We Investigate Corruption. Swiss Law Calls That a Crime.

We are journalists. That’s our job, our responsibility, and — if Swiss banking law is to be believed — possibly a crime.

Yesterday, we revealed how the bank Reyl Intesa Sanpaolo drew scrutiny from the Swiss Financial Market Supervisory Authority (FINMA) for its ties to questionable clients. The bank is no stranger to controversy: It previously made headlines for helping wealthy French citizens evade taxes, most famously former Budget Minister Jérôme Cahuzac.

In 2022, we published the “Suisse Secrets” investigation, exposing how Credit Suisse held accounts for autocrats, oligarchs, war criminals, human traffickers, and drug lords. The data revealed a blatant failure of due diligence by one of Switzerland’s most powerful financial institutions. The response? Global headlines, public outcry, and calls for accountability — followed by threats of criminal prosecution against the journalists who exposed the truth.

Under Switzerland’s draconian banking secrecy law — specifically, Article 47 of the Swiss Banking Act — when we published Suisse Secrets, we likely committed a crime. Not because what we published was false, but because it was true. In Switzerland, even revealing that someone holds an account at a Swiss bank can lead to up to five years in prison, if that information comes from a whistleblower who broke bank secrecy laws. Sharing that truth with the public? A felony.

Article 47 doesn’t just shield banking information — it criminalizes journalism. It makes whistleblowing illegal. It shields secrecy, not privacy, and encourages silence, not accountability. After Suisse Secrets, U.N. Special Rapporteur Irene Khan called the law exactly what it is: “an example of the criminalization of journalism.”

And yet, the Swiss Parliament responded not with reform, but with a request to make the law even more restrictive.

Let’s be clear: Switzerland isn’t some authoritarian backwater. It’s a democracy. A prosperous one. A country that likes to brand itself as a bastion of good governance and the rule of law. Yet it offers something few others dare: universal financial secrecy, even when that secrecy enables kleptocracy, corruption, or crimes against humanity. 

Over the years, exposés involving Swiss banks like Credit Suisse, HSBC Suisse, and UBS have uncovered evidence of industrial-scale money laundering and tax evasion. The evidence is overwhelming. The problem is systemic. And the response, so far, has been silence — or worse, a crackdown on those who dare to reveal the truth.

Switzerland isn’t protecting average citizens with Article 47 of the Banking Law. It is protecting the global elite — the dictators, traffickers, and oligarchs who use anonymous accounts to hide their money — and with it, their power. Swiss banks, Swiss regulators and Swiss investigators may not ask many questions. But as journalists, we must. And we will.

We helped expose Suisse Secrets, and now, the latest revelations about Bank Reyl. Through leaked FINMA correspondence, we reported what was previously unknown: that Switzerland’s financial regulator, investigated Bank Reyl for alleged “weaknesses in the area of money laundering” and serious lapses in its handling of high-risk clients. It is a rare glimpse into Switzerland’s highly secretive banking sector. 

Despite claims that Switzerland’s anti-money laundering laws are robust, the evidence tells another story. Swiss banks remain a destination of choice for international clientele with murky sources of wealth. According to documents we obtained, FINMA raised questions over Reyl’s handling of accounts connected to a Russian former minister, the son-in-law of the late Uzbek strongmen Islam Karimov and a Swiss asset manager who handled offshore firms tied to the children of Azerbaijani dictator Ilham Aliyev. 

This is all the more remarkable given that Ruth Metzler-Arnold, Switzerland’s former Justice Minister, sat on Reyl’s board of directors.

After we approached Reyl with our findings and questions, the renowned Swiss law firm Schellenberg Wittmer responded on the bank’s behalf with a warning: “It is extremely likely that criminal offences have been committed in order for you to become in possession of such information.” 

It added: “Our client has mandated our firm to file a criminal complaint in relation with breach of banking secrecy (Article 47 of the Banking Act) as well as other provisions protecting trade and professional secrecy.” 

Neither lawyers nor the bank have any evidence that this is true. 

Yet, on Monday, the bank confirmed that it had filed “a complaint against unknown persons with the Swiss authorities” over our queries.

Still, we decided to publish our findings — because we believe they are firmly in the public interest. 

The law firm’s letter is a threat. It illustrates the real danger of Article 47: Many journalists, faced with the risk of criminal prosecution, may choose not to publish at all. That chilling effect is already a violation of press freedom. And press freedom is the foundation of any real democracy.

We believe journalism’s role is to hold power to account, even when that power hides behind polished bank façades and impenetrable legislation. To criminalize that is a scandal. To ignore it is complicity. 

We’re not asking for special treatment. We’re asking for the freedom to do our job. If democracy means anything, it must mean that truth is not a crime. That journalism is not a threat. That public interest matters more than private secrecy.

We will keep reporting — even if Swiss law says we shouldn’t. And if that makes us criminals? 

So be it.