France feels strongly about its identity and sense of universality. In principle everyone is French first, and other identities are left on the wayside as they learn a “common” history in school as descendants of the Gauls. In reality however, the differences in ethnicity and identity show up all the time in daily life. My “mother” here told me that they have an expression in France, “You call a cat, a cat” (translated); in other words there are no “politically correct” terms. In this case, an Arab is an Arab despite the historical and cultural baggage attached to the term. For reasons of racism (against the Jewish population) the state removed the “race/ethnicity” question from the census. This lovely mix of contradictory notions creates a situation in which legally and in the eyes of the people of France there is no division in identity. However, with the people of France there remains quite an obvious difference that is stated and affects daily interactions.
There is a mix of history, ethnicity, and religion at play in the relationship between the identities of "Arab" and "French" which creates tension in the fabric of French society. Some of France’s former colonies in Africa were Arab, like Algeria, Morocco. and (partially) Mali. The country that left a lasting imprint, however, was Algeria. After a particularly bloody civil war and war for independence and secession from France, the relationship between the two countries was rocky. Pieds-noirs is a term used for someone who lived in Algeria and came back to France after or during the war. They are characterized as a cultural hybrid with a double alienation: no longer fully accepted in their native land of France or in their homeland of Algeria. The interaction between religion and ethnic origin also comes into play. Arab is not always the same as Islamic, and French is not always equal to agnostic or Christian—with that being said, it is commonly known that Lyon has a large Catholic community. Therefore the stereotypes attached to the racial and religious origins also create a distance between populations. But enough has been said in the media about the interactions between the French state and Islam, so I will leave religion for another time.
In my personal experiences I came across Guillotière, which is a part of Lyon with a strong Arab and immigrant population; there are restaurants with Arab cuisine and shops with Arab wedding gowns. Everyday there is a crowd of people (almost exclusively men), standing, chatting, and watching people exit the metro. I have to admit that it makes me uncomfortable to be watched, and every time I find myself questioning whether my discomfort is the product of a cultural difference: a community gathering in a communal space to talk and share. Or whether it is a discomfort generated by men staring at passers-by. So I have asked various people here what they think of the area. A French master's degree student that I work with lives there and enjoys the difference and exchange between cultures. On the other hand, a foreign student noted that the area was frustrating because children pester the walkers-by for money everyday. My host mother said her mantra “You have to be careful!” and warned me never to walk there after dark.
To dig deeper in the topic I asked a native Frenchman what he thought about racism in France; at the time we were passing by a park where two (supposedly) Arab men were talking loudly. His response was ambivalent; he said that racism was not really such problem. When I pushed him for more details, however, he pointed out the men and said that people do not like them loitering; their loud voices are commonly associated with Arabs and I should never walk here alone at night.
I was not really surprised by his response. I have observed that in French culture one states differences openly, but biases are hidden beneath a common desire to remain personally neutral and unified with the people of France. The mix of perceptions: pleasant, fearful, and hidden, are beginning to uncover the true depth of the intricacies between the identities "Arab," and "French”. The interactions between the two contain a cultural difference, but more importantly there is a historical difference that has built up stereotypes and reaffirmed them with cultural dissimilarities until the differences grew stronger. This perception has also been explored in literature and film. For more on the topic I would suggest reading Monsieur Ibrahim et les Fleurs du Coran or watching Indigènes (Days of Glory).