Islam Controversy Heats Up Dinner in Normandy
Inside the old stone farmhouse in Normandy, a small Buddha statue sits on the sideboard in the dining room. Photographs depict people from various cultures--Cambodian, Malaysian, Thai. The host and hostess of this chambre d'hôte, have traveled widely. She is fluent in English and he, the photographer, slightly less confident in the 2nd language.
;)
My husband Ken knows only a few words of French and I remember a bit from college. We are seated at the dinner table with eight French guests, only one of whom can communicate at all in English. I think of him as Monsieur Traveler, because he lists all the places he has visited in the United States.
After serving a hand-made paté and the bread whose homey aroma has been teasing me since we arrived after our tour of World War II sites, our hostess introduces the guests. Ken and I eat the entreé of local Camembert cheese baked in a flaky crust as the enthusiastic conversation in French flows around us. I can catch a word here and there, but am frustrated not to understand--particularly the obviously entertaining tales of Monsieur One-Arm who is seated three people away from me on my right.
Madam Traveler watches Monsieur One-Arm, her eyes open wide. From time to time, as he speaks with gusto, she gasps or puts her thin hand to her mouth and says “Oh-h-h” as he tells his tale, which has to do with his being in Vietnam in 1960. Monsieur Traveler synopsizes the long story. “He lost his arm in Vietnam.” It is a reminder that the “American War” was first the “French War.”
At some point after the serving of the delicately cooked fish, Monsieur One-Arm looks at me and speaks to Monsieur Traveler, who replies to him and then turns to me. “He asked if you could understand. I said I speak slowly to you and you understand.”
Mustering my courage, I say, nodding toward the right end of the table, “Monsieur parle tres vite, mais j'ecoute lentement.” The French vacationers laugh at my “speaks very fast/listen slowly,” and Monsieur is off to the races again. But this time, it is a question for me.
“He wants to know,” says Monsieur Traveler, ”what you think of the mosque in New York City.”
He is referring to the hub-bub surrounding the plans to build a high rise Muslim community center in Manhattan, not very far away from the site of the 9-11 attacks. The issue has become enormously divisive in my own country.
Well! I am expecting perhaps the standard, “How long do you stay in our country?” or “How do you like France?” but not a question about a current controversial issue in America. When I travel, I prefer to observe and learn, not proclaim political beliefs. Above all, I don't want to be the know-it-all American, assuming the right to lecture. I shake my head, trying to make a joke of it, covering my ears, generally indicating that I don't really want to talk about it.
But they do. The chatter broils around us as everyone enthusiastically jumps on this conversational thread, and I hear the word Arab used frequently.
Knowing that Muslim and other immigration issues stir up emotion in France just as in America (that very week President Sarkozy was at an EU meeting defying the wishes of the other members that France open their borders to Roma, sometimes called gypsies), I decide to tease a bit. I say, in English, “I am worried that if the mosque is built in New York, all the French Muslims will want to come to America.” My statement, certainly non p.c., delights these 8 French citizens when it is translated for them. They hoot and cry “Bon!” I have my doubts about playing to the crowd, because the joke does not reflect the confusion that I feel about both the American and the French debate about relations with Muslim citizens and immigrants.
Yes, the New York Muslims have a constitutional right to build a building. But does that make it the right thing to do? And because I think the problem of immigration of Muslims in France has been vastly exaggerated, I am surprised at the vehemence of these people's response to my feeble joke. Whatever the reality, I have suddenly learned that at least among some people, the French anti-Muslim sentiment runs strong. Furthermore, there is no reticence about expressing it in front of outsiders. Not only are Ken and I foreigners, only four of these people knew each other before they arrived at this hotel.
When the hostess returns, she and I have a side discussion about the difficulties of discussing such a complex issue with the language barrier. After all, freedom of religion is a basic and important principle in our America, and we cannot simply say NO--you cannot build a religious institution. On the other hand, I believe that common sense says you must consider how your actions affect others. Because the proposal draws so much emotional response, it becomes a provocation. To the French people at this table, the proposed building is simply wrong.
I ask the hostess if their fervor stems from their own concerns about immigration in France and the fear of being overwhelmed by Muslims in their country. She does not think that is why they are opposed to the New York City building. She thinks that what they are saying is an expression of concern about the shock of 9-1-1 and a sympathy for America.
As I have visited other countries, it has frequently struck me how people in other places know everything that is happening in the United States--from drug sprees of Hollywood Stars to Wall Street fluctuations--while Americans only hear about other countries if they are at war, holding elections or victims of natural disasters. Which leads me to ask if these eight French people, who are so involved with the debate over the Muslim building in New York City, also know about the minister who threatened to burn Korans. The hostess asks and all the guests of course were well informed. I am appalled. A non-person, who deserved no attention has been so inflated by media coverage that not only do Americans know him, but people around the world know him.
It was reassuring however, to learn that the people at this table in Normandy did not confuse his grandstanding intolerance with the general attitude of Americans.
After we have polished off the dessert course, a heavenly tarte tatin, we return to our room, decorated with pictures of Buddhist temples and people from Cambodia. The French language rings in our ears. We ponder the effect of the world wide reach of information, and misinformation. We think about the World War II beaches we visited that day and the many lives lost to protect basic freedoms--including the freedom of proclaiming one's own opinion--in France and in America.
Vera Marie Badertscher is a freelance writer, who travels and reads about travel. She shares her love of both at A Traveler's Library. The Normandy conversation took place at Les Chaufourniers, near Bayeux, a charming country stay with gourmet meals.
Photo © Vera Marie Badertscher
16 Comments | Vera Marie Badertscher | Email Article | Share Article | Print Article | Permalink tagged Islam, New York 
Reader Comments (16)
"It was reassuring however, to learn that the people at this table in Normandy did not confuse his grandstanding intolerance with the general attitude of Americans."
Was that meant to be ironic or are you the typically dumb american? You conflate the acts of hijackers to all of Islam and yet you can write that?---because if you did not think all Muslims are hijackers---you would have no problems with the mosque----the only reason you have a problem because you connect innocent Muslims with the hijackers.
When I lived abroad I was also surprised by how informed people were politically in other countries, versus in the US. This was several years ago now, but I found that people were often more anxious to share their own culture versus discussing American views. Also, I thought you shared a balanced view of the mosque issue, certainly not equating all Muslims with extremism.
I was traveling in the UK on 9/11, and I remember being so touched at how nice everyone was to us. I found it so interesting to hear their impressions of NYC and the World Trade Center. We met so many people who had lived through the bombings during WWII, and we had some interesting discussions with them about such events. I met one young woman, on her way to college, who told me about her fears for how the U.S. might retaliate. I did my best to lessen her fears.
Personally, I'm not inflamed by the idea of that mosque. In my own life, I tend to believe that when people react so strongly to something ... it says far more about them than it does the thing in question. I understand why it bothers some people, but it doesn't bother me.
I lived in France for 25 years. My ex-husband grew up in Algeria, during "les evenements," which translates in English to The Algerian War. His father was in the French military. When I moved to Paris in 1969, I was surprised by the vehemence of public opinion against Arabs, ie. Muslims. Some Arabs, who fought alongside the French, had to leave their country when Algeria won. But somehow the French seemed to forget this totally. When I worked at a French radio station in 1984, a young colleague was an Algerian immigrant who was beginning his career. Once my ex joined us for lunch. I had not mentioned that Axel was Algerian, and I could feel my ex reacting to that fact with a mixture of aggression and defensive behavior, despite this young man's having been born in France, carrying a French passport, etc.. So, it does not at all surprise meant all to hear these sentiments are still very much a part of modern France. There was a really good film on the subject two years ago. La Classe? How a teacher handles different ethnic groups in a school. Readers can rent it and think more about this issue. Also, I wanted to say that as a general rule, the French are MUCH more educated on current affairs than we are here in the USA. I think this is partly from tradition, but also because this type of conversation is encouraged there, and not here. Also, the media here tends to report on the US as if it were the only country in the world, as you point out. By the way, Axel was promoted to a station in Martinique or Gaudelope. I guess the head of the station thought that his non-French look would be an advantage there. And, remember, it was RADIO, so no images of Axel. Hmm. Much to think on here. Thanks!
I think it sounds like you handled this well. I've always been taught that in polite company we shouldn't discuss politics and religion, but it sounds as if your dinner companions were much more open about discussing their views. Personally, I find the conversation about the mosque to be nothing but a chance to get people fired up over something that is really a non-issue. Build a mosque there. Build a church there. Build a temple there. They're all okay by me.
This is a great piece. I too have noticed that people in other countries know more about us than we know about them and I don't think it should be that way - we need to know more about other countries too. Thanks for sharing your experience
Excellent article -- and I think you handled yourself beautifully. It's hard to be put in the place of speaking for your entire country, especially with the language difficulties going on.
I appreciate all of your comments, especially those who realize how difficult it is to tackle a difficult subject when there is a language barrier. Alexandra has reminded me that it is even more complicated for the French than I realized. It is NOT just about their immigration problems, but goes back to the days of the Algerian War.
I am not sure what leads the first writer to assume that I think all Muslims are responsible for 9/11. I explained that in my view there are two conflicting ways to look at this situation. Is it legal? It certainly is. And is it right? In my view, it is not right to do something when you KNOW it is making people uncomfortable and upset. The guiding principle is 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' Which as I have read is a principle in all major religions.
Actually it is not germane whether I favor or oppose the building of the Muslim Community Center. It is not germane how close it is to ground zero. It is only germane that people who will be its neighbors do not want it there.
The most interesting issue for me is , "How do you respond to a question that is inflammatory in your own country AND in the country you are visiting?"
So interesting to read of your experience. It had to be difficult with the language barrier and the firm attitudes. I tend to shy away from conversations around politics and religion. There are simply too many opinions to handle. Ithink you handled it very well. And yes, the US. seems to be wide open to all our foibles, while it's not typical to hear of these detailed (sometimes petty) things in other countries.
I'm saddened to know there is still so much anti-Muslim sentiment in France but I also appreciate your insistence of freedom of speech. I love the way this essay ends: "We think about the World War II beaches we visited that day and the many lives lost to protect basic freedoms--including the freedom of proclaiming one's own opinion--in France and in America."
Sounds like an interesting (though challenging) conversation!
Vera, while I appreciate the philosophical intrigue you have laid bare with this essay, you've not thought through your own positions. You say your opinion on building the mosque in New York is 'not germane.' This is much like what their neighbors said when my great-grandparents were hauled away by the SS in Berlin in 1942.
Oh, and: "It is only germane that people who will be its neighbors do not want it (the mosque) there." Really?
If I understand you right, then if a black family buys a house next door to you, and you and your neighbors do not want them there, they should move? Let's turn it around: You move in next to a Muslim family, and they do not want you there? Pack your bags, Vera.
I pray you can set aside your nice little non-germane journalistic hat and find some courage in the face of bigotry.
Sorry, Eric, but I think it is a real stretch to compare not speaking or taking action against the SS and speaking out about whether a building should be built in a specific spot in NYC. One never knows what action one would take under extreme duress, but I hope that I would have been one of the "Righteous" non-Jews who helped the Jews, gypsies and others who were being hauled away.
And why the assumption that the only reason to object to the building is bigotry? That seems to be an extreme oversimplification of complex issues.
In this article, I am interested in the reaction of the French people I was dining with, and why they feel the way they do, and why they are so willing to talk about their position. All my working life I have spoken out against derogatory remarks about any class of people, but is that appropriate when I am a guest in another country? I think it is more important to try to understand their position, just as I have read widely to try to understand Islam.
I am currently trying to learn where the plans to build the Muslim Community Center in New York stand. I could not find anything on the web after late August. At which point the planners were exploring other options for location. Anybody know?
Isn't it interesting that the folks reading the same account of a dinner conversation have such diverse impressions of the value system of the person recounting the story? Each of us is reading it through our own eyes, and thus our personal experiences and biases come through loud and clear in the responses.
"As I have visited other countries, it has frequently struck me how people in other places know everything that is happening in the United States--from drug sprees of Hollywood Stars to Wall Street fluctuations--while Americans only hear about other countries if they are at war, holding elections or victims of natural disasters. "
Very, very true in my experience. It's one of the things I hope to remedy by getting into radio. :)
An excellent article - I was out with friends last night, and talked about the dangers of an "Amer-centric" view. There is so much to know in the world, and we seem to close our ears to most of it.