He who was once a tenant in the luxurious Elysee Palace, among banquets, red carpets and designer furniture, today sleeps in a nine-meter cell. The contrast must, without a doubt, be a blow to the liver.
Last Tuesday, Nicolas Sarkozy entered the Santé prison, located in the Montparnasse neighborhood of Paris, sentenced to serve five years in prison for the crime of conspiracy, amid accusations of illicit financing by the late Libyan dictator Muammar Gaddafi of his 2007 presidential campaign, in which he defeated the socialist Ségolène Royal.
Upon arrival at the prison, Sarkozy was subjected to the usual procedures: fingerprinting, photo, medical check and cell assignment. As expected, the former president was placed in the “vulnerable people’s wing”, a special section reserved for inmates who require enhanced security measures, such as former police officers, judges or public figures. The guards prefer another name that plays between glamor and irony: “the VIP neighborhood.”
Sarkozy’s individual cell has a bed, a desk, shelves, a sink, toilet and a small private shower, a rare luxury in French prisons. The day begins at seven in the morning, with an almost military rhythm: the wake-up call by officials to count the prisoners. He has coffee with bread and butter for breakfast, like the rest of the inmates.
The rest of the day is spent reading, writing, and doing light exercise. You have the right to one hour a day of walking alone in a small interior patio. Lunches and dinners are served in your cell, and phone calls are limited and supervised. He can be visited by his wife, Carla Bruni, as well as his lawyers, in a special room separated by security glass.
The French Minister of the Interior, Laurent Nuñez, confirmed having authorized an isolation device for Sarkozy, which corresponds to his status as former President of the Republic, and which protects him from the strong threats he has already received in prison. This week, a video recorded inside the La Santé prison circulated on social networks, in which three prisoners utter screams, insults and death threats against the former president. All three are in special custody. A search of cell phones was also ordered.
Sarkozy remains, then, in absolute isolation and has no contact with other inmates. Any interaction could lead to aggression. Two police officers have been assigned to adjacent cells to ensure their protection, a measure that has been criticized by those who denounce prison overcrowding. In La Santé, the occupancy rate of the 757 cells is 191%, that is, almost double. The cells that were intended to house one person now – with the installation of bunk beds – house two.
According to prison sources, Sarkozy requested entry with three books: The Count of Monte Cristo, a biography of Jesus Christ and an essay on political leadership. His daily life consists of isolation and reading. But above all, a loneliness that is totally removed from the political and media hyperactivity that marked his life for decades.
Each trip within the prison – whether for a medical check-up or a family visit – follows a special security protocol, designed jointly by the Ministries of the Interior and Justice. However, the latter assures that the former president is not offered preferential conditions: “He must be protected, not privileged,” declared an official spokesperson. But beyond the statements that seek to reaffirm the famous French “égalité”, Sarkozy’s imprisonment represents both a logistical and symbolic challenge for the prison administration, which must do a real juggling act to maintain the balance between security and normality.
In this tense context, the Minister of Justice himself, Gérald Darmanin, has announced his intention to visit Sarkozy in prison. The adverse reactions have not been long in coming. Rémy Heitz, attorney general of the Court of Cassation, stated that a visit by the minister could “attack the independence of the judges.”
It is estimated that the former tenant of the Elysée will remain “a minimum of three weeks to a month” in prison, according to his lawyer, Christophe Ingrain, at the doors of the Santé, on the day of his admission.
The Paris Court of Appeal has two months to rule on the request for provisional release presented by his defense. During that time, the former president assures that he will write the first pages of his next book, where he will recount his days in prison and his judicial process, which he continues to consider unfair.