Last weekend, the most intriguing news to captivate the world in months dropped, sounding like the plot to a new Ocean’s Eleven film or, more personally to me, a new Six of Crows book. On the morning of the 19th of October 2025, four masked robbers carried out what might be the fastest art heist in history with nothing but a mechanical lift, gloves, a circular saw and a couple of scooters. The thieves broke into the Louvre’s Gallery of Apollo, smashed through the unreinforced display cases and vanished within eight minutes – taking with them eight priceless French royal jewels worth an estimated €88 million. The question is: how did the world’s most visited museum get looted in broad daylight in such record time?
By 9:34am (barely half an hour after the museum’s opening), the gang were already weaving their way to freedom through the narrow Parisian streets; a scenario I’d be tempted to storyboard to Taylor Swift’s ‘Getaway Car’. The thieves parked a truck with a mechanical basket lift, roughly 180 metres from the Louvre’s main entrance. They then sent their two best to scale a balcony near the River Seine, rather cinematically, the two sliced through the window with a battery-powered disc cutter and stormed into the gallery, sending the unarmed guards running scared and leaving the jewels completely exposed. In precisely three minutes and fifty-seven seconds, the thieves had broken into the display cases, stuffed the jewellery into their bags, and escaped back through the window before police could even arrive. They even attempted to set fire to their tools before speeding away on their Yamaha TMAX scooters, vehicles that can easily reach over 100 miles per hour, a scene that would be right at home in Sturges’ The Great Escape.
The stolen treasures include a tiara worn by Empress Eugénie (wife of Napoleon III); a necklace and earrings belonging to Marie-Louise (the Duchess of Parma); and several ornaments from Queen Marie-Amélie, including a large jewel-encrusted bow and crown. During their swift getaway, the thieves dropped a diadem worn by Princess Eugénie. The tiara was found on the pavement near the balcony, proving that even cat burglar maestros have their clumsy moments. Due to the irreplaceable nature of these items, French President Emmanuel Macron is calling this heist an attack on France’s heritage itself, as by now the jewels have likely already been melted down in exchange for a large sum of cash. Macron isn’t wrong about the cultural loss this crime has caused, but perhaps it’s also an attack on something far less romantic.
This incident, alongside the theft of Bronze Age gold jewellery from the St Fagan’s National Museum of History in Cardiff earlier this month, is raising concerns about the quality of cultural security across Europe. In an increasingly digitalised world, the arts are suffering from chronic underfunding as visitor numbers still haven’t returned to pre-COVID levels. Art and history institutions are being forced to shift funding towards immersive exhibitions – such as the Van Gogh Experience – that focus on aesthetic spectacle rather than historical substance. Museums now rely on dwindling grants and temporary exhibitions to keep the doors open, leaving little room to focus on preservation and protection of existing artefacts. Despite its global prestige and record attendance, even the Louvre is struggling with its ageing infrastructure and reduced government support – factors that likely left it vulnerable to a circular saw and good planning. The Gallery of Apollo had no security cameras, no reinforced display glass or windowpanes, and only a small team of unarmed guards who were easily chased out of the gallery. Although an alarm sounded in the control room, staff are unsure how widely this would have been heard throughout the museum. It’s rather difficult not to see the irony of an exhibition celebrating royal opulence left utterly defenceless due to bureaucratic austerity.
The Louvre is no stranger to robbery, with smaller heists taking place throughout the 20th century, the most notorious being the Mona Lisa in 1911. Stolen by employee Vincenzo Peruggia, he smuggled the painting out by hiding in the museum, then walking out with the painting underneath his clothes. Somehow, though, the Louvre has never fully reinforced its defences. So, one must question if the thieves of 2025 didn’t so much outwit the system but rather exploit its incompetencies. So, while the state mourns its heritage, the internet is commenting on the hilarity of how easily these criminals have stolen priceless artefacts from right underneath the world’s nose. It’s difficult not to be at least a little impressed at how seamlessly this heist has been pulled off, though one can’t help but wonder if this is one of the first of many examples of what happens when art becomes an afterthought rather than a priority of national security and tourism.
Editor: Lily Orton