AS schoolboys in Paris in the late ‘50s, my two brothers and I were served fried eggs on the days our school kitchen had pork on the lunch menu.

Twenty-five years later, my son and his mother visited me in Paris while I was doing an advanced course in public finance, and on an outing, Shakir — then five years old — pointed to somebody having a ham sandwich in a cafe, and asked for one at lunch. His mother explained that he couldn’t have it as ham was forbidden in our religion. Shakir thought about this and asked: “You mean there’s a different God here from the one we have in Pakistan?” I couldn’t answer him then, and I still can’t.

Fast forward another quarter of a century, and pork is at the centre of a major controversy in France. This time, several right-wing city councils have decreed that Muslim and Jewish schoolchildren will not be offered any non-pork option when the forbidden meat is on the menu. They have based this decision on the French constitutional principle of laicite — or secularism — that prohibits the encroachment of religion on the state’s functions.

Although this decision has been wrapped in constitutional colours, the fact is that it is being perceived as the latest manifestation of intolerance among the anti-immigration, right-wing sentiment that is gathering strength in France. While this has been the stance of Marine le Pen’s Front National, the latest mayor to adopt the ‘pork-or-nothing’ policy is Chilly-Mazarin’s Jean-Paul Beneytou of Nicolas Sarkozy’s right-of-centre Les Republicaines party. This is especially worrying as Sarkozy has a real chance of being re-elected president in the next election.

The principle of the separation of church and state has been at the heart of French public life since the French Revolution of 1789. This came about as a reaction to the overbearing role played by the Church for centuries when prelates acquired enormous power, property and privileges. But now, this admirable principle is being used by the right as a club to beat Muslim immigrants with. Earlier, the full veil had come under the purview of secularism laws, with Sarkozy’s previous government outlawing the use of the burqa and its variations in public places. Upheld by the court, this is now the law.

However, as Valentine Zuber, a historian of religion observed: “Nowhere does French secularism say that people must eat the same, dress the same, and drink the same. That is a distortion of the principle of laicite.”

One head teacher at a school in Chilly-Mazarin told a Guardian reporter: “Secularism is not about pork. It is about respecting others’ religion; it is not about saying ‘no more religion’. The ban on pork-free meals is extremely difficult for me and my teachers. School is about teaching children to respect each other, regardless of difference. This has demolished our teaching of that in class.”

This linking of pork to French identity by the right has been roundly rejected by liberals, causing further polarisation in a country that has long been gripped by the debate over the place of Islam in a modern, liberal country. Host to the biggest number of Muslims in the West, France has struggled to integrate this sizeable community of believers in a largely post-religious society.

Over the years, Muslim immigrants, often from North Africa, have been concentrated in the huge, ugly council flat blocks on the outskirts of large cities. Marginalised Muslim youths are generally not called to job interviews when advertisers see their names. This grim reality makes it increasingly difficult for Muslim migrants to escape the ghetto, and also causes resentment and rage. Every once in a while, this anger explodes in the form of violent riots that feed into the right-wing narrative of Muslims refusing to integrate into French society.

Thus, France’s 4.7 million Muslims, amounting to 7.5 per cent of the population, feel they have no stake in the system. It is sobering to consider that the unemployment rate among Muslim graduates is as high as 26.5pc, compared with the national average of 5pc. Anti-immigration sentiments have been exacerbated by the recent flood of mostly Syrian asylum seekers to Europe. Politicians are being pushed to take an increasingly anti-immigrant stance in a bid to attract middle-of-the-road voters who feel their country is being inundated with foreigners from Africa and Asia.

This attitude contrasts with Germany’s generous welcome of Syrian asylum seekers in recent weeks. It is estimated that by the end of the year, around 1.5 million refugees will have entered the country over land from Turkish camps and across Greece and several East European states. This constitutes one of the biggest transfers of populations in Europe since the Second World War. But in Germany, too, there are signs that fatigue is setting in: there have been many attacks on refugee hostels, and Chancellor Angela Merkel is coming under sustained attack from her political opponents.

Sadly, France, with its proud history of being a refuge for the persecuted from around the world, is changing before our eyes. Steadily, it is becoming racist to a point that was unimaginable when I lived in France as a boy, and later, as an adult.

The irony is that while secularism was once the rallying cry for French intellectuals and liberals, it has been hijacked by the extreme right. In the name of separating the state from the church, right-wing politicians are using this proud tradition to further marginalise and bully Muslims. The flag-bearers of the French Revolution will be turning in their graves.

Twitter: @irfan_husain

Published in Dawn, October 26th, 2015

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