France’s tenuous relationship with its Jewish population

OPINION:

An old joke asks the question: How many soldiers does it take to defend Paris? The answer is: We don’t know; it’s never been done.

Of course, this is not an accurate statement, but it does contain an element of truth about French history. Paris has been well defended on several occasions, but it has also fallen to enemies without much struggle at other times.

The Huns sought to seize Paris and were successfully warded off in the fifth century. Then, in 737, Charles Martel’s troops defeated a Muslim army headed for the city and would have readily captured it but for the defense mounted at Tours.

During the French Revolution, young revolutionary recruits stopped the Prussians and Austrians from marching on Paris to restore Louis XVI to the throne. During World War I, valiant French soldiers stopped rapidly advancing German troops at the Marne River. They spared Paris from the German onslaught, thus establishing that Paris could be defended in modern times.

On the other hand, foreign soldiers have occupied Paris on several occasions. In 1814, after Napoleon’s initial defeat, and yet again in 1815, after Napoleon’s second and final defeat, Paris fell to invading armies. It happened again in 1870, when the Prussians defeated Napoleon III at Sedan and marched to Paris. In 1940, Paris was declared an open city to avoid its destruction by the Nazis, and no defense was even undertaken, assuredly giving rise to the joke about Paris’ defense.

These vagaries are symptomatic of the roller-coaster quality of French history and its politics generally. This historical pattern came to mind as I read about what French President Emmanuel Macron had decided amid the Israel-Hamas war. Hostages are barbarically being held in Gaza Strip tunnels, yet he has decided to recognize a Palestinian state in September. I noted that this disturbing pronouncement follows Mr. Macron’s very recent declaration that he would designate July 12 of each year as a day to honor the memory of Alfred Dreyfus, the Jewish captain who was victimized in the late 19th century in an avalanche of antisemitism.

Going from honoring the suffering of a victim of antisemitism to rewarding the purveyors of the most heinous act of antisemitism in the post-World War II era in the space of several weeks is a stomach-churning roller-coaster ride. It is also a profoundly disturbing turn of events that denigrates the noble side of France and its history.

Just as the defense of Paris has had its proud moments and its tragic times, so France’s complex relationship with its Jewish community has had its ups and downs. During the French Revolution, France was the first major Western nation to grant full civic equality to its Jewish residents. In 1791, during the first phase of the revolution, the French National Assembly declared that Jews, the most oppressed of minorities, could benefit from all the advantages bestowed on the newly liberated French people.

This was followed by an erosion of those rights during the Reign of Terror and under Napoleon. Then Jewish life flourished in France until the notorious Dreyfus affair, which resulted in an outpouring of antisemitism. As a consequence of that event, France adopted a strict separation of church and state, which once again provided the Jewish community with a sense of freedom and security.

That security was shattered by the virulent antisemitism adopted as policy by the Vichy regime, which permitted and even participated in the killings of more than 75,000 Jews.

In 1995, President Jacques Chirac confronted France’s antisemitic past and publicly apologized for its terrible misconduct during World War II. For a time, it appeared as if France had finally purged itself of the scourge of antisemitism and reverted to its better nature as epitomized by the first phase of the French Revolution.

However, the schizophrenia that has lingered in France since the revolution seems to have resurfaced. In recent years, antisemitism has been resurgent, hiding behind the translucent curtain of anti-Zionism or opposition to the policies of the world’s only Jewish state, Israel. Led by the extensive and unassimilated immigrant community, which, for the most part, has not hidden its anti-Jewish sentiment, but also encouraged by the extreme left, notably the La France Insoumise party, there has been a profoundly disturbing rise in antisemitism.

Under a veneer of Enlightenment philosophy, most of France’s political elites have shied away from such prejudice. However, there has also arisen a desire on the part of some to appease the large and vociferous immigrant crowd and its supporters on the radical left. Fearful of being overwhelmed by those groups’ growing presence and virulence, the government has shown the unfortunately typical French vacillation between its best historical instincts and worst tendencies.

Mr. Macron, an intelligent and articulate leader, seems afflicted by this French ambivalence. In a poorly hidden attempt to placate his most vocal opponents, he has seemingly yielded to his nation’s lesser qualities. Rewarding terrorists, appeasing antisemites and espousing a dead-end foreign policy is hardly a means of emphasizing the glories of French history. Rather, it creates an echo of the worst that France has exhibited through the ages.

Hopefully, Mr. Macron will heed the French people, who, based on polling results, seem to be overwhelmingly opposed to his decision, and he will not proceed with his foolish and dangerous proposal to recognize a Palestinian state at this time.

Correction: An earlier version of this column incorrectly stated where Charles Martel’s troops defeated a Muslim army. The defense was mounted at Tours.

• Gerard Leval is a partner in the Washington office of a national law firm. He is the author of “Lobbying for Equality: Jacques Godard and the Struggle for Jewish Civil Rights During the French Revolution,” published by HUC Press.