Every week, it seems, a new scandal is unearthed by the upstart, online newspaper Mediapart. The most recent bomb was that President Francois Hollande's budget minister was evading taxes when he was supposed to be cracking down on tax cheats. After vehemently denying the allegations, in the face of overwhelming evidence, Jerome Cahuzac was forced to resign.
Hollande issued an embarrassing national apology while Mediapart kept racking up new subscribers. In its five-year existence, the site has unveiled stories about tax evasion, illegal campaign financing and shady business dealings between government officials and French tycoons.
The cases are now under investigation, including allegations that former President Nicolas Sarkozy took illegal campaign contributions from France's richest woman, L'Oreal heiress Liliane Bettencourt, and former Libyan leader Moammar Gadhafi.
Edwy Plenel, head of Mediapart, says much of the newspaper's success is due to what he calls the absence of a strong democratic culture in France.
"We have a very big opacity, very secret culture of all the powers, political powers, financial powers," he says. "Mediapart, during the last five years, revealed all the big stories against this culture of secret."
Plenel says the French, unlike the Americans, don't have laws such as the Freedom of Information Act, which forces the government to release documents.
Plenel, who once presided over the newspaper Le Monde, founded Mediapart with 5 million euros and a commitment to pay 30 journalists a living salary for three years. He says no one thought the site would survive.
Turning A Profit
Today, Mediapart operates from a newsroom in the Bastille area of Paris. It has 46 full-time investigative journalists and 75,000 subscribers who pay 90 euros ($117) for a one-year subscription. Mediapart cleared $1.5 million in profit last year.
The feisty startup is beating the more established newspapers like Le Figaro and Liberation, which are limping along with the help of government subsidies but just half the number of subscribers.
Media sociologist Divina Frau Meigs says that for the first time in a long time, a newspaper is setting, not following, the national agenda.
"He's playing a sort of independent watchdog role," she says of Plenel and Mediapart. "So he's denouncing whatever is not working in the French system, and there are quite a few things and quite a few problems in France in terms of transparency of politics."
The Internet allows Mediapart to use extensive data mining. The site backs up its articles with dozens of pages of related archive material.
Plenel says that to his surprise, people read even lengthy pieces, and they comment on them. He says there is a dialogue between Mediapart and its community of subscribers. That flies in the face of the advice he was given at the outset: that the information had to be short, flashy and free, or nobody would bother reading it.
"Internet is a chance for journalism, not the death, a chance," he says. "Because you can organize better journalism more sources, more documented, deeper journalism."
Plenel says the site is shooting for 100,000 subscribers, but in its quest to get there, it will never accept advertising. And he calls entertainment and its opinion pieces the real enemies of good journalism.
"My opinion against your opinion, my point of view against your point of view, my religion against your religion, my community that's the sort of disorder of opinion," he says. "A democratic culture needs information."
Solid, original information and good journalism have value, Plenel says. His site shows that people are ready to pay for that.