’s CNCTR, a specialist body reduces the risk of the executive alone judging the need for intrusive surveillance.

Germany therefore demonstrates that a State may openly observe certain political or ideological movements without claiming to file opinions. But that architecture depends on a demanding constitutional criterion, abundant litigation and permanent oversight. The realistic democratic rule is not “intelligence must never look at politics”, because some political projects may aim to destroy democratic institutions; it is that lawful opinion alone cannot be confused with hostile action.

Italy: a system recentered around the President of the Council after the 2007 reform

Italy’s 2007 reform reorganised the intelligence system around the Department of Information for Security (DIS), the External Intelligence and Security Agency (AISE) and the Internal Intelligence and Security Agency (AISI). Political responsibility is highly concentrated around the President of the Council, while DIS coordinates, synthesises and supervises. AISE deals with threats originating abroad; AISI deals with threats inside national territory. Cooperation mechanisms are provided where cases cross the boundary between domestic and foreign spheres.

Parliamentary oversight is exercised by COPASIR, the Parliamentary Committee for the Security of the Republic. The official Italian system presents it as the body verifying that intelligence activity complies with the Constitution and laws and is conducted exclusively in the interests of the Republic and its institutions. Its bicameral composition and the tradition of entrusting the chair to the opposition seek to create a credible political counterweight in a field where the governing majority naturally has most information.

The comparison with France is instructive: both systems distinguish domestic and foreign intelligence, possess a coordination level, protect secrecy and provide specialist parliamentary oversight. Italy, however, places AISE, AISI and DIS in a chain focused much more directly on the Presidency of the Council, while French services remain attached to several ministries and coordinated at presidential and governmental level. In both countries the democratic issue is the same: the executive sets intelligence priorities, but must not turn the services into political competitors’ surveillance tools.

Italy’s twentieth-century history, marked by political violence, terrorism, clandestine networks and controversies surrounding predecessor services, helps explain the importance that the 2007 reform gives to clarified responsibility, inspection and parliamentary oversight. A new law never abolishes all risk of abuse; it makes political responsibility more traceable and provides an identified control body capable of scrutinising secret activity.

United Kingdom: MI5, MI6, GCHQ and the “double lock” for intrusive powers

The British architecture rests principally on MI5 for domestic security, the Secret Intelligence Service (MI6) for foreign intelligence and GCHQ for signals intelligence and cyber security. The modern legal framework is shaped by the Security Service Act 1989, Intelligence Services Act 1994 and especially the Investigatory Powers Act 2016, amended since its adoption.

One distinctive feature is the “double lock”: many intrusive warrants require authorisation by a Secretary of State and approval by a Judicial Commissioner. The Investigatory Powers Commissioner’s Office (IPCO) provides specialised oversight, while the Investigatory Powers Tribunal (IPT) offers a judicial avenue for complaints about the use of surveillance powers. Parliament’s Intelligence and Security Committee (ISC) scrutinises policy, administration and expenditure across the intelligence agencies.

As elsewhere, MI5’s domestic-security mission necessarily intersects with political phenomena when they become linked to terrorism, espionage, hostile State activity or violent extremism. The legal issue is not whether politics can ever appear in intelligence reporting, but what statutory mission connects the information to national security and whether intrusive powers are necessary and proportionate.

The British model therefore combines strong executive responsibility with a judicial layer and a specialist parliamentary committee. Its recent development reflects the same broader democratic trend seen in France and Germany: powers that operate in secrecy become politically sustainable only if a separate institution can inspect their legality and implementation.

Russia: a highly centralised apparatus between SVR, FSB, military intelligence and interception

Russia’s intelligence architecture includes the Foreign Intelligence Service (SVR), the Federal Security Service (FSB) for domestic security and counter-intelligence, and military intelligence structures within the armed forces. The FSB’s remit is broad and includes counter-intelligence, counter-terrorism, border security and other areas defined by federal law. Foreign intelligence is governed by its own legislation and placed in a strongly presidential system.

Russian law formally provides judicial, prosecutorial, parliamentary and presidential forms of supervision, but the public independence and effectiveness of those mechanisms are harder to compare with pluralist Western models. The European Court of Human Rights’ Grand Chamber judgment in Roman Zakharov v. Russia (2015), concerning the legal framework for secret interception, highlighted structural concerns about authorisation, safeguards and the ability of individuals to obtain effective review.

For comparative purposes, the important point is not to claim that every Russian citizen is subject to political intelligence, nor to assume that formal controls are meaningless. It is to recognise a system in which security institutions have broad powers, executive centralisation is strong and the public visibility of independent external review is more limited. That affects the balance between State memory, secrecy and individual remedies.

China: intelligence, State security and much more integrated mobilisation of society

China’s architecture is organised around a broad concept of national security. The Ministry of State Security (MSS) is a central civilian intelligence and State-security body; public-security structures and military intelligence have their own roles. The 2017 National Intelligence Law provides a general framework for intelligence work and creates legal duties of support, assistance and cooperation for organisations and citizens, while also requiring intelligence bodies to act according to law. The revised Counter-Espionage Law adopted in 2023 broadened and clarified several aspects of the counter-espionage framework.

For a French reader, one striking difference is the degree to which national-security duties are expressed as a whole-of-society responsibility. This does not mean that every citizen is an intelligence agent, but the legal relationship between State, organisations and individuals is more integrated than in systems where intelligence is institutionally separated and external oversight is pluralistic.

Public Chinese law also contains complaint, supervision and responsibility mechanisms, but the external public controls are less directly comparable with the independent administrative authorities, specialised courts and parliamentary pluralism found in France, Germany, the United States or the United Kingdom. As with political filing in France, caution requires distinguishing a potentially broad legal framework from proof that a particular person has actually been subjected to a specific intelligence measure.

Another frequent confusion must be avoided: Chinese intelligence is not reducible to the “social credit” system, and social credit is not a single gigantic intelligence database assigning a political score to every citizen. Intelligence, public security, administrative data management, censorship, policing and reputation or compliance mechanisms are distinct legal and institutional fields that may intersect but should not be merged into a single story.

The contrast is therefore political as well as technical. China favours an extensive conception of national security and centralised coordination in which boundaries between State, party, public bodies and social mobilisation are less impermeable. France, Germany, the United States and the United Kingdom rely more heavily on fragmented powers, plural oversight and litigation before bodies distinct from the executive.

What the international comparison reveals

Despite very different traditions, six constants appear. First, every State separates foreign, domestic and military intelligence to varying degrees. Second, political information is never entirely outside intelligence because espionage, foreign interference, violent extremism and threats to institutions necessarily have a political dimension. Third, no serious system can operate only after an offence has been committed: intelligence is preventive. Fourth, the digital age shifts the debate from nominative files toward large datasets and cross-matching. Fifth, secrecy is universal. Finally, the principal democratic differences lie in the definition of purposes, plurality of controllers, independence of judges and availability of effective remedies.

The most useful parallel with the old RG files may be simple: every State keeps memory. The goal cannot be intelligence without files, databases or notes; such a system would be unable to connect signals over time. The questions are who may place a name in that memory, on what basis, who may consult it, how long information remains, how an error is corrected and which authority outside the service can verify the whole process. That is where safeguards - or their weakness - are found.

International comparison also forces caution with words. “Political surveillance” can describe abuse against an opponent, but also lawful observation of a violent movement or a network manipulated by a foreign power. “Filing” can describe an operational database, archive, alert, mass dataset or simple contextual mention. “Oversight” can exist in a statute without offering the same independence everywhere. Serious comparison therefore requires looking at real institutions behind the labels.

Conclusion: a democracy must know what it is entitled to know

The title of this dossier deliberately combines politics and intelligence. Not because intelligence services should arbitrate political debate, but because their legitimacy is tested precisely at that boundary: protecting institutions without protecting a government against its opponents, detecting interference without criminalising democratic influence, documenting a threat without turning an opinion into misconduct. The maturity of a State governed by law is measured in this balance.

One point is clear after examining the architecture: French intelligence is far broader than the popular image of the “secret service” and far more legalistic than popular culture suggests. There are six specialised services with very different professions, a second circle, coordination structures, thousands of staff, billions of euros in appropriations, techniques subject to authorisation, dozens of data-processing systems, administrative inquiries, sovereignty files, parliamentary oversight, independent authorities and a specially authorised judge. The system forms a continuum from preventing a terrorist attack to protecting a laboratory, from detecting a criminal network to screening a nuclear clearance.

The second lesson is to reject shortcuts. An S-file does not mean “terrorist”. FSPRT does not mean “convicted”. An intelligence note is not automatically criminal evidence. An administrative inquiry is not a disciplinary sanction. Being mentioned in a file does not mean being the target of surveillance. The public does not know every CRISTINA criterion and should not invent thresholds. PASP and GIPASP are preventive tools whose use must remain linked to lawful purposes. HOPSYWEB is not a terrorist database. NATALI is not a secret intelligence file even though a fraction of its data may concern State security. Each term refers to a precise mechanism.

The third lesson is perhaps the most democratic: secrecy does not cancel the right to know; it moves its boundary. We do not need to know the name of an agent in an operation, a human source, a non-public technical method or the detailed structure of a sovereignty file. We can legitimately ask what purposes the law authorises, how many people are surveilled, which bodies oversee techniques, what processing systems exist, how to seek redress and how much the public policy costs. Those are the facts that allow citizens to understand what they finance without demanding publication of information that would make protection impossible.

That is ultimately the purpose of this article. Questions following my earlier dossier on the “Phrygians” showed a healthy curiosity: many readers sense that intelligence has become central in a world of terrorism, hybrid warfare, economic espionage, drug trafficking, cyberattacks and foreign interference, but know little about its institutions. The answer should be neither “do not ask questions, it is secret” nor “anything goes in the shadows”. It should be: this is what the law makes public, this is what the controllers tell us, these are the avenues of redress, and this is the boundary beyond which secrecy is legitimate. A mature democracy does not ask its intelligence services to be transparent about operations; it requires them to be secret where secrecy is necessary and controlled wherever they act.

Main public sources

Sources publiques principales

Les références ci-dessous ont été privilégiées parce qu’elles sont institutionnelles, juridiques ou issues des autorités de contrôle. Elles permettent au lecteur de poursuivre la vérification sans dépendre d’interprétations journalistiques. La présente version ajoute un bloc historique sur les Renseignements généraux, le droit d’accès indirect, les notes blanches et le débat sur le fichage politique. Lorsque le décret d’un fichier n’est pas publié, cette absence de publication est elle-même un fait juridique : le présent dossier ne tente pas de la contourner et se limite à ce que les textes publics permettent d’établir.

1. Code de la sécurité intérieure - article L. 811-3 : finalités du renseignement - source

2. Code de la sécurité intérieure - article R. 811-1 : six services spécialisés - source

3. Code de la sécurité intérieure - article R. 841-2 : 25 traitements ou parties de traitements intéressant la sûreté de l’État - source

4. Code de la sécurité intérieure - EASP, article R. 236-1 - source

5. Code de la sécurité intérieure - PASP, article R. 236-11 - source

6. Code de la sécurité intérieure - GIPASP, article R. 236-21 - source

7. Décret ACCReD du 3 août 2017 - source

8. Décret HOPSYWEB / soins psychiatriques sans consentement du 23 mai 2018 - source

9. Décret NATALI du 3 février 2023 - source

10. Décret du 8 avril 2024 - traitement d’optimisation des données et informations d’intérêt nucléaire - source

11. DGSI - Nos missions - source

12. DGSI - Contre-espionnage et protection des intérêts de la France - source

13. DGSI - Protection du patrimoine économique et scientifique - source

14. DGSE - Nos missions - source

15. DGSE - Qui sommes-nous ? - source

16. DRSD - Renseigner pour protéger : la contre-ingérence défense - source

17. DRM - Plaquette de présentation 2025 - source

18. Douane française - Bilan annuel 2024, présentation de la DNRED - source

19. TRACFIN - Présentation et missions - source

20. CNCTR - Rapport d’activité 2025, publié le 25 juin 2026 - source

21. Délégation parlementaire au renseignement - rapport public 2025, tome I - source

22. Assemblée nationale - présentation de la Délégation parlementaire au renseignement - source

23. CNIL - Demander une vérification sur un fichier de police ou de renseignement - source

24. Conseil d’État - Formation spécialisée : contrôle des fichiers intéressant la sûreté de l’État - source

25. Conseil d’État - Contrôle des techniques de renseignement - source

26. Conseil d’État - décision n° 502995 du 10 avril 2026 (EASP, PASP, GESTEREXT) - source

27. Conseil d’État - décision n° 511283 du 5 juin 2026 (FPR, PASP, EASP) - source

28. Décret n° 91-1051 du 14 octobre 1991 sur les fichiers des Renseignements généraux - source

29. CNIL - Délibération n° 91-083 du 24 septembre 1991 sur les fichiers des Renseignements généraux - source

30. CNIL - Rapport d’activité 1990, droit d’accès indirect et fichiers des RG - source

31. CNIL - Rapport d’activité 1991, droit d’accès et communication des dossiers RG - source

32. CNIL - Rapport d’activité 2000, fichiers des Renseignements généraux et accès indirect - source

33. Assemblée nationale - Commission d’enquête sur le DPS du Front national, rapport n° 1622, 1999 - source

34. Assemblée nationale - Audition de Jean-Pierre Pochon, directeur des RG à la préfecture de police de Paris, 2 mars 1999 - source

35. Assemblée nationale - Rapport d’information n° 1548 sur les fichiers de police, 2009 - source

36. Conseil d’État - décisions du 24 décembre 2021 relatives aux fichiers PASP et GIPASP - et - source / source

37. CNIL - Publication des décrets relatifs aux fichiers PASP, GIPASP et EASP - source

38. Police nationale - Direction nationale du renseignement territorial (DNRT) - source

39. Assemblée nationale - Rapport d’information décrivant l’usage des notes blanches dans les mesures administratives de surveillance - source

40. Conseil d’État - décision n° 491089 du 4 novembre 2024 sur l’insuffisante précision d’une note blanche et le rôle du juge - source

41. CAA Paris - décision du 2 avril 2026, n° 25PA00635, note blanche insuffisamment précise - source

42. Code général de la fonction publique - liberté d’opinion, articles L. 111-1 à L. 111-5 - ouvrir

43. Code général de la fonction publique - obligations générales, articles L. 121-1 à L. 121-11 - ouvrir

44. Service-Public.fr - devoirs de réserve, discrétion, neutralité et secret professionnels - ouvrir

45. Le Monde - 5 juin 2026, première description publique des « Phrygiens » et effectif alors annoncé - ouvrir

46. CNCTR - Rapport d’activité 2025, contrôle des techniques et problématique de l’« entrisme » - ouvrir

47. Décret n° 2026-124 du 24 février 2026 portant création d’ACCReD MINDEF - ouvrir

48. Décret n° 2026-125 du 24 février 2026 modifiant l’article R. 841-2 du Code de la sécurité intérieure - ouvrir

49. États-Unis - Senate Select Committee on Intelligence, Intelligence Community Elements - ouvrir

50. États-Unis - Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Court, rôle et procédures - ouvrir

51. États-Unis - Senate Select Committee on Intelligence, mission de contrôle - ouvrir

52. États-Unis - FBI Vault, COINTELPRO et reconnaissance historique des atteintes au Premier amendement - ouvrir

53. États-Unis - FBI, Domestic Investigations and Operations Guide (version 2024 publiée au Vault) - ouvrir

54. Allemagne - BfV, FAQ sur la protection de la Constitution et le rôle d’alerte précoce - ouvrir

55. Allemagne - Bundestag, organes de contrôle du renseignement : PKGr et G 10 Commission - ouvrir

56. Italie - Sistema di informazione per la sicurezza della Repubblica, architecture officielle - ouvrir

57. Italie - Loi n° 124/2007 et missions de DIS, AISE et AISI - ouvrir

58. Royaume-Uni - MI5, cadre juridique, pouvoirs et contrôle - ouvrir

59. Royaume-Uni - SIS/MI6, missions et cadre légal - ouvrir

60. Royaume-Uni - GCHQ, cadre juridique - ouvrir

61. Royaume-Uni - Intelligence and Security Committee of Parliament, contrôle et recours - ouvrir

62. Russie - SVR, loi fédérale sur le renseignement extérieur - ouvrir

63. Russie - FSB, loi fédérale sur l’activité opérationnelle de recherche - ouvrir

64. Russie - Cour européenne des droits de l’homme, Roman Zakharov c. Russie, 2015 - ouvrir

65. Chine - Assemblée populaire nationale, loi nationale sur le renseignement (2017) - ouvrir

66. Chine - Assemblée populaire nationale, loi révisée sur le contre-espionnage (2023) - ouvrir

FIN DU DOSSIER