What does it mean to be French? According to responses to the question posed by French President Nicolas Sarkozy, it’s more than speaking French, respecting the flag and eating baguettes. But few can agree on what it does entail.
In October, the French government announced a three-month initiative to define French identity. To maximize feedback, town-hall meetings were held across the country, and a Web site invited responses to the question, “What does it mean to be French?”
The debate wound down in early February. Despite more than 58,000 comments on the Web site, the results were far from conclusive.
Prime Minister Francois Fillon announced that the matter would be decided by an “expert” committee of politicians and historians. Until then, a few measures would be put into place, he said, including ordering French schools to fly the French flag and have copies of the 1789 Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen in every classroom. In addition, new citizens will need to have better command of the French language, and a citizen’s manual will be devised for students.
Complicating the issue is the fact that 6 million immigrants live in France, accounting for more than 10 percent of the population. These people often fulfill many of the traditional criteria used to determine citizenship, such as speaking the language and establishing residency, but often feel ostracized because of their faith.
“The government has its own definitions, and the population has their own definition,” said Mounir Boudissa, 20, from La Courneuve and a member of JMF, or Muslim Youth of France. “For example, I was in a French school. I got a French education. Even my parents educated me with the French way. So for me, I am French. There is no problem about it.”
But others might disagree. Even with a French passport and a French ID card, a foreign-sounding name, foreign-looking face or residency in an area with a high immigrant concentration (such as Banlieue 93) might set you apart from the general population.
For example, Mareme Kaloga, 20, who lives in the Clichy suburb, described a situation in which a few of her friends were asked to submit to ID control by several policemen. “What shocked me was the fact that we were black, we were Arabic and we had a friend, she’s white. They controlled everyone except her,” she said.
While what it means to be French is different depending on your perspective, it’s clear that the new cultures entering the country every day (113,000 immigrants arrive in France annually for family-related reasons) are shaping the idea of French identity for everyone.
Schools, a traditional means of assimilating youth in the dominant culture, are less strict in their interpretations of “Frenchness” than they once were.
“[Government officials] expect that the school could help everyone to become a French citizen, to talk correctly the language, to be integrated in the society,” said Axel Ardes, 30, a teacher in Bondy, a northern suburb.
But times have changed. When Ardes came to France from Guadeloupe, there were only a few non-native speakers in his classes, he said. Learning the language was essential not only to keep up with class work but to fit in and communicate with classmates.
Now, however, because of the growing numbers of immigrant families, the need to fit in has dissolved. “In some different places there is really a minority of original French people,” said Ardes.
In addition, these new French do not feel the discomfort of being different from the majority French because they generally live among other immigrant families. And, because of the long reach of mass media, different cultures don’t seem so different anymore, as diversity is celebrated worldwide. In addition, access to news from home countries is easier than it’s ever been.
Besides, many suburban youth feel marginalized by French society in general, living in areas far from the opportunities of the central city. This sense is no mirage, said Hugues Lagrange, a sociologist in the National Center for Scientific Research in France. Immigrant minorities are still treated as the “lowest strata of society,” he said.
Even French-born youth struggle for recognition as citizens. Myriam Saadi, 26, has all of the accoutrements of a French person but often feels like an outsider.
“When my parents came, they were immigrants, but I was born here. I am French, OK? But people are looking at me not as a French girl. I don’t understand why they are still talking about immigrants, about this population, because I was born here.”
Saadi’s frustrations sound like many heard throughout the northeastern suburbs. But on one count, these children are different from a quintessential French child.
France has long prided itself on its secularism. Its census asks for neither religious preference nor country of origin, and in 2004, it banned all religious symbols in public schools. However, many immigrant families are deeply religious.
Audrey Nsan-Nwet, 18, says religious discrimination is widespread. “Discrimination, it’s generally about your religion, specifically when you’re a Jew or a Muslim,” said the Paris resident. “When you’re Muslim, you can be called a terrorist or something like that, and when you’re a Jew, you can be called someone with a lot of money.”
Some children go to great lengths to hide their faith. Asma Soltani, 22, who lives in the suburb of Argenteuil, explained that her classmates were unaware that she practices Islam because she never wore a traditional hijab (head scarf) to school. What they didn’t know was that as soon as she left the grounds, she put it on her hijab. However, she once encountered a teacher on the street.
“He was like, ‘I would never have imagined that you were a Muslim,’” she said. “I was like ‘It’s OK. It’s not a big deal.’”
But to many, it is a big deal. Many cultures value religion and their own customs when it comes to various life events, such as weddings and funerals. Differences with mainstream traditions can cause tensions, too.
“I think in every country people are xenophobes because it’s always difficult to accept somebody who doesn’t not have the same origin, the same belief … the same way of living, of eating, of drinking, even a wedding,” said Alban, 20, a Paris resident studying at Ileri who asked that his last name not be used, an international school. “It’s always difficult to understand the different meaning of the same symbol. So I think this is a problem.”
Not all individuals with non-European origins feel like outsiders in France. Fadela Amara, Rachida Dati and Rama Yade are three prominent politicians with immigrant heritage. Even more famous is Zinedine Zidane, a French football player born to Algerian immigrants.
“When you have some money, you are less black than you were,” explained Faiza Guene, a young
woman from the suburbs who wrote the novel “Kiffe Kiffe.”
These double standards help no one. What needs to take place for more immigrant offspring to feel French?
Affirmative action was dismissed by most youth, who said a U.S.-inspired program might backfire in France.
“If we decide to accept the affirmative action, it could have some more powerful tendencies to ethnicize people to feel that they are black before they are French,” said Ardes. “And in the same way, we could maybe have the same difficulties after. Personally, I think that we should try something else.”
That “something else” needs to involve the individual, not the government, youth agree. “Minds have to change first,” Saadi said. “Nothing will come from the politicians, so first we have to changes the minds of the people. After, the politicians will listen to the population.”
If that is the case, there is reason for hope. The young people of France, like young people everywhere, are more accepting of differences than their parents.
“Younger people were born with the globalization thing. I think more of the young people live with blacks and Arabs and with the culture, the clips on TV or films,” said Charly Ararpo, 17, who moved from Clichy-sous-Bois and now attends Lycee Henri Bergson in the 19th arrondissement.
“Scientists predict that, in the future, the races will mix, so there won’t be no whites and no blacks and everyone will be accommodating. Discrimination will disappear because you won’t have this difference,” he added.
Editor's note: Photographs for this package were taken by Indianapolis Star photographer Kelly Wilkinson and Randy Johnson, Randy Johnson Photography.
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