Racial prejudice, always simmering in France, has been given a voice

HAVING been invited to aperos in a nearby village, I was the only non-French person present among a mixed bag of locals. They included a retired teacher, a notaire who had practised in Toulouse, a couple of farmers from the prosperous end of the scale and surprisingly, a couple of Parisians who had “returned” to the region of their grandparents.

I still stick to the old conventions that all subjects apart from money and personal wealth are permitted when the French are gathered.

Indeed, political discussion is lustily enjoyed although I’ve learned to be wary in this neck of the woods, which, in a blink of an eye, has gone from Communism to Front National.

The world’s attention was once again on France with shameful scenes of police forcing a middle-aged woman to undress as a hostile crowd looked on.

Pictures of the action had attracted opprobrium in many languages although it was noted how little criticism there was in France. In fact within 48 hours several right-wing columnists were unpicking the photo in a bid to show it had been staged to confront the so-called burkini ban.

That may well yet prove to be the case but if so, does it really matter? We know that 30 towns have banned the burkini – a swimsuit designed to cover the female figure in accord with Islamic traditions of modest dress – and women, often with small children, have been escorted away from beaches as if their mere presence were a contamination.

Others on the beach, wearing barely-there bikinis with that European insouciance to shape or age, jeered as the women, heads bowed, left in tears.

Such response was not an aberration. A poll for the highly respected newspaper Le Figaro showed – as far as polls can – that 64 per cent of French agreed with the ban. Here, at this little party, I had an opportunity to hear the views of an educated, diverse group.

Initially, it almost seemed as if the news from Nice was still on its way by horseback and proclamation to the outlying regions for my questioning was met with an indifferent shrug.

I know well enough now that the shrug is used in place of words and occasionally as a warning to back off.

I didn’t back off but did dress up my words with a diplomatic kowtow to France’s proud determination, forged in the Revolution, to separate state and religion.

“We are at war,” said the notaire with the cold, clipped tones of his calling. “These people cannot be trusted – not one of them. They have only one aim: our destruction.”

Heads nodded in agreement around him and the retired teacher butted in to state: “If they want to live here, then they must follow our ways. If not, then they must go.”

“Go where?” I asked. “Most were born here. They’re third generation Maghreb [from the north-western region of Africa]. So what are you suggesting? Deportation?”

At the use of the deportation word, there was a polite shutting down of the conversation and I was left with just the Parisians who seemed equally aghast at the views expressed.

“They are not differentiating between jihadists and ordinary men and women who are Muslims,” I said.

“Sadly,” said the man, lowering his voice a tone, “we’ve tipped beyond that point. The country is in the grip of fear awaiting the next, inevitable attack, and when people are frightened they always lash out first.

“And they no longer think rationally. Fear consumes them and politicians have a choice to douse or fan that fear.”

Few politicians are taking the first choice, it seems. The Left has yielded the stage to the cynical posturing and manoeuvring of the Right.

Using the secular state rules and thoughts, Islamophobia and racial prejudice, always simmering in France, has been given a legitimate voice.

That legitimacy was shown for the sham it is in a ruling by France’s highest administrative court overturning the ban in one town, which should set a precedent for the rest.

Its verdict was unequivocal: “The contested decree has brought a serious and manifestly illegal infringement on basic freedoms such as freedom to come and go, freedom of conscience and personal freedom.”

A day later another two women with a child were humiliatingly escorted from the beach as mayors vowed to continue their ban.

At the drinks party nobody was willing to accept that the ban was so grossly provocative that it could only serve to create deeper divide at best, and radicalisation of moderates at worst.

Nobody, apart from the Parisians, agreed with me that it was a gift to the jihadists and their recruitment. “Why does most of the world see that?” I persisted. “Why has there been such shock?”

The advocate gave a pitying smile. “We don’t care. We are the ones under attack and we will deal with it our way.”

This morning the papers are full of a story involving a Parisian restaurant manager who refused to serve two hijab-wearing women.

He threw the crying women out with the words: “Terrorists are Muslims. And all Muslims are terrorists.”

And that, I’m sad to say, is where we stand.