In four months, France will host the Paris Olympics, but what kind of France will emerge? A nation torn between tradition and modernity is facing an identity crisis.
The possible selection of superstar Franco-Mallian singer Aya Nakamura, whose slangy lyrics are a far cry from academic French, to open the ceremony has sparked outrage colored by issues of race, linguistic propriety and immigration politics. Right-wing critics say Ms. Nakamura's music does not represent France and that her performance is prompting a barrage of racist insults directed at her online. The Paris Prosecutor's Office has launched an investigation.
The protests have intensified the fight over the official poster released this month. Pastel renderings of crowded city landmarks in a bustling style reminiscent of “Where's Waldo?” Children's books.
Right-wing critics attack the image as a deliberate dilution of the French nation and its history in a sea of sweet, irreproachable monotony, most evident in the removal of the cross from the top of the golden dome of Les Invalides, the former military hospital where Napoleon was hospitalized. I did. Buried. An opinion essay in the right-wing Journal du Dimanche said the “anxiety of a nation in the throes of disintegration” was on full display.
The rapid involvement of the Olympics in France's culture wars has its roots in a meeting between President Emmanuel Macron and Ms. Nakamura (28) at the Elysee Palace on February 19. She will perform.
Mr. Nakamura is by some extent the most popular singer both within and outside of France, with 25 top ten singles in France and more than 20 million followers on social media. Born in Bamako, Mali, Aya Danioko took her stage name from a character in NBC's science fiction series “Heroes.” Her upbringing in the suburbs of Paris blended French lyrics with West African dialects such as Arabic, English, and her parents' Malian language, Bambara, to the rhythms of R&B, zouk, and Afropop. I create a song that combines.
“This is not a beautiful symbol, but a new provocation from Emmanuel Macron, who wakes up every morning wondering how he can insult the French people,” said Marine Le Pen, leader of the far-right National Rally. told France Inter Radio, hinting at Mr. Nakamura's possible selection. She claimed that Mr. Nakamura sang in “who knows” language (not French, of course) and was unfit to represent the country.
Mr. Nakamura, who declined interview requests, has not commented publicly on the outrage beyond a few social media posts. At X she responded. “You may be racist, but you’re not deaf,” he attacks. The singer, who became a naturalized citizen in 2021, has dual citizenship of France and Mali. But in a country often unsettled by changes in its population (more diverse, less white, and perhaps raising more questions about the French model of identity-elimination assimilation with undifferentiated citizenship), she is at odds with the fault lines. I'm standing.
“There is an identity panic,” said Rokhaya Diallo, a French writer, filmmaker and activist. “I think France doesn’t want to see who they really are.” “White France feels threatened, unlike 30 years ago,” Diallo said, citing soccer stars Kylian Mbappe and Mr. Nakamura.
Mr. Nakamura is being held to unfair standards because of his background, Mr. Diallo added. “Her verbal creativity would be seen as incompetence rather than her artistic talent,” she said. Because she focused only on the artist's lyrics, she ignored the original musicality of her songs.
Ms. Nakamura, the eldest of five children and a single mother of two, was born into a griot family of traditional West African musicians and storytellers. “Everyone in my family sings,” she told Le Monde in 2017. “But I’m the only one who dares to sing ‘real’.”
There are few overt political messages in her music. “I’m happy if my songs speak for themselves,” she told The New York Times in 2019. But she also said she recognizes that she is a feminist role model. Her lyrics are often her odes to liberated women who are firmly in control of their own lives and unashamed of their own sexuality.
“Early in my career, I was somewhat skeptical of the concept of modeling,” Mr. Nakamura told marketing and public relations trade publication CB News in December. “But it is reality. I have influence. “If my work and business allows certain women to assert themselves, that makes me proud.”
Enthusiasm over her achievement reflects a divided France. Some see the reactionary state as trying to ignore how mass immigration, especially from North Africa, has enriched the modern host nation of the 33rd Summer Olympics. Celebrities, left-wing politicians and government officials support the idea of Mr. Nakamura playing a major role in the event.
Others, especially on the right, see multicultural France as intent on hiding its Christian roots, and even the country itself, especially with the cross removed from the Les Invalides dome and the absence of any French flags on official posters. Gentle pinks, purples and greens are preferred over the French's bold blues, whites and reds.
“Whenever the world watches us, we get the impression that we don’t embrace who we are.” This is what Marion Marechal, Le Pen's nephew and leader of the far-right Reconquette party, said on French television last week.
Then there is the question of language in the land of the Académie Française, founded in 1634 to promote and protect the French language. It takes upon itself the task of protecting the country from “brainless globish,” as one of its 40 members once put it, and it does so passionately, even if its success dwindles as France succumbs to the world of “startups.”
“There is a kind of linguistic religion in France,” said Julien Barret, a linguist and author who has written an online glossary of the languages prevalent in the banlieue where Mr. Nakamura grew up. “French identity is fused with the French language.” He added that it amounted to “pure worship.”
So-called purity has long since ceased to exist. France's former African colonies are increasingly injecting their own expressions into the language. Singers and rappers, often from immigrant families, have coined new terms. “You can’t write a song like you write a school assignment,” Mr. Barret said.
Mr. Nakamura's dance floor hits use an eclectic mix of French argots, such as verlan, which change the order of syllables. West African dialects such as Ivory Coast's Nouchi; An innovative phrase that is sometimes meaningless but quickly becomes popular.
In her 2018 hit “Djadja,” which has become an anthem for female empowerment, she sings “I'm not you” and calls out a man who lies about sleeping with her. prostitute,”We use a centuries-old French term for a prostitute. It has been streamed approximately 1 billion times.
Another widely known song is “Pookie”. Poo Cave, Slang derived from Romani, meaning traitor or rat.
In his first public appearance through the magazine L'Express, President Macron asked Mr. Nakamura who his favorite French singer was. Her response was legendary artist Edith Piaf, who famously regretted nothing, even though she passed away in 1963.
So Mr. Macron suggested to Ms. Nakamura that she consider singing Piaf at the Olympic opening ceremony, in an explanation that the presidency did not object to.
The idea is still under review.
For some, Mr. Nakamura singing to Piaf may be the perfect tribute to “La Vie En Rose,” Piaf's immortal ode to romantic love in Paris. Bruno Le Maire, Minister of Economy and occasional author of erotic novels, said the work would show “camouflage” and “daring”. Supporters pointed out that both singers grew up poor and were immigrants.
However, a recent opinion poll showed that 63% of French people do not support Macron's ideas. Although about half of the respondents said they only knew Mr. Nakamura by name.
Mr. Nakamura has previously faced criticism for his music in France, where expectations for assimilation are high. Some people on the right complain that she's gone French, but she's been more interested in her African roots or American role models.
She responded to critics about her music on French TV in 2019 by saying, “In the end, it speaks to everyone.”
“You don’t understand.” she added. “But you sing.”
The Olympic fever is unlikely to subside easily. A commentator on France Inter radio said: “There is no oil in France, but we have an argument. In fact, we almost deserve a gold medal for that.”