There are the images, the shattered shop windows, the destruction, the clashes, and the violence whose seriousness no one should attempt to minimize. And then there are the words. Those spoken by political leaders, commentators, and rolling news channels. Words sometimes uttered before investigators have even reached their preliminary conclusions. Among them, one expression keeps resurfacing: the far left.
Yet statements attributed to Laure Beccuau, the Paris public prosecutor, serve as a reminder of something that the media frenzy too often overlooks: a political accusation is not judicial evidence.
According to remarks reproduced in a post circulating on social media, the prosecutor reportedly stated that she was "absolutely unable to confirm" that those responsible for the violence in Paris belonged to far-left extremist groups. She also reportedly indicated that most of those taken into police custody were largely unknown to the justice system and had not claimed any political motivation.
If these statements are confirmed in both their wording and context, they introduce a decisive clarification. They do not mean that far-left activists were entirely absent from the violence. They simply mean that the available evidence does not justify collectively attributing these acts to that political movement.
The distinction is fundamental.
For several years, political interpretations of urban violence have increasingly preceded judicial investigations. Whenever a demonstration turns violent, responsibility is sometimes assigned within minutes, on television panels or through official statements. Some blame the far left, others denounce police provocations, while still others point to anarchist groups or individuals who attend demonstrations solely to cause destruction.
Yet a crowd is not a political party. A rioter is not necessarily an activist. A radicalized protester does not automatically belong to an organized movement. And someone arrested by the police is not, by definition, guilty of the acts they are suspected of committing.
Violent extremist movements undoubtedly exist, on both the far left and the far right. Their existence cannot seriously be denied. But systematically attributing acts of destruction to them without specific evidence amounts to transforming a hypothesis into a certainty, and then turning that supposed certainty into a political argument.
This is precisely where the role of the justice system becomes essential. The prosecutor’s job is not to validate the government’s assumptions, nor to satisfy the expectations of the opposition. Her responsibility is to establish facts, identify individual accountability, and gather evidence. The independence of judicial decision-making is one of the fundamental guarantees of the rule of law.
The question then becomes particularly uncomfortable for political authorities. If most of those arrested do not have an identified activist profile, what evidence supports the assertion that the far left was responsible for most of the violence? Specific intelligence reports? Surveillance of certain groups? Public claims of responsibility? Or simply a political interpretation of events?
These questions deserve documented answers, not another round of tough-sounding declarations.
It would, however, be equally excessive to conclude that the statements attributed to the prosecutor definitively clear the far left of any involvement. The absence of a declared political motivation does not prove the absence of ideological convictions. Similarly, the fact that someone has no previous criminal record tells us little about their possible affiliation with a radical movement.
Caution must work both ways.
But this controversy reveals a deeper phenomenon: the constant temptation to turn violence into a weapon of political confrontation. Each side sometimes appears less interested in understanding what happened than in proving that the events confirm its own worldview.
For some, the violence supposedly demonstrates the dangerous nature of the far left. For others, it reveals the failure of government security policies. Between these competing interpretations, the facts themselves risk disappearing behind political convictions.
The reality of collective violence is often far more complex. It may involve politically committed activists, opportunistic individuals, criminals, people swept up in group dynamics, and participants whose motivations are sometimes contradictory. They do not necessarily belong to the same networks or share the same intentions.
None of this complexity excuses anything. Smashing shop windows, setting businesses on fire, attacking police officers, destroying public property, or targeting private possessions remains unacceptable, regardless of the political opinions of those responsible.
Violence does not become legitimate simply because it claims to be revolutionary. Nor does it become acceptable when justified in the name of popular anger or social justice.
But firmly condemning violence does not give anyone the right to invent or generalize responsibility.
Perhaps this is one of the great contradictions of our time: we rightly demand swift action from the justice system while simultaneously insisting on immediately identifiable culprits. We want to know who is responsible before investigations have even been completed. We demand certainty where there may still be nothing more than preliminary evidence.
Political leaders, however, bear a particular responsibility. Their statements are not merely casual observations. They shape public debate, influence collective perceptions, and can contribute to the stigmatization of entire political movements.
Accusing a political movement of being responsible for widespread violence therefore requires a minimum of factual rigor. Without it, political rhetoric about law and order risks losing the very quality that should give it strength: credibility.
One essential question remains: why does the voice of the justice system, generally less spectacular, less categorical, and less immediately useful for political purposes, so often seem to be pushed into the background?
The justice system works with case files. Politics works with narratives. And the media sometimes seem to prefer narratives to evidence.
That imbalance is precisely what should concern us.
The violence in Paris deserves punishment wherever responsibility is established. Victims deserve compensation. Shopkeepers, residents, and police officers deserve effective protection. But citizens also deserve accurate information, as free as possible from partisan reflexes.
The Republic is not defended merely by restoring order in the streets. It is also defended by refusing to allow political communication to replace judicial truth.
If the statements attributed to Laure Beccuau are authenticated, they should encourage greater restraint from both the government and its political opponents.
Because there is an enormous difference between identifying suspects and identifying enemies.
And in a democracy worthy of the name, verdicts must not be delivered by ministers, television commentators, or social media.
They must be delivered by the justice system.
