|
What went wrong with multiculturalism in France?
There are so many queries when it comes to
multiculturalism in France: Why don’t the integration
model and secularism work? Are there racist sentiments
among the French? Does French society treat the new
generations of immigrants that are born in the country
properly? Can (and should) these generations be
integrated? This article tries to explore some of the
most sensitive issues.
By Julia Poliscanova
While the European Union stresses ‘unity in diversity’
and the virtues of multiculturalism, France does not
seem to be in tune with these political trends. It
appears to be surrounded by problems concerning its
immigrant population: racism, discrimination,
inefficient secular integration model; the list goes on.
One might recall the riots last November which flared up
in the banlieus as evidence. It is interesting to
note that the majority of people participating in these
uprisings in the streets were black (Christian or
Muslim), young and carrying a French ID card. So why is
it that France cannot step onto the successful path of
multiculturalism and integrate its foreign population,
especially the one that was born in the country?
Integrated or secular: what counts more?
Originally, the French tradition of laicité was
built against the influence of the Catholic Church in
the 1905 law of separation between the church and the
state[1]. Thus we trace the roots of the French
integration model to this law that promotes the
principle of secularism, implying the exclusion of the
Church and religion from the entire integration model,
as well as the protection by the state from any pressure
from any religious group.
The idea behind this decision appears to be very
reasonable: isn’t it sensible to exclude this potential
reason for discord from the model? Moreover, initially
the 1905 law recognised the right of everyone to
practice his or her own beliefs, including the wearing
of religious signs.[2] Therefore, one sees the clear
emphasis on tolerance and recognition of each other’s
differences as the underlying ideas of the original law;
as Albert Memmi acknowledges, ‘a secularism which can
accept a range of differences, provided that none of
those differences is exclusive’.[3]
However, the problem in France is not the idea of
secularism itself, but rather the rhetoric behind it,
its implementation and its interpretation in
contemporary legislation. If secularism is there to
eliminate religious disputes, if it is there to promote
tolerance and acceptance of differences, then in France
it does the opposite – it imposes some kind of
obligatory atheism, forces one to forget or hide one’s
religious beliefs.
Take the debate on the Islamic headscarf for instance:
the headscarf affair of 1989 – when three girls were
excluded from their school for wearing the Muslim
headscarf in class – was not only against the European
Convention on Human Rights that recognises the
individual’s right publicly to express religious belief
[4], but it also undermined the ability of the French
model, or rather of its interpretation, to bring
tolerance as opposed to the exclusion of certain parts
of French society.
Furthermore, the fierce debate around the 2003 law that
banned conspicuous signs of religious adherence in
public schools proves the point even more. The main
argument against the Islamic headscarf in this case is
that it means the oppression of women by men, and is
against the law of equality of women and men. However,
this is an intrusive interpretation of a religious
symbol which, clearly, can have different meanings in
different circumstances: it can also be the expression
of a free belief and of a free choice; a means of
protection against the pressure of males; a statement of
opposition, or even antagonism, to western and secular
society. And the state has no right to interpret
religious symbols whatsoever, or to choose the meaning
it thinks is the accurate one, since this will
undoubtedly cause resistance and resentment among the
community that does not want to be patronised as far as
the understanding of their religion is concerned.
For instance, consider the situation of young Muslim
girls: how are they affected by this ban on religious
apparel? The first possible scenario is that a girl, in
order to abide by the law, renounces wearing the
hijab. The problem in this case is that the law does
not deal with the cultural stereotypes and prejudices
that exist among the Muslim community and, therefore,
the girl is exposed to the pressures, resentment and
contempt from her community. Such daily pressure takes
different forms, from insults to violence.[5]
In
the second scenario, if a girl freely wants to wear a
headscarf in public places, and considers sharia
law superior to civic law, she is simply forced to go to
a private school or stop going to school altogether,
which might lead to segregation in the long run. This
dilemma clearly shows the problems of banning
conspicuous religious symbols in public schools, as well
as highlighting the inability of contemporary
interpretations of the French integration model actually
to integrate its Muslim population.
Hence, the present-day French integration model does not
reflect the present-day society. The figures speak for
themselves: there are 5 million Muslims in the country,
35 percent of whom are of Algerian origin, 25 percent
are of Moroccan origin and 10 percent of Tunisian
origin.[6] The problem with the model is that, while it
excludes religion, it does not take into account that,
for the considerable part of its ethnic minority,
religion is highly significant and is closely entwined
in their everyday lives. This disregard represents the
main reason for the French integration model’s failure.
La
France raciste?
What place does racism take in French society? It is,
undoubtedly, a very broad issue and is worth devoting a
whole essay to it, but my purpose is to outline the
general picture and argue that racism does exist among
the French.
Official data suggest that there is racism in
employment: among French nationals, the unemployment
rate stood at around 10 percent in 2000, compared to 20
percent among the foreign population. If one looks at
the second generation, 26.5 percent of university
graduates of North African origin are unemployed,
compared to 5 percent of graduates of French origin.[7]
Moreover, racism plays its role when choosing among
candidates. According to SOS Racisme, a French
campaigning group, CVs with an African name get far
fewer positive answers than CVs with a typical French
name. Even more shocking is the fact that French
employers have elaborated special abbreviation system:
‘BBR (Bleu Blanc Rouge or Blue White Red (the
colours of the French flag), meaning French/white) and
NBBR (Non Bleu Blanc Rouge or Not Blue White Red,
meaning not French/white) indicating race in employers’
databases’.[8]
Secondly, racism is also widespread around housing. The
majority of the French immigrant population lives in
so-called cités, which are characterised by high
unemployment, poor-quality housing and neighbourhood
infrastructure, and difficult relations between the
police and local inhabitants. The construction of these
districts in the outskirts of big cities, Paris and Lyon
in particular, took place in 1970s in order to help poor
immigrants and their families with temporary housing;
however, at the moment 81 percent of non-EU nationals
reside in these areas [9]. The immigrants’ children and
grandchildren seem to be stuck there, since there is
unwillingness and inaction on the part of the French
government to improve and change the situation.
Finally, there is racism in public perception and French
attitudes towards its foreign population. For instance,
in a recent poll, the proportion of respondents (49
percent) who held that immigrants were too different to
be integrated into the French society was almost
identical to the level of support (46 per cent)
expressed for repatriation in preference to integration.
Since the early 1980s, it has become commonplace in
France to claim that immigration is a threat to national
identity.[10]
Various reasons are put forward to explain racism in
France, with economic decline being the most obvious:
the frustration and fear of poor white population,
downwardly socially mobile or excluded, are more easily
directed towards migrants as scapegoats. The conclusion
must be that there are racist sentiments among the
French that hamper peaceful and prosperous co-existence
and co-operation in French society. It could be also
argued that France has not done enough to correct the
ethical, racial, and religious discrimination that
negatively affect most children of North African
immigrants. I now turn to this phenomenon.
Born in France but still not French?
One of the major contradictions in this regard is the
terms used in French to describe its immigrant
population: in the French media they are usually called
the second or the third
generation of immigrants. But if a child is born in
France, he is not an immigrant, so the expression the
second generation of immigrants is a misnomer. If
there is this common trend to use these terms, it
suggests that there is reluctance and unwillingness to
accept these Muslim people as a part of indivisible
France, as a part of French society and treat them as
equal. Someone who was born in the country, who lives,
works and takes part in common social and political
processes can’t be labelled ‘French citizens different
from the others’ (as is too often heard) or ‘French
citizens against the others’.[11] What this does is
divide society even further into those inside the
community and those outside it, since if you label
someone as ‘different’, you risk not only alienating
her, but also provoking resentment and frustration. ‘How
am I supposed to feel French when people always describe
me as a Frenchmen of Algerian origin? I was born here. I
am French. How many generations does it take to stop
mentioning my origin?’ are the legitimate questions that
Muslim people in France ask.[11] The answers remain
unknown, since in France people are defined by their
participation: they are either inside the social
system, or outside it.[12]
Furthermore, why does French society feel the need to
integrate someone who was born and has lived all her
life in this country in the first place? It appears
extremely paradoxical to speak of the need to
‘integrate’ people who have been an integral part of the
social structure of the country for one, two or even
three generations. The question is how to confront or to
minimize particular conflicts, but not how to integrate
those who are already inside social structures.[13] The
states do not create special policies to integrate each
newly-born generation since it is the continuation of
the previous generation that absorbs the latter’s
experience and achievements. Thus, the whole idea of
the need to integrate proves again the inability of the
French society and the government to accept its
post-immigrant population, to treat them as French, as
French who were born in France and have lived in the
country all their lives.
One of the main racist stereotypes in France today is
based on the idea of cultural difference: the migrants,
from this point of view, will never be ‘integrated’.
While it is widely agreed that different peoples do have
different cultures and traditions, this cultural
diversity does not prevent them from living in a
thriving, politically and economically united society,
as the examples of the Great Britain or the United
States show. But is the immigrant population in France
so different that it cannot co-exist and cooperate with
the French population?
The reality shows the opposite: French citizens of
African and Turkish origin react like anybody else to
social issues like unemployment, the role of the state
in the society, secular education. If we look at the
latest controversies for which France is known in
Europe, such as the principle of secularism and the
European constitution, one would be surprised to know
that 83 percent of French citizens of African and
Turkish origin agree that, in France, only secularism
allows people with different faiths to live together;
and like most French voters, they voted against the
European constitution in the May 2005 referendum.[14]
Hence this, in its turn, proves the point made earlier:
the fact that there are conflicts and disturbances among
immigrants does not mean that they are incompatible with
the French culture and cannot integrate, but rather that
what they criticise in today’s French society is not its
values, but the fact that these values are not in fact
manifested in their daily lives. What the French
citizens of African and Turkish origin want is economic
and social success in a more united and less unequal
society where democracy is being shared by all.[15]
The problem with the French immigrant population is
exacerbated even further by French society’s attempts to
integrate them, thus not accepting them as equal
citizens, and emphasizing their differences. Whereas, in
reality, it is not cultural differences that provoked
youth riots last November. Rather, it is anger and
hopelessness, sadness and identity-confusion, among
people who believed their history books, texts which
were in raptures over liberté, égalité et fraternité.
Is
the situation hopeless?
On
the face of it, the situation seems rather hopeless:
neither the French government nor society are capable of
eliminating the problems concerning ethnic minorities
residing in the country. Not only does the integration
model fail to reflect the contemporary society’s
composition, but also such sentiments as racism and
unwillingness to accept the migrant population that has
lived in France for generations as equal French citizens
are all present in the country.
However, there is cause for optimism: look at the
examples of earlier migrants, those of European origins,
who were considered then to be incapable of integrating,
suffered violent attacks, were the object of great
hatred and were surrounded by various stereotypes and
forms of hostility.[16] Now these European migrants are
perfectly accepted and tolerated. Consequently, aren’t
the problems that France faces nowadays temporary? What
France needs is time, as well as flexibility and respect
for cultural and religious diversity.
References
[1] Patrick Weil, ‘A Nation in Diversity: France,
Muslims and the headscarf’, March 25th 2004,
URL:
http://www.opendemocracy.net/content/articles/PDF/1811.pdf
(accessed 12/2006), p. 2.
[2] Ibid., p. 2.
[3] Albert Memmi, ‘Mechanisms of Oppression’, in Maxim
Silverman (ed), Race, Discourse and Power in France
(Avebury, 1991), p. 36.
[4] Maxim Silverman, ‘Introduction’, in Maxim Silverman
(ed), Race, Discourse and Power in France (Avebury,
1991), p. 2.
[5] Patrick Weil, ‘A Nation in Diversity: France,
Muslims and the headscarf’, March 25th 2004,
URL:
http://www.opendemocracy.net/content/articles/PDF/1811.pdf
(accessed 12/2006), p. 2.
[6] Henri Astier, ‘Ghettos Shackle French Muslims’, BBC
News, URL:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/4375910.stm
(accessed 02/2007), p. 1.
[7] Wikipedia, ‘Social Situation in the French Suburbs’,
URL:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Social_situation_in_the_French_suburbs
(accessed 02/2007).
[8] SOS Racisme, ‘Discrimination, Présentation’, URL:
http://www.sos-racisme.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=blogcategory&id=22&Itemid=92
(accessed 05/2007)
[9] Alec G. Hargreaves, Immigration, ‘Race’ and
Ethnicity in Contemporary France (London: Routledge,
1995), p. 72.
[10] Ibid., p. 159.
[10] Patrice De Beer, ‘France’s immigration myths’,
February 9th
2006, URL :
http://www.opendemocracy.net/content/articles/PDF/3252.pdf
(accessed 12/2006), p. 2.
[11]
Henri Astier, ‘Ghettos Shackle French Muslims’, BBC
News, URL:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/4375910.stm
(accessed 02/2007), p. 2.
[12] Michael Wieviorka, ‘Tendencies to Racism in Europe:
Does France Represent a Unique Case, Or is it
Representative of a Trend?’, in John Solomos and John
Wrench (eds), Racism and Migration in Western Europe
(Berg Publishers, 1993), p. 61.
[13] Etienne Balibar, ‘Race, Nation and Class’, in Maxim
Silverman (ed), Race, Discourse and Power in France
(Avebury, 1991), p. 82.
[14]
Patrice De Beer, ‘France’s immigration myths’, February
9th
2006, URL:
http://www.opendemocracy.net/content/articles/PDF/3252.pdf
(accessed 12/2006), p. 2.
[15] Ibid., p. 2.
[16] Colette Guillaumin, ‘Race and Discourse’, in Maxim
Silverman (ed), Race, Discourse and Power in France
(Avebury, 1991), p. 8.
|
