A certain unease is hanging over the corridors of Matignon, the French Prime Minister’s official residence. Suicides and power

What is happening at the Hôtel Matignon, the official residence of the French Prime Minister, at 57 Rue Varenne, in Paris’s affluent 7th arrondissement? On 22 June, someone pinned a sheet of paper to the door of a meeting room with the handwritten words ‘Meeting in progress’. A closed door, a meeting – nothing particularly unusual – were it not for the fact that, on that very day, within the historic seat of French power, a report was being discussed on the psychological distress that had taken hold within those very offices. A tangible sense of unease has long been lingering in those corridors, but bringing it out into the open is, in itself, a sensational move. It is known, but not spoken of, until the cup runs over.

The facts: between October 2025 and March 2026, within the ranks of the Services du Premier ministre (SPM) – the security apparatus of the Prime Minister – two officers took their own lives, two others attempted to do so but failed, and one person was found dead in the toilets under suspicious circumstances. Seven months, five tragedies. On 25 June, a staff representative filed a complaint with the Paris Public Prosecutor, calling for a preliminary investigation into workplace bullying and endangering the lives of others. The public prosecutor’s office has taken action, albeit with the utmost secrecy. The only person speaking out so far, albeit cryptically, is a lawyer, Christelle Mazza, who represents one of the Service’s employees who survived the suicide attempt. “From the moment such signs emerge, it is essential to listen and investigate…”, she said, leaving the sentence unfinished. These words allude to an environment in which those in positions of authority are under exceptional pressure due to the presence of “an uncompromising management”, a “total loss of reliable points of reference”, and a culture that rewards “competition amongst officers”.

Neither Matignon nor Prime Minister Sébastien Lecornu’s entourage have so far responded to the press’s questions on the matter. One detail that brings the picture into sharper focus is that Mazza is not just any labour lawyer. She is the very same lawyer who, in 2019, handled the France Télécom case – the ruling that first recognised the offence of ‘institutional bullying’ in France, convicting former CEO Didier Lombard for a corporate policy deemed by the court to be partly responsible for a series of suicides among the company’s employees. And she is the same criminal lawyer who has worked on cases of workplace distress in public hospitals. If she is now using this terminology in relation to Matignon, those words should not be taken as hyperbole, but as an assessment based on a precise yardstick.

The backdrop is a scenario familiar to anyone who follows French politics: from June 2024 – following the dissolution of the National Assembly ordered by Macron – to the present day, Matignon has seen a succession of four short-lived prime ministers: Attal, Barnier, Bayrou and Sébastien Lecornu, who was recalled and reappointed last September after resigning for the first time, and who has been forced to walk a tightrope ever since. The arrival of each new prime minister brings with it a change of cabinet, priorities and rhetoric, within which every civil servant must rebuild their relationships, identify the keys to earning trust and, above all, prove their indispensability.

Essentially, stability – which should be guaranteed by the state apparatus – is, in this whirlwind, turned on its head and transformed into chronic attrition, the brunt of which is borne first and foremost by the professional staff working within a complex environment such as the office of the head of government. Curiously, then, in the very same week that the Matignon affair erupted, Le Figaro reported another story of power and submission: that of Antoine Vey, a 42-year-old Parisian criminal lawyer who has defended high-profile figures such as Julian Assange and Jérôme Cahuzac, the Minister for the Economy who was brought down in 2012 by a financial scandal. On 9 July, Vey came under investigation for workplace bullying against eight former colleagues and two former employees. The judges accuse him of “inconsistent management of his office’s operations, a destabilising work organisation, vexatious or humiliating remarks directed at subordinates, and demanding 24/7 availability”. Vey claims to know nothing of this, insisting instead that his fifteen-year career has been characterised by “benevolence”. However, there appear to be testimonies that paint a picture of him that is, to say the least, compromising.

These are two worlds apart – a major government department and a renowned law firm – which, in the same week, describe the same manifestation of power, based on oppression and fear, obsessive control, demanded sacrifices, total availability as proof of loyalty, and verbal humiliation. It is a scenario which, in 2026, France has the legal tools to investigate – mental health is, after all, this year’s Grande Cause Nationale – even when the institutions under scrutiny are those that are supposed to embody the authority of the state or the administration of justice. There remains the detail of the handwritten sign hanging on a door at Matignon: ‘meeting in progress’, photographed on the day when, inside, attempts were being made to work out how to prevent such disasters from happening again.