Hassen Chalghoumi tells RUADHÁN Mac CORMAICwhy he favours the face veil ban and better relations with Jews
HASSEN CHALGHOUMI arrives, flanked by two plain-clothed police bodyguards and a small entourage, looking mildly embarrassed to find himself amidst such a fuss. He must be accustomed to it by now.
Tall, mild-mannered and reserved, the 39-year-old imam of Drancy mosque, north of Paris, has become one of France’s most prominent Muslim leaders.
His public declarations of support for Nicolas Sarkozy’s face veil ban, his work to improve relations with Jewish groups and his warnings about the rise of radical Islam in France have brought him the embrace of the French establishment – and death threats from Muslims whose wrath he has provoked. To the former, his stance speaks of courage and steel; to the latter, publicity-seeking opportunism and betrayal.
Angry demonstrations have taken place outside his mosque.
A day after he told a ceremony in Drancy – the site of a second World War transit camp used to send thousands of French Jews to Nazi death camps – that “the children of Israel and of Ishmael are cousins, and remain so today”, his home was ransacked.
Chalghoumi is convinced he has the support of the muted middle – those among France’s imams and the faithful who agree with his positions but are cowed by the fear of provoking the loud, militant minority.
“I’m not the only one,” he says. “I received some expressions of support from some imams, but unfortunately they suffered the consequences at their mosques. Some were forced out. Others are afraid of enduring six or seven months of protests in front of their mosque. It’s not easy.”
Another reason for the silence from his fellow imams, says Chalghoumi – a naturalised French citizen who was born and brought up in Tunisia – is the pivotal role played by foreign governments in French Islam.
“The majority of imams are foreign civil servants,” he says flatly. “You can’t ask an imam who is paid by the Algerian or Moroccan embassy, or worse, who is paid from the petro-dollars of the emirs – you can’t ask him to be free. He cannot be free.”
It's an argument that recurs in Chalghoumi's new book For A French Islam, in which he warns that secular France's reluctance to involve itself in training imams means a majority of Muslim places of worship are controlled by foreigners who have little understanding of the country's republican values.
“Unfortunately, French Islam has been neglected for 50 years. Secularism is not an excuse for selling off the state’s sovereignty,” he says, his voice rising as he becomes more animated.
“Neither should it allow the state to sub-contract French Islam to foreign governments or extremist sects.”
To Chalghoumi’s moderate Muslim critics, he has alienated many like-minded members of the community by speaking out too provocatively.
The imam's public position on the face veil ban has also put him in an awkward position, defending the idea of a president who is widely loathed by young Muslims in the banlieues, or suburbs.
He is careful not to identify himself with Sarkozy – in an hour-long conversation, he doesn't mention the president's name once – and is at pains to point to the "social misery" in the banlieuesand the "failure" of government policy on integration.
While he sees the veil ban as a practical measure – “Your face is your identity”– he resents that the veil helps reinforce the prejudices of Islam’s critics.
“They say women are treated in this way, that she has her place in Islam. And here we give them the proof. I say, No, that’s not Islam. It’s not the spirit of Islam either.”
When the protests at the Drancy mosque began earlier this year, loyal members of the community took turns to guard Chalghoumi’s house at night.
Now he has the full-time protection of two bodyguards provided by the interior ministry. His daily routine is restricted, and he recalls how one day his daughter came home from school to say she had been told her father was “the Jews’ imam”.
“My daily life is not easy these days – it’s constant vigilance, unfortunately . . . But I try to show my children that everything is going very well despite it all.
“You have to have courage. It’s for them that I do this – for my wife, for our children’s future.”