In four months France will host the Paris Olympics, but which France will show up? Torn between tradition and modernity, the country is in the midst of an identity crisis.
The likely selection for the opening ceremony of Aya Nakamura, a superstar Franco-Malian singer whose slang-spiced lyrics are some distance from academic French, has sparked an uproar over issues of racial and linguistic propriety and immigration policy. Right-wing critics say Ms. Nakamura’s music does not represent France, and the prospect of her performance has led to a barrage of racist abuse online against her. The Paris prosecutor’s office has launched an investigation.
The outcry has fueled a row over an official poster unveiled this month: a pastel rendering of the city’s crowded landmarks in a busy style reminiscent of “Where’s Waldo?” child books.
Right-wing critics attacked the image as a deliberate dissolution of the French nation and its history into a sea of sugary, bland blandness most evident in the removal of the cross above the golden dome of the Invalides, the former military hospital where Napoleon is buried. An opinion piece in the right-wing Journal du Dimanche said “the malaise of a nation in the throes of deconstruction” was on full display.
The rapid immersion of the Olympics in France’s culture wars has its roots in a February 19 meeting at the Elysee Palace between President Emmanuel Macron and Ms Nakamura, 28. Mr Macron, doubling as artistic director of the Olympics, asked if he would play.
Ms Nakamura is by far France’s most popular singer at home and abroad, with 25 top 10 singles in France and over 20 million followers on social media. Born Aya Danioko in Bamako, Mali, she took her stage name from a character on “Heroes,” a sci-fi series on NBC. Raised in a Paris suburb, she mixes French lyrics with Arabic, English and West African dialects such as Bambara, her parents’ Malian language, in songs that combine R&B, zouk and Afropop beats.
“This is not a beautiful symbol, it is a new challenge from Emmanuel Macron, who has to wake up every morning and wonder how he can humiliate the French people,” Marine Le Pen, leader of the far-right National Rally party. he told France Inter radio, referring to the possible selection of Ms. Nakamura. He insisted that Ms. Nakamura sang the language of “who knows what” — certainly not French — and was unfit to represent the country.
Ms. Nakamura, who declined an interview request, has not spoken publicly about the outrage beyond a few posts on social media. To X, he answered to the attacks by saying “you can be racist, but not deaf”. Naturalized in 2021, the singer holds dual French and Malian citizenship. But in a country often comfortable with its changing population — more diverse, less white, more challenging the French model of assimilation that smacks of identity into supposedly undifferentiated citizenship — it is at a rift.
“There is an identity panic,” said Rokhaya Diallo, a French writer, director and activist. “I think France doesn’t want to see itself as it really is.” Citing soccer star Kylian Mbappé and Ms Nakamura, Ms Diallo suggested “a white France feels threatened in a way it didn’t 30 years ago”.
Ms. Nakamura is being held to an unfair standard because of her past, Ms. Diallo added. “Her linguistic creativity will be perceived as incompetence instead of artistic talent,” he said, because the focus solely on the artist’s lyrics ignored the inventive musicianship of her songs.
The eldest of five siblings, Ms. Nakamura, who is a single mother of two, was born into a family of giro or traditional West African musicians and storytellers. “Everyone sings in my family,” she told Le Monde in 2017. “But I’m the only one who dared to sing ‘really.’
Her music has few overt political messages. She told the New York Times in 2019, “I’m happy if my songs speak for themselves.” But she has also said she recognizes her position as a feminist role model. Her lyrics are often an ode to emancipated women firmly in control of their lives and unabashed about their sexuality.
“Early in my career, I was rather skeptical of this idea of a model,” Ms. Nakamura told CB News, a marketing and public relations trade publication, in December. “But it’s a reality: I have influence. If, through my work and my engagements, I empower some women to assert themselves, then that is something to be proud of.”
The furor over its possible interpretation reflects a fractured France. Some see a reactionary nation intent on ignoring how large-scale immigration, particularly from North Africa, has enriched the country hosting the 33rd Summer Olympics of the modern era. Celebrities, left-wing politicians and government officials are backing the idea of Ms Nakamura taking a prominent role in the ceremony.
Others, especially on the right, see a multicultural France intent on hiding its Christian roots, even the nation itself, especially with the erasure of the cross from the dome of the Invalides and the absence of a single French flag on the official poster. Soft pinks, purples and greens are favored over the bold blues, whites and reds of France.
“Every time the world watches us, we give the impression that we don’t embrace who we are,” Marion Marechal, Mrs Le Pen’s niece and leader of the far-right Reconquête party, said on French television last week.
Then there is the question of the language in this country of the French Academy, which was founded in 1634 to promote and protect the French language. He takes on the task of shielding the country from the “brainless Globish,” as one of the 40 members once put it, and he does so with fervor, albeit with diminishing success as France succumbs to a world of “les startuppers.”
“There is a kind of language religion in France,” says Julien Barret, a linguist and writer who has written an online glossary of the language that prevails in the banlieues where Ms. Nakamura grew up. “French identity is being confused with the French language,” he added, which amounts to a “cult of purity.”
This so-called purity has long since ceased to exist. France’s former African colonies are increasingly imbuing the language with their own expressions. Singers and rappers, often raised in immigrant families, have coined new terms. “You can’t write a song like you write a school paper,” Mr. Barret said.
Ms. Nakamura’s hits on the dance floor use an eclectic mix of French argot like verlan, which reverses the syllable order. West African dialect such as Nouchi in Ivory Coast. and innovative turns of phrase that are sometimes silly but quickly catch on.
On “Djadja,” her 2018 song that has become an anthem for female empowerment, she calls out a man who lies about sleeping with her by singing “I’m not your kitty,Using a centuries-old French term for whore. It has been streamed about a billion times.
Another widely popular song is “Pookie” – a diminutive for shirt, Romany-derived slang for traitor or rat.
During the meeting with Mr Macron, which was first revealed by L’Express magazine, the president asked Ms Nakamura which French singer she liked. Her answer was Édith Piaf, the legendary artist who died in 1963 and had no regrets.
So Mr. Macron suggested to Ms. Nakamura — in an account the presidency did not dispute — why not sing Piaf to open the Olympics?
The idea is still under consideration.
For some, Ms. Nakamura channeling Piaf might be the perfect tribute to “La Vie en Rose,” Piaf’s immortal ode to Parisian romantic love. Bruno Le Maire, the economy minister – and occasional romance writer – said it would show “guilt” and “audacity”. Supporters have noted that the two singers grew up in poverty and came from immigrant backgrounds.
But a recent poll showed 63 percent of French people disapproved of Mr Macron’s idea, even though about half of those polled said they only knew Ms Nakamura by name.
Ms. Nakamura has faced criticism for her music in the past in France, where expectations of assimilation are high. Some on the right complain that she has become French, but she has shown more interest in her African roots or her American role models.
She responded to her critics on French television in 2019, saying of her music: “In the end, it speaks to everyone.”
“You don’t understand,” he added. “But you sing.”
The Olympics furor looks unlikely to subside anytime soon. As one commentator on France Inter radio said: “France has no oil, but we have discussions. In fact, we almost deserve a gold medal for it.”
