Being Muslim in France is difficult – and that underlines that diversity is indeed a nation's strength

Archive photo from 2003 of French women in Paris wearing hijabs and protesting the French government's decision to ban the headscarves in schools, hospitals, and public buildings. — Filepic/AFP

Being a Muslim traveller in a global world is often fraught with uncertainty. I was recently lucky enough to eat in one of those famed and fancy French patisseries on the Champs-Elysees, and savoured a beautiful oversized macaroon of raspberries, lychees, and the "crème aux pétales de rose".

It was a heavenly experience, but my enjoyment was cut short when, while settling the bill, the cashier informed me, "I noticed you had ordered that, but perhaps I should say it contains alcohol".

I was taken aback because all I tasted was heaven tinged with delicate aromas of rose. But she confirmed there was something more intoxicating in the dessert. "I have heard myself it is delicious so many times," she said, "But unfortunately I myself have not been able to try it."

As she said that, she embarrassedly covered her mouth with her hand. She seemed regretful, perhaps because she hadn't warned me earlier or because her colleague who took our order didn’t mention it, or because she was envious that our mistake allowed us to at least have a brief taste of the forbidden. It was all a little complicated.

Like being a Muslim in France. France is home to over five million Muslims, making it one of the largest such populations in the European Union, with around 40% residing in Paris. Their presence and influence can be felt everywhere, from service staff with North African roots to a quiet "assalamualaikum” in recognition. When asked, staff at Disneyland Paris will even lead you to a small, comfortable room, with enough space to move the coffee table to the side for prayers.

However, visible symbols of Islam. Mosques are not prominently signposted, and even halal restaurants advertise themselves as a footnote rather than front window signage. This is in part due to France's strict policy of secularism, or "laïcité", which separates religious and civic life.

In 1989, a school in the small French town of Creil suspended three Muslim girls for wearing hijabs, igniting a nationwide controversy. The Conseil d'État (Council of State) ruled that the hijab wasn’t incompatible with secularism, but the Education Minister allowed schools to decide on a case-by-case basis. By 1994, a memorandum restricted "ostentatious" religious symbols, like the hijab, in schools.

Between 1994 and 2003, around 100 female students were suspended or expelled for wearing the hijab, though around half of the decisions were overturned by French courts. In 2004, a law banned conspicuous religious symbols in state schools and hospitals, and continues to this day.

This situation intensified recently with the 2024 Paris Olympic Games, where France banned its Muslim athletes from wearing a sports hijab or religious headgear when competing, a decision that Amnesty International said "undermines efforts to make sports more inclusive and mean that Muslim players and athletes who wear a hijab in France will continue to be discriminated against".

Indeed, it is generally accepted that the way the principle of laïcité is applied disproportionately affects those from a single religion, and the public debate has just been ongoing on how it impacts their day to day activities.

A 2013 study by Institut Montaigne found that job applicants with Muslim-sounding names received fewer interview callbacks. The French government reported that candidates with Arab names had a 32% lower chance of being called for an interview. Additionally, a 2023 report from the Toulouse School of Economics found that nearly two-thirds of women who always wear a hijab are considered "inactive" (ie, not working, looking for a job, or studying).

And despite Muslims making up 8%-10% of France's population, they are underrepresented in government, comprising only 0.08% of the Senate and National Assembly (before the June 30-July 2, 2024, elections).

It is reported that many Muslims in France now feel compelled to leave for better opportunities elsewhere. "I grew up thinking I was French, but now with the climate in France, it cannot be possible for me to even feel like I’m French," said one Muslim. "What is the point in learning a language and being in a culture that will always see you as less?” asked an Egyptian woman studying law at Pantheon Sorbonne in Paris. (Quotes from The Article.)

If some of this feels familiar in Malaysia ... well, it is. Anytime religious or racial discrimination is discussed, I find Malaysians that feel they must work harder to get into university or advance in their careers. This has led to concerns about a "brain drain", with Malaysia’s Statistics Department revealing that 74% of Malaysians working in Singapore are "skilled" or "semi-skilled".

Similarly for France, a survey by the University of Lille reports that many of France’s Muslim population have emigrated and now contribute significantly to other economies like Canada and Britain, where hijab-wearing women are often featured in immigration and work permit websites.

While one solution is to promote "unity" campaigns championing inclusiveness, initiatives like this country's 1Malaysia have previously faced public cynicism. In reality, while the Malaysian government cares very much that talent is flowing out, they seem to be indifferent to helping those who want to leave to stay here.

One tack I find interesting was raised by Olivier Esteves, a professor from the University of Lille: "Ultimately in France, you have a situation where Islamophobia is stronger than capitalism, whereas in other countries capitalism is larger than Islamophobia," he said. To him, racism is simply bad for business.

He has a point. A survey by recruitment agency Hays found that while 93% of Malaysians would consider working abroad for better opportunities, only 9% would leave for lifestyle factors, while 84% would do so for better job or career opportunities.

So if you help talented people in your country feel they have good opportunities for work, it will actually help build your economy. Making every individual feel valued and giving equal opportunities is the key. Diversity is indeed a strength rather than a weakness if you want to expand and grow.

Ultimately, I don't really know if that cashier felt that being a Muslim was something she had to keep a little on the lowdown. But I know if her employer – and her nation – recognised that different religions exist and deserved to be respected, then instead of just shrugging shoulders, they would have taken the opportunity to offer better service (and pastries) to all.

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In his fortnightly column, Contradictheory, mathematician-turned-scriptwriter Dzof Azmi explores the theory that logic is the antithesis of emotion but people need both to make sense of life’s vagaries and contradictions. Write to Dzof at [e-mail]. The views expressed here are entirely the writer's own.