Teaching Arabic to France's immigrant Muslim population has become a highly politicised issue which has conflated the Arabic language with the Muslim religion when, in fact, they are best understood separately.
Populists and right-wing politicians exploit this conflation, using the fear of political Islam and extremism to make people suspicious of Arabic-speaking communities.
But even those who do not consider themselves to be right-wing also conflate Arabic and Islam, suggesting that the latter does not align with French values.
These attitudes contribute to the difficulties Muslims face in integrating into society, which treats those interested in learning Arabic with suspicion.
"There is a lack of political will to offer Arabic language courses in France," Mohammed Qarqour, director of the Arabic language teaching department at the Institut du Monde Arabe, or Arab World Institute, in Paris, told Al Majalla.
"Widespread misconceptions about Islam and the Arabic language exist, and certain segments of the French population associate the Arabic language with extremism and terrorism, which is simply not true."
Colonisation legacy
At the heart of the debate over learning Arabic and the identity of French Muslims lies the complex colonial history between France and Algeria, from which the largest French Muslim community originates.
Colonial-era France imposed its language and culture on Algeria in a bid to erase its Arab identity. These effects can still be seen in Algeria today.
France has historically imported cheap labour from North African countries, particularly Algeria. Since World War II, these workers and their families have formed a marginalised and excluded community, grappling with the complexities of their history of French colonisation.
For many French Muslims—who number around 6 million— Arabic is an integral part of their religious identity. This alarms a significant segment of the wider French population, which views Muslims as a threat to the unity and cohesion of society.
Security approach
So, these two primary concerns—Islamist terrorism and cultural separatism—have significantly complicated the inclusion of Arabic in the national education curriculum, unlike other languages such as Russian and German, as well as Chinese.
That is even though Arabic is France's most widely spoken foreign language, followed by that of the sizable Chinese community.
This taboo associated with Arabic reflects what Mima Chahal, a political science doctoral student in Marseille, France, calls a "security approach”, which links teaching Arabic to terrorism and political Islam.
Although Arabic began being offered in state schools in 2017, it has faced many challenges, including shortages of qualified teachers. Only around 200 Arabic teachers are employed across France, which isn't enough to meet the demand.
There is also a gap between secondary education and university-level tuition. Language researcher Miloud Grafi described it as “astonishing”, reflecting an elitist culture among top-level scholars in Islamic and Arab culture within universities, who typically do not engage with pre-university education.
Additionally, many graduate students of Arab origin do not pursue careers in teaching in France and often return to their home countries after completing their degrees.
"After settling in France, I attempted to find a teaching job given my qualifications and experience. But the bureaucratic obstacles made me abandon the idea," Abu Salma, an Arabic teacher from Syria who relocated to France in 2015, told Al Majalla.
Others have faced similar experiences with the national education system, who treat such job seekers with suspicion. Some schools with right-wing administrators purposely exclude Arabic language courses for political reasons.
But even in schools where Arabic is provided, it's not advertised.
"I was unaware my school offered Arabic courses, so I chose Spanish in middle school. When I began secondary school, I learned Arabic was available, but it was offered on a campus far away from where I live," one 16-year-old Morrocan high school student in Toulouse told Al Majalla.
"Additionally, my father would have to pay a fee for me to attend, so I stuck with Spanish as it was the easier and less costly choice."
