Constructing Muslims in France Constructing Muslims in France DISCOURSE, PUBLIC IDENTITY, AND THE POLITICS OF CITIZENSHIP Jennifer Fredette TEMPLE UNIVERSITY PRESS PHILADELPHIA TEMPLE UNIVERSITY PRESS Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19122 www.temple.edu/tempress Copyright © 2014 by Temple University All rights reserved Published 2014 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Fredette, Jennifer. Constructing Muslims in France : discourse, public identity, and the politics of citizenship / Jennifer Fredette. pages cm Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-1-4399-1028-3 (cloth : alk. paper) ISBN 978-1-4399-1029-0 (pbk. : alk. paper) ISBN 978-1-4399-1030-6 (e-book) 1. Muslims—France—Social conditions. 2. Muslims— France—Ethnic identity. 3. France—Ethnic relations. I. Title. DC34.5.M87F74 2014 305.6'970944—dc23 2013014468 The paper used in this publication meets the requirements of the American National Standard for Information Sciences—Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI Z39.48-1992 Printed in the United States of America 2 4 6 8 9 7 5 3 1 To Matthew, my favorite Contents Acknowledgments ix Abbreviations xiii 1 Introduction: Why Do We Ask Whether Muslims Can Be French? 1 2 Elusive Citizenship: The Consequences of an Undesirable Public Identity 23 3 Claiming Membership: French Muslim Identities, Political Goals, and Repertoires of Contention 47 4 Education: The (Undelivered?) Promise of Republican Equality 78 5 Employment: The Muslim Experience in (and out of) the Workplace 103 6 Housing: The Banlieues as a Geographic and Socially Constructed Place 126 7 The Contentious Concept of Frenchness: French Muslims Embracing, Reimagining, but Not Rejecting the Republican Triad 151 Appendix: Sample Questionnaire 175 Notes 183 References 193 Index 207 I am indebted to the Political Science Department faculty at the University of Washington (UW) who offered patient, fair, and tireless readings of my work. This especially includes Rachel Cichowski, Christine Di Stefano, and Naomi Murakawa. Their advice about writing and about political science as a profes- sion has been invaluable. Michael McCann was the primary intellectual force behind my graduate training. He introduced me to the field of law and society, where I found an academic “home” for the way I approach research questions and think about the world. Michael encouraged me to start from observation rather than theory and had more confidence in me than I did as I departed for my initial fieldwork (which proved infectious and helpful). Even though Seattle is now quickly becoming a lovely, damp memory, Michael continues to make time for my questions, despite being the busiest person I know. Uncannily, he somehow always knows exactly how to fix whatever research problem I have. Thanks also go to my colleagues in the Political Science Department at the State University of New York (SUNY), Albany, who offered support as I fin- ished the manuscript for this book. I deeply appreciate how the theorists Peter Breiner, Torrey Shanks, and Mort Schoolman embraced me as a fellow traveler. They have made my thinking sharper, and I will never tire of going to them for thoughtful reflections on multiculturalism, postcolonialism, and the public/ private divide. Victor Asal and Sally Friedman were always there to encourage me, and David Rousseau answered difficult career questions. Eloise and Jean- François Brière shared with me their time and their expertise on France even while beset with the now infamous “program deactivation.” Richard Fogarty encouraged me to ground my thinking about France and difference in a more Acknowledgments x / Acknowledgments historical perspective and provided much appreciated camaraderie as a fellow Francophile. I am uncertain how I would have navigated SUNY Albany, or up- state New York, if it had not been for Holly Jarman. Her thoughtful advice and skill as a careful listener helped me overcome many bouts of writer’s block, and she always came around for tea at the precise moment when her presence was most needed. Scott Greer, as an honorary Albanian during my tenure there, provided an endless stream of good books, good ideas, and interesting insights into just about anything under the sun. I am fortunate to have landed among some excellent and generous public law scholars, as well. Dagmar Soennecken, Lisa Vanhala, Anna-Maria Mar- shall, Lynn Jones, Katharina Heyer, and Scott Barclay have been supportive figures (among many others) at the Law and Society Association for years. Udi Sommer always appreciates diverse approaches to research. And Julie Novkov helped me the most in my transition from graduate student to professor. I am deeply grateful for her advice on my research, on the profession, and on teaching. She has helped me weather many a job market storm. I admire the conscientiousness she brings to all aspects of academe, and I am honored and delighted to call her a colleague. Sylvain Brouard of Sciences Po Bordeaux was instrumental in making my fieldwork happen. He helped me secure a visiting research position at Bordeaux and has been an invaluable guide into the world of French politics and society. His research about Muslims in France is particularly important for its efforts to undercut stereotypes about this diverse community, and I have benefited greatly from his insight. Sylvain went out of his way to make me feel completely at home in France, and I thank him and his lovely wife, Christelle (and Noah, Titoine, and Solveg), for their friendship. I hope I can return the favor one day. Vincent Tiberj has been an excellent resource on the elite politics sur- rounding Muslims in France, for which I am truly grateful. Yasmine Bouagga is a wonderful conversationalist, who always draws my attention to subtle but important moments in French politics that I might have missed. Aude Lejeune, Vincent-Arnaud Chappe, and Sébastien Chauvin have graciously shared im- portant insights with me about how the French “do” social movements. Laurent Mucchielli and Françoise Lorcerie kindly welcomed me when I went to Aix for the first time during a 2012 trip to speak to lawyers who had defended the rights of women who had been fined for wearing the burqa. My colleagues at North Central College have been extraordinarily support- ive as I made the transition to a liberal arts school while finishing this book. It is a delight to share the White House with Stephen Caliendo, Bill Muck, Suzanne Chod, and Tim Morris. I would be remiss if I did not thank my UW comrades Ceren Belge, Iza Hussin, Betsy Cooper, Larry Cushnie, Tim Deak, Shauna Fisher, Amanda Ful- mer, Marcela Garcia-Castanon, Seth Greenfest, Brian Greenhill, Chris Heurlin, Heather Pool, Chris Roberts, Pam Stumpo, Sophia Wilson, and Matt Walton for their support and encouragement. They made my time in graduate school Acknowledgments / xi more bearable and far more intellectually fruitful than it would have been oth- erwise. I am grateful that I got to spend more time with Scott Lemieux while living in Albany. He keeps me grounded in American constitutional law when my research takes me to other places (and he and his wife, Emily, know all the best restaurants). Sarah and James Terry kept me supplied with friendship, fine coffee, and all the best tidbits from medieval French and American modernist literature. Special thanks go to Allison Rank, a close friend and skilled task- master who has the ability to read my mind even (perhaps especially) when I cannot. The book you hold in your hands largely owes its existence to the good people at Temple University Press. Joan Vidal and Gary Kramer walked me through various aspects of the publication process and tirelessly answered all my questions; they made it all seem so easy. Lynne Frost made sure I always had reasonable deadlines and provided exceptionally detail-oriented copyediting and masterful image reproduction (and good humor). Sue Deeks worked copy- editing magic on the English and occasionally French text. And, of course, my heartfelt thanks go to Alex Holzman, who saw promise in the manuscript early on and supported the project from start to finish. Alex also provided two of the most insightful and constructive anonymous reviewers anyone could ever hope for (to whom I am also deeply grateful). I could not have asked for a more professional, straightforward, fuss-free publishing experience. On a more personal note, I thank my family for their support and love. Gloria Fredette, the first female political science major at her university, in- troduced me to politics, and Richard Fredette taught me that every problem can be solved with enough patience and good humor. My brothers, Michael and James, still know how to make me snort with laughter at incomprehensible jokes from our childhood. My husband, Matthew Gehrett, has tolerated my antics for twelve years now, including my habit of skipping out on him to go to France every so often. It is wonderful to be loved unconditionally by someone who has seen you buried in a pile of books from your toes to your nose. I am so fortunate to share my life with him. Portions of this book are modified versions of material previously pub- lished as Jennifer Fredette, “Social Movements and the State’s Construction of Identity: The Case of Muslims in France,” Social Movements/Legal Possibilities, edited by Austin Sarat, a special issue of Studies in Law, Politics, and Society 54 (3): 45–75. I thank Emerald Group Publishing for allowing me to reproduce that information here. Finally, I thank the interviewees, who must remain anonymous. There would be no book without them. These people met with me on their own time and generously shared windows into a world that was not my own. They trusted me with funny and frustrating and sad stories, and I hope that I have done them justice here. Any errors and omissions that remain despite all the thoughtful support and assistance I have received are mine. ACFTOGL : Association Culturelle Franco-Tunisienne d’Oullins et du Grand Lyon (Cultural Franco-Tunisian Association of Oullins and Greater Lyon) AGRIF : Alliance Générale contre le Racisme et pour le Respect de l’Identité Française et Chrétienne (General Alliance against Racism and for the Re- spect of French and Christian Identity) ANRU : Agence Nationale pour la Renovation Urbaine (National Agency for Urban Renewal) CCIF : Collectif contre l’Islamophobie en France (Collective against Islamo- phobia in France) CERN : Conseil Européen pour la Recherche Nucléaire (European Council for Nuclear Research) CFCM : Conseil Français du Culte Musulman (French Council of the Muslim Religion) CGT : Confédération Générale du Travail (General Confederation of Labor) CNCDH : Commission Nationale Consultative des Droits de l’Homme (Na- tional Consulting Committee for Human Rights) CNRS : Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique (National Center for Sci- entific Research) CPE : Contrat de Première Embauche (First Employment Contract) CROUS : Centre Regional des Oeuvres Universitaires et Scolaires (Regional Center for Student Welfare) CSA : Conseil Supérieur de l’Audiovisuel (High Council for Broadcasting) CSU : California State University Abbreviations xiv / Abbreviations EDVIGE : Exploitation Documentaire et Valorisation de l’Information Gé- nérale (General Information Database) EDVIRSP : Exploitation Documentaire et Valorisation de l’Information Rela- tive à la Sécurité Publique (Public Safety Database) EMF : Étudiants Musulmans de France (Muslim Students of France) ENA : École Nationale d’Administration (National School of Administration) FN : Front National (National Front) GIA : Groupe Islamique Armé (Armed Islamic Group) Greta : Groupement d’établissements (a group of public schools that provides adult continuing education) HALDE : Haut Autorité de Lutte contre les Discriminations et pour l’Égalité (High Authority against Discrimination and for Equality) HLM: Habitation à loyer modéré (low-rent housing) INSEE : Institut National de la Statistique et des Études Économiques (National Institute for Statistics and Economic Studies) JMF : Jeunes Musulmans de France (Young Muslims of France) LICRA : Ligue Internationale contre le Racisme et l’Antisémitisme (Interna- tional League against Racism and Anti-Semitism) MPF : Mouvement pour la France (Movement for France) MRAP : Mouvement contre le Racisme et pour l’Amité entre les Peuples (Move- ment against Racism and for Friendship among Peoples) NASA : National Aeronautics and Space Administration NGO : nongovernmental organization NPNS : Ni Putes ni Soumises (Neither Whores nor Submissives; sometimes translated as Neither Whores nor Doormats or Neither Sluts nor Slaves) PCF : Parti Communiste Français (French Communist Party) PMF : Parti des Musulmans de France (Muslim Party of France) PS : Parti Socialiste (Socialist Party) RG : Renseignements Généraux (General Information), now Direction Centrale du Renseignement Intérieur (Central Directorate of Domestic Intelligence) UJM : Union des Jeunes Musulmans (Union of Young Muslims) UMP : Union pour un Mouvement Populaire (Union for a Popular Movement) UOIF : Union des Organisations Islamiques de France (Union of Islamic Orga- nizations of France) W ho are France’s Muslims, what do they want, and why is their Frenchness such a contentious subject? This book examines how the public iden- tity of French Muslims is constructed in France and the implications this has for this relatively new and diverse population. Elite public discourse commonly (though not universally) questions whether Muslims can be good French citizens. In comparing this elite discursive frame with the discourse of French Muslims themselves, we see that it does not adequately reflect the political diversity and complicated identity politics of this population. French Muslims must respond to this common elite frame while attempting to project their own public identity, which is a difficult task for those who do not have the same access to mass media. While some might argue that rights, a familiar tool for fighting political inequality, could be an important equalizer in such a con- text, this book shows that they are ineffective at addressing social inequality, particularly in the form of unfavorable discursive frames and public disrespect. To understand the power of discursive framing—how the way we present a story influences how others will respond to it and how the unequal status of storytellers may affect which story is repeated and heard more frequently—it helps to consider an example. Thus, we begin with the “jeer heard round the world.” In October 2008, the speculative, early days of the recession of the late 2000s gave way to a grim realization of the magnitude of the financial crisis. Europe began to feel the aftershocks of American meltdowns, such as that of AIG, which had been a staple in France for fifty-five years. 1 The French looked to America with deeply mixed feelings of frustration and hope, newspapers 1 Introduction Why Do We Ask Whether Muslims Can Be French? 2 / Chapter 1 crowded with stories about American financial blunders and the French- favored American presidential candidate, Barack Obama. Then came two min- utes of heckling in a soccer stadium that brought the attention of the media and politicians back to France and its own affairs. It even attracted media atten- tion from abroad. Anxiety over the financial crisis and fascination with Obama were put on hold as French politicians agonized: France had failed to integrate its immigrants But had it? On October 15, 2008, France hosted a friendly soccer match in the Stade de France between the French and Tunisian national teams. Both teams included men of color and Muslims (Tunisia is a primarily Muslim country), and one of the French players even had a Tunisian father. Before the event started, the sports announcers took a moment to note how the two teams were filing in to- gether, in lines composed of alternating French and Tunisian players, to symbol- ize that this was a friendly game and not a competitive match (TF1 Productions 2008). The symbolism seemed to serve as an additional reminder, however. As one of the sports announcers stated, “You only play for one color—the color of your jersey. This is a perfect illustration of that” (TF1 Productions 2008). As with many professional sports, race has been a contentious issue in soc- cer. The story of race and soccer in France, however, speaks to the unique context of that nation. The combination of France’s proud tradition of difference-blind republican equality with contemporary social conflict regarding increased ra- cial and religious diversity creates uncertainty, disagreement, and sometimes open hostility—all of which make their way onto the pitch. Not everyone agreed with the sports announcers that the only colors of any importance in this match were those of the red and blue shirts. Before the game commenced, two French women of Tunisian origin, Amina and Lââm, walked to the center of the field to sing the Tunisian and French national anthems, respectively. Televised footage of Amina singing “Humat al-Hima” displays the players of both teams lined up together, as well as excited fans of the Tunisian team singing along. But when Amina finished and Lââm stepped forward to sing “La Marsellaise,” the stadium erupted into two solid minutes of boos and whistling—not whistling along with the anthem, but whistling loudly to drown it out, as a form of jeering. In the French broadcast, Lââm can hardly be heard above the cries from the stands, and in home recordings taken from the vantage point of the fans, found all over YouTube and DailyMotion, her amplified voice is inaudible. Images of the fans all but disappear in the official broadcast as the cameras focus on the upstaged Lââm and the players, some singing along, others not. Among those not singing was Hatem Ben Arfa, the gifted French player with a Tunisian father. Perhaps he just did not feel like singing. Perhaps he was uncomfortably aware that some of the boos, it has been said, were directed at him for “betraying” Tunisia for France, a country that many young people with an immigrant background believe does not care about its citizens of North Introduction / 3 African, African, and Arabic heritage—let alone those citizens who claim an affinity with Islam (Delaporte 2008). A second explanation for the booing is again related to feelings of dissat- isfaction with France, but unlike the “failed integration” explanation, it sug- gests that the booing was not unambiguously anti-French. As several interview respondents (young Muslim men and women with a family history of immi- gration, as well as a middle-aged French woman who converted to Islam years ago and now runs a Franco-Tunisian cultural organization that sometimes co- operates with the state to run youth-oriented community events) explained, these cries were of French youths, proud of being French, proud of France, and profoundly frustrated at being continually rejected by the country they claim as their own. In this interpretation, these cries had little to do with Tunisia and much to do with France. The Tunisian match, like the previous whistling episodes during the France–Algeria match in 2001 and the France–Morocco match in 2007, provided an opportunity for these youths to make a scene and acknowledge that French officials and society think of them only as im- migrants, always immigrants, and never as completely French (R. Schneider 2008). As two Muslim respondents, a French man and woman with Algerian parents, explained when asked why fans would whistle at the anthem: Man : It is because someone has been telling you for a long time, “Yeah, you are French, but, well . . . not completely. Not completely.” Woman : “Not like the others.” Man : Yes, “Not like the others.” So . . . it is not good [to have booed]; it is an insult. But so often these people are insulted, every day, for what they are, and . . . this is the only way to show it. It is stupid, yes, but it is the only way to show it! I do not necessarily agree, but it is a way to say . . . Woman : There is a problem. Man : Yes, there is a problem. It means . . . when things are going well. . . . You know, when we won the Word Cup in 1998: “Zidane!” 2 We all believed in the Black-Blanc- Beur France. 3 And me, even back then, I did not believe it. I was seven years old, and I did not believe it. I said, “Ah, this is crap. I live in forty square meters. 4 Equality? Tomorrow, nothing will have changed!” And the people . . . still had difficulty finding a job, because if you are named Rachida or Mo- hammed or you are black, it continues. According to this alternative explanation, the youths were angry with France for rejecting them—for not including them in the nation they want to call their own. It is not so clear that these youths reject France completely when their anger stems from a desire to be accepted as fully French. Like flags, na- tional anthems are laden with complex symbolism. They speak to the unity of a people, and yet national anthems and the politics surrounding them may 4 / Chapter 1 divide as much as they unify. In this case, “La Marseillaise” was mobilized by disaffected French youths to question, ironically, that supposed national unity. In addition to these two explanations for the whistling and booing, there exists a third: as one thirty-eight-year-old, white soccer fan stated, “I always boo La Marseillaise, just for the fun of watching the tight-asses wig out. . . . It is harmless, but effective. Just look at the reaction today. You would have thought the economic crisis had gone away!” (Crumley 2008). Whistling to re- ject France, whistling to express anger over being rejected by France, whistling for the hell of it: in all likelihood, all three of these motives were in play on that day in October. This incident sparked a political uproar. The swift and indignant reaction, however, did not register the sometimes subtle but important variation among these “different whistles.” The interpretation of politicians was largely consis- tent across parties: this whistling incident was a sign that France’s immigrants and their descendants have failed to integrate into France. They remain dis- respectful of the nation and must be corrected. The French president at that time, Nicolas Sarkozy, described the event as “scandalous” and “intolerable” and demanded that in the future, all matches be immediately stopped if the anthem is heckled (R. Schneider 2008). Prime Minister François Fillon went further, expressing dissatisfaction that the match in question had not been stopped then and there (R. Schneider 2008). Minister of Health, Youth, and Sports Roselyne Bachelot said that all friendly matches with Tunisia would be henceforth canceled and that “all members of government will immedi- ately leave the stadium when our national anthem is booed”—something that French President Jacques Chirac came close to doing in 2002, when Corsican fans at a France–Corsica game booed the anthem (R. Schneider 2008). Dur- ing that incident, Chirac left his seat, marched over to Claude Simonet (who at the time was the president of the French soccer federation), and demanded an apology, delaying the game for twenty minutes (“Chirac furious as fans boo anthem” 2002). Bernard Laporte, a second secretary of state for sports, went as far as to suggest that soccer matches against North African countries should no longer be held in Paris. “We are not going to continually give a stick to then be beaten with it,” he said. “We do not want to relive any more matches like Alge- ria, Morocco, Tunisia in the Stade de France” (Guiral 2008; R. Schneider 2008). In a comment that focuses both on the perceived lack of respect and out- sider status of the young fans at the game, Frédéric Lefebvre, a spokesperson for Union pour un Mouvement Populaire (UMP [Union for a Popular Move- ment]), the center-right party of former President Sarkozy, stated, “When one is adopted by a country, one respects the national anthem” (“Marseillaise sifflée avant France–Tunisie” 2008). This comment perhaps best encapsulates the con- cerns of Muslim activists, who would note that many of these fans had not been “adopted” by France but were French from birth, the descendants of Tunisian parents or even a Tunisian and a French parent. And what about those French fans who participated in the whistling even though they had no affiliation with Introduction / 5 a religious or racial minority? Are immigrants and the children of immigrants really the only ones causing a scene at soccer matches, the only ones outwardly manifesting disrespect toward national icons? T his story is about more than a disrespected anthem. It points to a broader contemporary political pattern in France that has yet to be highlighted. For all the studies that have been conducted on Muslims in France (one wonders whether there is another population so scrutinized), few examine the interaction between Muslims in France and France’s elites. Many studies, for example, ex- plore the religious views or interests of Muslims (Pedersen 1999; Shadid and van Koningsveld 1995), or the state’s response to Muslims (Bowen 2007; Fetzer and Soper 2005; Geisser and Zemouri 2007; Klausen 2005; Laurence and Vaïsse 2006; Lewis and Schnapper 1994; Shadid and van Koningsveld 1991, 1996). Yet such studies leave three questions unanswered. First, what about Muslims as more than a religious people? As individuals, Muslims in France are diverse. Some are leftist, some are rightist, and some are centrist. Some are poor and live in modest housing or even crumbling ghet- tos, while some are successful business or political leaders. Some are respected academics; some are school dropouts. Some practice their religion a great deal; some practice only during special holy days; and some claim only a cultural af- filiation with Islam. Yet for all their differences, Muslims in France still share the social situation of being a particularly new and feared religious minority in a strongly secular country with a history of colonial domination over the Muslim and Arab world—not to mention that for many there is a family ex- perience of immigration. The glut of studies about the religiosity of Muslims cannot change the fact that there is much less knowledge about Muslims as a social group in France. We should not assume that all Muslim political claims are religious ones or even religiously motivated. Second, how have French elites and Muslims in France shaped each oth- er’s view of what it means to be Muslim and to be French? This question per- vades discussion about Muslims in France. Are they French or not? Do they see themselves as French? Can they be made French if they are not already “French enough”? A state-society analysis that examines how French elites have framed the debates surrounding Muslims in France and how Muslims themselves re- spond to such frames is necessary to fully understand the social and political struggles of Muslims in France, as well as competing definitions of “Frenchness.” Once we appreciate the diversity of the Muslim population in France, it becomes clear that there is no one “French Muslim identity.” And yet French elites frequently speak as if there were one, and depict this fictitious identity as a threat to the nation. This points to an important aspect of elite power: the power to create identities and to judge those identities as deserving or unde- serving of citizenship. It is what Ange-Marie Hancock (2004) refers to as the creation of a “public identity,” and it can be done only by agents with the power