They split invoices to avoid board approval—a system built to spend without oversight
In the early weeks of 2021, Catalan police crossed the threshold of one of football's most storied institutions, arriving not to celebrate a trophy but to detain the men who had run it. The arrests of four FC Barcelona executives, including former president Josep Maria Bartomeu, marked the culmination of a year-long unraveling of 'Barçagate'—an alleged scheme in which the club paid a private company to weaponize social media against its own players, board critics, and rivals. What began as a radio report in February 2020 had grown into a formal criminal investigation, raising questions not merely about institutional corruption, but about the lengths to which those entrusted with a public trust will go to preserve their own power.
- Four senior Barcelona executives, including the former club president, were arrested in simultaneous raids on club offices and private homes in March 2021.
- At the heart of the scandal: roughly one million euros per year allegedly paid to a firm called I3 Ventures to run fake social media accounts smearing players like Messi and Piqué, as well as internal critics of the board.
- Invoices were deliberately split below the 200,000-euro threshold to avoid triggering board oversight—a financial sleight of hand that auditors later confirmed was intentional.
- The club's own compliance officer, who conducted an internal audit exposing the irregularities, was suspended and then fired, deepening suspicions of a cover-up from within.
- Facing a member-driven censure vote backed by over 20,000 signatures, Bartomeu and his entire board resigned in October 2020—but the criminal investigation pressed on regardless.
- What started as an internal reputational crisis has landed as a potential criminal matter involving charges of disloyal administration and corruption.
On a Monday morning in March 2021, Catalan police arrived at FC Barcelona's offices and at the homes of four club executives. The detainees—former president Josep Maria Bartomeu, his closest aide Jaume Masferrer, general director Óscar Grau, and head of legal services Román Gómez-Ponti—were at the center of what had come to be known as Barçagate.
The scandal had surfaced more than a year earlier, when a radio program reported that since late 2017, Barcelona had been paying a company called I3 Ventures to run a coordinated campaign of online defamation. The targets were striking: board members who had fallen out of favor with Bartomeu, rival candidates for club leadership, and even star players including Lionel Messi and Gerard Piqué. The arrangement was worth roughly a million euros annually, but the payments had been deliberately fragmented—each invoice kept below 200,000 euros to avoid triggering the board's approval process.
Barcelona initially denied wrongdoing while acknowledging I3 Ventures as a vendor, and quickly terminated the contract. But the internal fallout was swift. At an emergency board meeting days after the story broke, a faction of executives demanded Bartomeu's resignation. He refused, suspended Masferrer, and commissioned PricewaterhouseCoopers to conduct an external audit. The investigation only widened the wound: a newspaper soon revealed that I3's parent company had operated dozens of fake Twitter accounts running the same campaigns.
In April, Bartomeu moved against his internal critics, forcing the resignations of four board members who had challenged him. Two others followed voluntarily. All six handed documents to a notary that were never made public. Then, in a particularly damaging turn, the club's own compliance officer—who had conducted an internal audit of the affair—was suspended in June and fired in July.
The external audit, released that same month, confirmed what investigators had suspected: Masferrer had personally shaped the social media content, the club had overpaid for the services, and invoices had been deliberately split to circumvent controls. Barcelona's leadership continued to deny having contracted for defamation, framing everything as administrative error.
By October, with a formal judicial investigation underway and police still waiting on documents the club had not provided, Piqué publicly criticized Bartomeu. Days later, facing a censure referendum backed by more than 20,000 member signatures, Bartomeu and his entire board resigned. The investigation, however, did not. When the arrests came in March 2021, what had begun as an institutional embarrassment had become a criminal matter.
On a Monday morning in March 2021, Catalan police arrived at the offices of FC Barcelona and at the homes of four club executives. They were there to make arrests in connection with a scandal that had been unfolding for more than a year—a scheme, investigators believed, to use social media to attack and defame people who stood in the way of the club's leadership.
The detainees were Josep Maria Bartomeu, the club's former president; Jaume Masferrer, his closest aide; Óscar Grau, the general director; and Román Gómez-Ponti, head of legal services. The case had a name by then: Barçagate. It began on a February morning in 2020 when a radio program reported that since late 2017, Barcelona had been paying a company called I3 Ventures to run what amounted to a reputation-destruction operation. The company, owned by Argentine businessman Carlos Ibáñez, allegedly controlled at least six Facebook accounts that attacked and discredited people and organizations connected to the club—board members who weren't loyal to Bartomeu, rival candidates, even players like Lionel Messi and Gerard Piqué.
The arrangement was worth roughly a million euros per year, according to the reporting. But there was a mechanism to hide it. The invoices were split into pieces, each one kept below 200,000 euros, small enough to avoid triggering the board's approval process. The club's leadership had essentially built a system to spend money without oversight, and that money went to attack its own players and executives.
Within hours of the story breaking, Barcelona issued a statement denying involvement while admitting that I3 Ventures was indeed a vendor. The club promised to terminate the contract if any wrongdoing was proven. The next day, it did. But the damage inside the organization was already spreading. At an emergency board meeting two days after the initial report, a faction of executives demanded answers from Bartomeu and called for him to step down and hold early elections. He refused the first demand but suspended Masferrer without pay pending an external audit. He also commissioned PricewaterhouseCoopers to investigate.
Over the following weeks, the scandal deepened. A newspaper revealed that Nicestream, the parent company of I3 Ventures, had operated dozens of fake Twitter accounts running the same smear campaigns. In April, Bartomeu moved against his critics on the board, demanding the resignations of four executives who had challenged him: Emili Rousaud, Enrique Tombas, Josep Pont, and Silvio Elías. They resigned, and two others—Maria Teixidor and Jordi Calsamiglia—followed. All six turned over documents to a notary that were never made public.
By summer, the internal reckoning had turned brutal. The club's compliance officer, Noelia Romero, who had conducted an internal audit of the affair, was first suspended in June and then fired in July. The external audit, released in early July, confirmed what investigators suspected: Masferrer had actively shaped the social media content, the club had overpaid for the services, and invoices had been deliberately fragmented to bypass controls. Yet Barcelona's leadership continued to deny that it had contracted for defamation services at all, characterizing the whole thing as administrative errors.
Meanwhile, a judge in Barcelona had opened a formal investigation. By October, the police were still demanding documents the club had not provided. That same month, Gerard Piqué, one of the players whose reputation the club had allegedly tried to damage, publicly criticized Bartomeu. On October 27, facing a censure vote that had gathered more than 20,000 signatures from club members—enough to force a referendum—Bartomeu and his entire board resigned before the vote could take place. The investigation, however, continued. By March 2021, when the arrests came, the case had moved from internal scandal to criminal matter.
Citações Notáveis
Barcelona admitted I3 Ventures was a vendor but denied contracting for defamation services, characterizing the matter as administrative errors— Club statement and external audit response
Gerard Piqué publicly criticized Bartomeu in October 2020, one of the players whose reputation the club had allegedly tried to damage— Gerard Piqué, in interview with La Vanguardia
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why would a football club spend a million euros a year to attack its own players?
Because those players, especially Messi, represented a threat to the president's control. Bartomeu needed to consolidate power, and anyone who questioned him—board members, journalists, even the club's own stars—became a target.
How did they hide the payments?
They split the invoices. Each one stayed below 200,000 euros, which meant they never had to go to the full board for approval. It was a deliberate workaround of the club's own governance.
What made this unravel?
A radio program broke the story in February 2020. Once it was public, Barcelona had to act fast—they terminated the contract within a day. But by then, the board was fracturing. People who'd been silent started demanding answers.
Did Bartomeu try to stay in power?
He tried. He suspended Masferrer, commissioned an audit, and when board members criticized him, he demanded their resignations. But he was fighting a losing battle. By October, he faced a censure vote with 20,000 signatures behind it. He resigned before it could happen.
What did the external audit actually find?
It confirmed everything the critics suspected—overpayments, fragmented invoices to avoid controls, active involvement by Masferrer in the content. But Barcelona's official response was to call it all administrative errors, not deliberate wrongdoing.
And the compliance officer who investigated?
Noelia Romero conducted an internal audit and was fired for it. That tells you something about how the organization handled accountability.