The ongoing controversy surrounding alleged mass surveillance in Togo has reached a critical stage in the public discourse. Recent revelations from journalist Thomas Dietrich point directly to a highly strategic collaboration: Togolese President Faure Gnassingbé is reportedly working closely with the Yatom family, whose patriarch, Dany Yatom, formerly led a powerful Israeli intelligence agency, through their private espionage services firm. While these claims shine a light on the potentially dangerous connections of the Lomé government, they also raise significant questions about the journalistic approach employed. This unfolding confrontation reveals a dual failure: that of a dictatorial system privatizing its security operations to foreign entities, and that of an immediate-response journalism style that risks weakening its own major disclosures through excessive dramatization.
Faure Gnassingbé: outsourcing repression to the Yatom family
The accusations leveled against the Togolese government transcend mere technological suspicion; they depict a concrete system of covert operations. By allegedly entrusting a portion of the nation’s security and listening apparatus to the Yatom family, Faure Gnassingbé appears to have crossed a critical threshold. Engaging former high-ranking Israeli intelligence officials to control Togo’s public sphere suggests a level of state paranoia pushed to its extreme.
This reported collaboration with foreign private espionage structures serves no national defense imperative. Instead, it aligns with the established pattern of desperate dynastic regimes, willing to go to any lengths to track opponents, monitor civil society, and perpetuate a nearly sixty-year-old grip on power. Following the global uproar over the Pegasus software scandal, this presumed alliance with the Yatom clan indicates that Lomé has institutionalized the surveillance of its own citizens. By placing Togo’s security destiny in the hands of external private interests, the authorities are trampling on national sovereignty solely to ensure their political survival.
Thomas Dietrich: the peril of sensational scoops and digital noise
However, the graver the scandal, the more unimpeachable the investigation must be. This is where Thomas Dietrich’s methodology becomes subject to scrutiny. In presenting such weighty accusations, involving figures from the Israeli security establishment, the journalist frequently opts for the style of social media “clash” and viral buzz rather than the rigorous formality expected of in-depth investigative reporting.
Launching allegations of this magnitude on digital platforms without simultaneously publishing material evidence—such as contracts, financial flows, official organizational charts, or leaked documents—diminishes the impact of the revelation. Known for his lone-wolf justice approach and the constant staging of his own confrontations with African dictatorships, Dietrich consistently flirts with ego-driven journalism. The immediate danger of this method is clear: by prioritizing sensationalism and personalizing the struggle, the journalist inadvertently provides the Lomé regime with a perfect opportunity to dismiss the entire affair as a Western media conspiracy and manipulation. In doing so, he undermines the efforts of Togolese journalists and activists who, on the ground, risk their lives to meticulously document these very abuses with quiet diligence.
Two players in a sterile reflection
Ultimately, the presidential palace in Lomé and the self-styled “Françafrique” reporter mutually reinforce each other. Faure Gnassingbé leverages the direct attacks from expatriate journalists to wave the red flag of foreign destabilization, thereby justifying his security services’ tightening grip. Conversely, Thomas Dietrich finds in the ultra-connected dictator the ideal antagonist to boost his audience and solidify his persona as a white knight of information.
While this duel unfolds under the glare of social media spotlights, a crucial victim remains in the shadows: the Togolese people. Monitored by foreign technologies and deprived of healthy democratic debate, citizens endure the harsh reality of a police state. The struggle for transparency and freedoms in Togo cannot be satisfied by either the secret dealings of a paranoid government or the virtual spectacle of emotional journalism. It demands cold facts, irrefutable proof, and a dignity that both protagonists sometimes appear to overlook.