Like much of my study-abroad experience, my encounters with religion in France should probably not be considered typical.
The student population of Sciences-Po Paris in Menton is mostly non-French, many of the students are Muslim, and I helped prepare the iftar meal of Ramadan long before I learned how to make quiche. It seems only fitting, then, that I take this opportunity to address this atypical and yet hugely significant religious minority in France.
It seems religion is struggling to define its place in French society. As I mentioned in my first letter, the encounter of Islam in the public space has been as serious challenge for state and society. The controversies surrounding Muslims in France are signs of a changing religious identity and may have important international significance.
France's strict policy of laïcité entails that no religion is recognized by the Republic. Furthermore, it is illegal to even take account of religious adherence in the national census, which can make sociological studies of religious identity in France somewhat difficult. But the high-minded principle of ignoring religious and ethnic differences may also ignore, rather than address, the real discriminations in society. Unlike many Americans, French politicians seem to have an allergy to religion, religious association, and religious references. The policies indicate that it would be better for all were it to remain out of sight, out of mind, in part to facilitate the smooth integration of religious minorities into French society. Of course in 1989 the famous Affair of the Veil in public schools served as the catalyst for the heated national debate over the application of laïcité in public spaces.
Alongside this, another very interesting social transformation took place in the Muslim community, as highlighted by my professor Giles Kepel. The entity that defended the right to wear the veil in public school before European tribunals, the Union of Islamic Organizations in France, underwent a very subtle change to become the Union of Islamic Organizations of France. According to Kepel, this minor change of name is emblematic of France's evolving role in the Muslim imagination. These religious organizations, like the community they serve, no longer consider themselves merely outsiders transplanted in France but rather of or from France. On one hand, this should not come as a great surprise. After all, the Grand Mosque of Paris was built in 1936, and several generations, comprised of millions of individuals, of Muslim heritage have been born into French citizenship.
On the other hand, French society as a whole may not enthusiastically accept that the Republic has become the motherland of Islamic organizations, and no longer merely their lukewarm host. I particularly recall an alarmist and almost certainly inaccurate poster hung in the home of a middle-school classmate in Lyon in 2000: "If no measures are taken to stop it, the majority of French citizens will be Muslim by 2025." While this particular family is certainly right-of-center on the political spectrum, the anti-Muslim nationalist current is significant and not to be overlooked. It is not only devout Catholics, many of whom still consider Catholicism an integral part of French identity, who reject the expanding Muslim community. On the whole, the French have a great pride in their traditional culture, language, and patrie and have guarded its integrity with particular zeal. Moreover, many secularist republicans remain staunch as ever in their conviction that religious loyalty is a dangerous threat to patriotism. Students with traditionally North African names are sometimes asked by potential employers whether or not they are practicing Muslims before a job offer is made.
Interestingly, according to recent Pew Research Center studies, young Muslims in France today are more likely to identify themselves by religious adherence than their parents. Religiosity is increasing slightly among Arab youth as they simultaneously affirm their French nationality and energetically claim all the rights therein. Thus Muslim girls struggling for the right to religious expression have marched the city streets veiled in the French tri-colored flag. One of my classmates, a Muslim Frenchwoman of Tunisian parentage, grew up in the 93rd arrondissement of Paris, one of the worst-hit by the 2005 riots, and yet she feels a deep affinity and love for the neighborhood, her home. If this is not a love and a pride of France, then what is?
France's policy of integration seems to have met with mixed success. Minorities in France identify more and more strongly with the nation, but not necessarily through a sublimation of religious identity as may have been intended. Beyond this, if millions of Muslims and thousands of Islamic organizations are rooted in French soil, what implications might that have for the role of France in the collective imagination of world Islam?
It seems religion is struggling to define its place in French society. As I mentioned in my first letter, the encounter of Islam in the public space has been as serious challenge for state and society. The controversies surrounding Muslims in France are signs of a changing religious identity and may have important international significance.
France's strict policy of laïcité entails that no religion is recognized by the Republic. Furthermore, it is illegal to even take account of religious adherence in the national census, which can make sociological studies of religious identity in France somewhat difficult. But the high-minded principle of ignoring religious and ethnic differences may also ignore, rather than address, the real discriminations in society. Unlike many Americans, French politicians seem to have an allergy to religion, religious association, and religious references. The policies indicate that it would be better for all were it to remain out of sight, out of mind, in part to facilitate the smooth integration of religious minorities into French society. Of course in 1989 the famous Affair of the Veil in public schools served as the catalyst for the heated national debate over the application of laïcité in public spaces.
Alongside this, another very interesting social transformation took place in the Muslim community, as highlighted by my professor Giles Kepel. The entity that defended the right to wear the veil in public school before European tribunals, the Union of Islamic Organizations in France, underwent a very subtle change to become the Union of Islamic Organizations of France. According to Kepel, this minor change of name is emblematic of France's evolving role in the Muslim imagination. These religious organizations, like the community they serve, no longer consider themselves merely outsiders transplanted in France but rather of or from France. On one hand, this should not come as a great surprise. After all, the Grand Mosque of Paris was built in 1936, and several generations, comprised of millions of individuals, of Muslim heritage have been born into French citizenship.
On the other hand, French society as a whole may not enthusiastically accept that the Republic has become the motherland of Islamic organizations, and no longer merely their lukewarm host. I particularly recall an alarmist and almost certainly inaccurate poster hung in the home of a middle-school classmate in Lyon in 2000: "If no measures are taken to stop it, the majority of French citizens will be Muslim by 2025." While this particular family is certainly right-of-center on the political spectrum, the anti-Muslim nationalist current is significant and not to be overlooked. It is not only devout Catholics, many of whom still consider Catholicism an integral part of French identity, who reject the expanding Muslim community. On the whole, the French have a great pride in their traditional culture, language, and patrie and have guarded its integrity with particular zeal. Moreover, many secularist republicans remain staunch as ever in their conviction that religious loyalty is a dangerous threat to patriotism. Students with traditionally North African names are sometimes asked by potential employers whether or not they are practicing Muslims before a job offer is made.
Interestingly, according to recent Pew Research Center studies, young Muslims in France today are more likely to identify themselves by religious adherence than their parents. Religiosity is increasing slightly among Arab youth as they simultaneously affirm their French nationality and energetically claim all the rights therein. Thus Muslim girls struggling for the right to religious expression have marched the city streets veiled in the French tri-colored flag. One of my classmates, a Muslim Frenchwoman of Tunisian parentage, grew up in the 93rd arrondissement of Paris, one of the worst-hit by the 2005 riots, and yet she feels a deep affinity and love for the neighborhood, her home. If this is not a love and a pride of France, then what is?
France's policy of integration seems to have met with mixed success. Minorities in France identify more and more strongly with the nation, but not necessarily through a sublimation of religious identity as may have been intended. Beyond this, if millions of Muslims and thousands of Islamic organizations are rooted in French soil, what implications might that have for the role of France in the collective imagination of world Islam?
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