Are French Jews in danger in France?  The initial and spontaneous response is “No”.  For quite some time, Jews have played an active role in nearly every facet of French life: medical, social, scientific, administrative, and even the very highest levels of politics itself.  For many centuries, Jews have occupied a place in the history of France, having been one of its pillars.  Jews have integrated themselves in French life; and have unequivocally embraced the principle of laicité—that is, the separation of church and state] as defined by the French Republic.

Recently, though, the standing of French Jews has been seriously eroded.  Starting with the antifada in 2000, ties between Jews and Muslim have greatly deteriorated.  Televised debates often involve slander and hostilities against Jews, and end in a denunciation of the politics of Prime Minister Sharon. 

To some extent, it is understandable that the Muslims of France make much of the Middle East conflict.  However, the French media never misses an opportunity to fan the flames.  Objectivity has been lost.  Israelis, now, are always wrong; Palestinians are always right. 

The Muslim population of France numbers more than 6 million out of a total of 70 million people; whereas there are only 500 thousand Jews in the country.  Owing to its size, the opinion of the Muslim population counts enormously, and often enough this opinion of Jews is gratuitously negative.

According to the compilation of racist acts in France during the 2001-2002 period, 60% of these acts were designated anti-semitic.  For the entire year of 2002, the Israeli consistory compiled more than 500 acts of anti-semitism.  It was even necessary to establish an office, open around the clock, for the purpose of aiding victims of such violence. 

But has France itself become anti-semitic?  Not quite.  Still, the things that are occurring in the streets of Paris and the other major cities of France are cause for grave concern: cemeteries desecrated, Jewish shops marred by graffiti, or rabbis attacked and insulted.  And this is to say nothing of young Jewish students who upon leaving school must be escorted because far too often they have become the target of bullying, punches, and other forms of aggression.

What is the government doing?  Initially, the administration denied that these acts of aggression were anti-semitic—insisting, instead, that they were only acts of unruliness.  Owing to the growing number of such acts, however, the government had to acknowledge the anti-semitism in the streets.  Indeed, even the President of the Republic, Jacques Chirac, solemnly declared that it was utterly unacceptable that the Israeli-Palestinian conflict should be allowed to sully the soil of France. 

Although France is fortunate enough to have a law, named Lellouch (after its author), which has increased the prison penalty for acts of anti-semitism, it is not clear whether this law will serve its purpose.  The four youngsters who were arrested for having attacked two young Jews (just for being Jewish) during a demonstration were released because their acts were deemed to be merely unruly rather than anti-semitic, and so warranted a less severe punishment. 

Are Jews fearful of France?  The “No” has become less spontaneous and more nuanced.  Jews have become afraid of going out in the streets without covering the yarmulke because doing so would make them an easy target.  And owing to numerous insults, it is now with great caution that they depart from synagogues.  For its part, the government has intensified and reinforced security measures, including stationing police, around Jews establishments.  But there has been no need for police officers in front of any of the mosques in France.

The French Jewish community is faced with some painful choices. They can place their children in private Jewish schools thus sheltering them from injury and other acts of aggression.  But for how long?  And this will be at the risk of excluding them from society.  Or, Jews can choose to forgo entirely one of the most defining features of what it means to be a Jew, namely their love for Israel, because this feeling has become the object of such vicious criticism and because it is too readily confused with the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.  Or, perhaps Jews can close their eyes and accept the only reality left to them, namely to criticize Israeli politics for not being sufficiently pro-Palestinian. 

Or, Jews can make the ultimate choice.  They can leave France.  The France where Léon Blum and Pierre Mendès were born—Jews who fought for and helped to build this Republic. 

In 2002, more than 2500 Jews left France.  As for we who remain?  We find ourselves haunted by a question that was once unthinkable: For how long shall we still able to say that the France of “liberté, égalité, et fraternité” is indeed our country?