Located on the banks of the Seine River, the Cité du Cinema is best known for its film production.
But by July, the cavernous studio space will be transformed into the heart of the Olympic Village in Paris.
Athletes from all countries and cultures sit across from each other in the cafeteria, sharing meals and stories. This is a multicultural melting pot where people of different creeds and skin colors gather every four years.
However, the host's dress code is different from the guest's.
In September, the International Olympic Committee (IOC) clarified that athletes in Paris will be able to represent themselves and their faith, not just their country.
“IOC rules apply to the Olympic Village,” an IOC spokesperson told Reuters.
“There are no restrictions on wearing the hijab or other religious or cultural attire.”
However, the French team is being told a different story.
“No Hijab” [a type of headscarf that covers the head and neck, but leaves the face clear] This is the result of two discriminations. It’s Islamophobic, but it’s also sexist,” says Veronica Noseda, a soccer player for Les Degomemes, a Parisian soccer club founded to fight discrimination.
Achille Toufai, who played at international level in his native Lebanon and joined Lyon in 2021, agrees.
“This is not really a problem for French society, it's a problem for the government,” she says.
“In recent years, there has been a lot of hatred towards Muslims in France, and it's reflected in sports.”
This summer and the arrival of the Olympics in Paris will be the clearest demonstration of France's unique and divisive concept in sport.
First appearing during the French Revolution, liberté, égalite, and fraternité may be the most famous expressions of what France aspires to be. It appears on the front of the Constitution, on coins, stamps, and public buildings.
Less famous and difficult to translate is another important tenet of the French Republic: laïcité.
Laïcité, often translated into English as secularism, does not stipulate that the French people should abolish any religious practices or symbols, but instead that the state and public institutions should explicitly stipulates that they should be freed from
The idea is hotly contested in France, especially following the resurgence of far-right politics that has coincided with a spate of terrorist attacks over the past decade.
French President Emmanuel Macron has found himself defining the term multiple times.
“The problem is not the rhysite,” he said in an October 2020 talk.
“Laïcité in the French Republic means the freedom to believe or not to believe, the possibility to practice one's religion as long as law and order are ensured.
“Laïcit means national neutrality. It does not mean excluding religion from society or the public sphere. A united France will be strengthened by laïcit.”
The 2004 law attempted to clarify the concept of banning “flashy” religious symbols in state schools without citing specific examples.
While the Sikh turban, Jewish kippah, and Christian large cross have been interpreted as the negative aspects of laicite, most of the discussion has focused on head coverings among Western Europe's largest Muslim population. is in focus.
In September, French Sports Minister Amélie Houdea-Castella (a former professional tennis player who lost to Martina Hingis in the 1994 Wimbledon junior semi-finals) announced that the French Olympic team represents the French people and is funded by the people. The organization was recognized as having undergone a It is bound by lycite.
“It means absolute neutrality in public services,” she said. “The French team does not wear scarves.''
Athletes from other countries will be free to wear religious symbols at the Paris 2024 Olympic Village. However, even if members of the French team wanted to abide by their country's rules, they cannot.
This stance has been criticized by some international organizations.
Human rights charity Amnesty International added: “The ban on wearing religious headscarves in public places violates the rights of Muslim women.”
However, the ban has considerable support in France.
“This is a complex and very sensitive issue,” said Sébastien Meillard, an associate fellow at Chatham House think tank, who has spent much of his career reporting on French politics and society.
“When I moved from Paris to London, that was one of the big differences. In England, religion is expressed very casually, whereas in Paris, religion is often seen as more provocative. .”
Maillard points to another smaller controversy surrounding the exclusion of religious symbols from Paris 2024.
In March, the official poster for the game was released, a stylized image of Parisian landmarks coming together to form a stadium.
The artist omits the golden cross at the top of the Invalides hotel, and how strictly the Olympics, which will cost French taxpayers billions of euros, will adhere to the principles of laïcité. caused a debate.
“Today's discussions often focus on Muslim communities who want to participate fully in French society, but also follow their religion in their own way,” Maillard said. To tell. “We’ve had a lot of discussions about how that fits.
“The French Republic was founded partly on the rejection of Catholicism and feels threatened whenever religion influences France. There is a strong sense of fear among generations.
This debate is being played out in the areas where demographic differences are most pronounced: education as well as sports.
Last year, during Ramadan (a month-long fast observed by Muslims from sunrise to sunset), the French Football Federation (FFF) asked referees not to interrupt matches for players to break their fast. A notice was issued. Failure to respect the provisions of FFF laws and regulations. ”
This year, as Ramadan coincided with the international holiday, FFF ensured that meal and training timings would not be changed to accommodate Muslim players, and that players would There was no practical preclude from fasting.
Another talented up-and-coming player in another sport, basketball player Diaba Konate, who has represented France at U-23 level, said she was “heartbroken” by the hijab ban. , moved to the United States.
Muslim female players are generally prohibited from wearing headscarves, even in low-level local matches, because the leagues are organized and run by public authorities. Protective scrum caps, a workaround attempted by some players, were also deemed not to comply with the rules by some referees.
Applying Lycite to the grassroots of sports means hijab-wearing athletes usually compromise or drop out before reaching the biggest stage.
However, this summer will present them with the toughest dilemma yet. The choice is whether to wear the national team uniform at the 2024 Paris Games or express personal beliefs.
Expectations have changed in other areas of the sport as well.
Moroccan defender Nohaira Benzina made history at last summer's Women's Football World Cup.
She became the first player to wear a hijab during a World Cup match against South Korea after FIFA changed its rules in 2014 to allow head coverings for religious reasons.
At Rio 2016, fencer Ibtihaj Muhammad made headlines when he became the first American to wear a headscarf to the Olympics. She was later one of the athletes used for the launch of a hijab made specifically for sports by a global American sports brand.
Another athlete who won medals at these competitions wearing a head covering, Iranian taekwondo athlete Kimia Alizadeh, has since moved to Germany, where she criticized the Iranian government's “mandatory hijab” policy.
She carried the refugee team's flag at the 2021 Tokyo Games and competed without a religious head covering.
Iqra Ismail can only speak for himself from a point of view from across the English Channel, where lycite is a foreign concept.
She is a director at Hilltop FC, the QPR Community Trust's Women's Refugee Football Project Coordinator, and is a Muslim who has loved sport since childhood.
“Wearing the hijab is part of my identity. When it comes to playing, I can't leave it outside the lines of the pitch,” she says.
“Football is a human right and everyone should definitely have the right to participate in football.”
Yasmin Abukar is the founder of Sisterhood FC, a Muslim women's football club in London.
“We asked Muslim girls why they stopped playing soccer, and the answers they gave us were very sad,” Abukal says of how the club was founded.
“Half of them quit because they felt there was no place for them. The other half felt they couldn't access football in a way that met their religious requirements.”
“As a young Muslim, I don't know how I would feel if the government told me I would not be allowed the freedom to practice my religion.
“I'm so grateful that my parents didn't move to France.”