Berkley Center

For a city covered in churches, I've been surprised by the apparent lack of religion in Paris. I've stargazed on the steps of Sacre Coeur, biked past Notre Dame while exploring, and walked passed Saint Sulpice (which you may recognize from The Da Vinci Code) daily on my way to school. From my brief probes into a religious discussion with the French students my age, I've discovered it to be an unwelcome and poorly received topic of discussion.

That strikes me as odd in a country that just passed a law so clearly imposing on the heart of separation of church and state. Just two short weeks ago, the French senate passed the burqa ban law, outlawing and imposing a fine on any face-covering veil. This law cites freedom, equality, and dignity in its justification, denouncing the form of enslavement it represents. The day that the burqa ban passed the senate, I was on Sciences Po's campus, surrounded by politically motivated collegiate French minds, not unlike the Georgetown students frequently found passing out fliers in Red Square or chaining themselves to statues to represent their political and spiritual beliefs.

What do you think that the reaction was? I was anxious to see cries of celebration, or protests in anger. This country specializes in the production of baguettes and angry people on strike! How would the younger generations react? How would the Muslim women I've seen on campus react to this decision being made for them, if not previously imposed on them by their family now forcibly removed from them by their government?

But I found nothing.

No mention of it. No signs, no grievances, no outcry. The only sentiment I've discovered of religion in France is that of a reserved frown, telling me that I've brought up something that shouldn't be discussed in public. France is overwhelmingly a Catholic nation, but not even in my bioethics class has religion played a contributing role. Although I have not seen a burqa (for obvious reasons), or a synagogue, at the same time I have not seen any of my French friends wearing a crucifix or mentioning going to church. The timing of the burqa ban coincided with other discoveries I've made about this country and its diversity acceptance policies. I'd heard by word of mouth that the French are entirely disinterested in acceptance of foreign cultures, but only in integrating immigrants seamlessly into their bureaucratic system of Frenchifying every one to enter their borders in pursuit of a carte de séjour, or residency permit.

One of those permits is as good as gold in the country, but as about as hard to come by. Immigrants cannot be granted a residency permit or a long-stay visa without a health examination and a series of interviews, all of which are (unsurprisingly) in French. The attitude of the people I've worked with in trying to get a bank card, a cell phone, an apartment contract, and even a bike card is that it is my fault if I don't have the correct paperwork, regardless of whether it was listed as required, if I can't understand when French is spoken too quickly, or if I don't fit in. Even the photo collage of the free planner given to me by Bureau des Eleves (student association) reflects that the Sciences Po student body is comprised of olive-skinned, smiling French people. Despite everything I've been taught in my classes about globalization and the supranational community of the European Union, France still feels unwelcomingly French.

I don't mean to sound so skeptical of France's welcoming after only a month here. Excepting the tacit agreement that coming to France means giving up or keeping private any non-French religion, culture, or language, I've found this nation to be beautiful, rich in art and history, echoing with an enchanting language that when I speak I, despite all effort, still sound like I have a mouth full of marshmallows. My professors are intelligent and encouraging, and my friends are pleasant and kind. Regardless of the political differences I find between me and my European friends, of which there are many, we laugh at them and move on to more enjoyable topics of conversation, usually involving food or music. France is making strides in recognizing the diversity within its borders, and the plight of being different, as seen in movies like La Haine, but there is still a long way to go to reach an open dialogue. I hope to supplement these initial reflections with more analytical insight in the future, and anticipate getting a better sense of religion's place in France after patiently waiting and observing from the respectful distance that the French require.