What laïcité is and what it is not

The oft-misunderstood concept has at its heart the separation of church and state, Lise Ravary says.

Marvin Rotrand’s proposal to allow Montreal police to wear hijabs, turbans or kippahs at work has been a talking point for days, as has Ève Torres’s plan to run for Québec solidaire in the next provincial election wearing her hijab. And now, there is the case of the hijab-wearing CEGEP student who wants to be a police officer.

“Whoa!” went Quebec. “What about laïcité?” The concept of laïcité is misunderstood. Sadly, it does not translate well into English. Often translated as secularism, it should not be confused with the type of secularism that rejects religion. Laïcité defines a place for religion in society.

Many francophones don’t get it either. They think laïcité means no public display of religion, especially other people’s.

Laïcité means separation of church and state, freedom of religion, the right to express one’s faith while respecting public order and institutions. Laïcité is a republican, egalitarian concept born out of the French Revolution. The French word laïc comes from the Latin laicus, which means “of the people.”

In 1905, France passed a wide-ranging and controversial law meant to return the Roman Catholic church to its spiritual duties, instead of trying to run everything, especially schools. In France, religious marriages are not recognized, religion is not taught in public schools and questions about one’s religion cannot be asked in a census. Children cannot wear religious symbols or religious clothing in school.

There has never been a racist or xenophobic component to true laïcité. Quite the opposite. Such extreme neutrality guarantees freedom of religion and equality among the different faiths, while protecting the non-believers.

In the majority of Muslim countries, the state is an official expression of Islam — which may explain why laïcité is baffling to some newcomers.

There has never been a racist or xenophobic component to true laïcité. Quite the opposite.

To work, laïcité has its rules. France will not fund religious institutions. French laïcité forbids the wearing of religious symbols by all employees of the state, from civil servants, to teachers, to bus drivers. The religious neutrality of the state must be apparent to all.

Politicians face no such restrictions. Representatives of the people are not considered agents of the state. Here, no political leader has suggested that Ève Torres must remove her hijab in order to run.

The Québécois are not French. As much as we’d like to think that we place collective rights above individual rights, we are individualistic North Americans who don’t like rules very much.

The Parti Québécois’s Charte de la laïcité was too strict. Few wanted to see nurses, cardiologists, clerks and professors get fired for their beliefs. It did not pass, but many still talk about it as if it were a clear and present exclusionary danger.

Which may explain why some think that wanting agents of the state with the power to coerce — police, judges, prison guards — to show neutrality at work by not displaying any sign of their religion is racist or xenophobic.

It is not. Laïcité gained traction in Quebec when it was presented as a way to help newcomers integrate and to keep religion, not a favourite thing, at bay at the same time.

Separating church and state has deep philosophical and historical roots. In the 17th century, English philosopher John Locke wrote the source code for the English concept of liberal tolerance while philosopher Voltaire wrote the source code for the French idea of laïcité a century later.

Two cultures, two political philosophies, each as valid as the other. Canada chose liberal tolerance, which led to multiculturalism. Quebec prefers laïcité and integration. There is no wrong answer, just misunderstandings.

Yes, some use laïcité to justify intolerance and exclusion, but let’s not allow the ignorant and the hateful to define it.

After all, great minds, from George Washington to Einstein to Bertrand Russell, considered the separation of church and state one the greatest achievements of the Age of Enlightenment. Lise Ravary is a columnist at Le Journal de Montréal.