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Paris Slowly Coming to Terms With a New Vulnerability Paris Slowly Coming to Terms With a New Vulnerability
(about 7 hours later)
PARIS — Two weeks after the Nov. 13 attacks here, many of the memorials around the monument in the Place de la République are bedraggled, the hand-drawn signs rain-soaked, the candles exhausted, the flowers dropping their petals. PARIS — Two weeks after the Nov. 13 attacks here, many of the memorials around the monument in the Place de la République are bedraggled, the hand-drawn signs rain-soaked, the candles exhausted, the flowers dropping their petals.
On the plinth, which bears a 31-foot bronze statue of Marianne, the embodiment of the French Republic, there are even more tattered posters that read, “Je suis Charlie,” remnants of the solidarity after the January attacks in which Islamist extremists struck the satirical weekly Charlie Hebdo and a kosher supermarket.On the plinth, which bears a 31-foot bronze statue of Marianne, the embodiment of the French Republic, there are even more tattered posters that read, “Je suis Charlie,” remnants of the solidarity after the January attacks in which Islamist extremists struck the satirical weekly Charlie Hebdo and a kosher supermarket.
The assaults two weeks ago, however, were different — random killings of 130 people at a concert, outside a soccer game and on the terraces of cafes and clubs. While the authorities at first flooded the streets with police officers and soldiers to reassure the public, they are less visible now, with more infrequent patrols of tourist spots and transport hubs. Security guards at some stores still inspect customers’ bags and ask them to open their coats, but much of that scrutiny appears to be fading, too. The assaults two weeks ago, however, were different — random killings of 130 people at a concert, outside a soccer game and on the terraces of cafes and clubs. While the authorities at first flooded the streets with police officers and soldiers to reassure the public, they are less visible now, with more infrequent patrols of tourist spots and transport hubs. Security guards at some stores still inspect customers’ bags and ask them to open their coats, but that scrutiny appears to be fading, too.
But as Paris memorialized the dead on Friday in a solemn ceremony, it remained a city in shock — tétanisée, as the French say. The Champs-Élysées, with its magnificent Christmas illuminations and the Cartier store looking like a massive present with a bright red ribbon of lights, is unusually empty. Tourists have canceled their trips and locals have rushed to get home, away from another potential target. But as Paris memorialized the dead on Friday in a solemn ceremony, it remained a city in shock — tétanisée, as the French say. The Champs-Élysées, with its magnificent Christmas illuminations and the Cartier store looking like a massive present with a bright red ribbon of lights, is unusually empty. Tourists have canceled their trips, and locals have rushed to get home, away from another potential target.
Paris is only slowly coming to terms with the idea that this assault by Islamic State supporters, many of them French-born, is unlikely to be the last.Paris is only slowly coming to terms with the idea that this assault by Islamic State supporters, many of them French-born, is unlikely to be the last.
Bouchra Wagner, 45, owns two market stands with her husband at the Marché des Enfants Rouges, near the Bataclan concert hall that was one of the attackers’ targets. Born in Casablanca, she has been in France for more than 20 years. “We are all in mourning,” she said. “It has become part of our daily life, we are living with it now.” Bouchra Wagner, 45, owns two market stands with her husband at the Marché des Enfants Rouges, near the Bataclan concert hall that was one of the attackers’ targets. Born in Casablanca, she has been in France for more than 20 years.
“We are all in mourning,” she said. “It has become part of our daily life; we are living with it now.”
Another attack could occur, she said, “whenever, wherever.”Another attack could occur, she said, “whenever, wherever.”
Bruno de Frias, 30, was at Le Carillon bar with his girlfriend and two friends when the terrorists started shooting and escaped through the kitchen. “Everyone is telling me to see a psychologist, but I just don’t have time,” he said. “But it’s deep in here,” he added, pointing to his middle, and the memories come back “like flashes.”Bruno de Frias, 30, was at Le Carillon bar with his girlfriend and two friends when the terrorists started shooting and escaped through the kitchen. “Everyone is telling me to see a psychologist, but I just don’t have time,” he said. “But it’s deep in here,” he added, pointing to his middle, and the memories come back “like flashes.”
“People are afraid,” Mr. de Frias said. “It makes me feel worried about the city.”“People are afraid,” Mr. de Frias said. “It makes me feel worried about the city.”
A florist, he said he has been selling “tons of white roses” for those who want to remember the dead of the Bataclan massacre by placing tributes at the foot of Marianne. Now, he said, “we’ve started to see more and more people buying flowers for gifts.”A florist, he said he has been selling “tons of white roses” for those who want to remember the dead of the Bataclan massacre by placing tributes at the foot of Marianne. Now, he said, “we’ve started to see more and more people buying flowers for gifts.”
“It’s good, it means Parisians are going out again,” he added. “I think we all want to move on.”“It’s good, it means Parisians are going out again,” he added. “I think we all want to move on.”
A small older woman hovered near the statue to Marianne, fumbling with her umbrella and her purse. She brought a candle to honor the dead, but it was too wet that day, she said, so she would come back later. A small older woman hovered near the statue of Marianne, fumbling with her umbrella and her purse. She brought a candle to honor the dead, but it was too wet that day, she said, so she would come back later.
“I came also to pay respect to the victims of 1939-44,” she said. “The victims of the Holocaust are the same,” casualties of the same kind of hatred. Her name, she said, is France Cohen, and she is 78; her father, who was Jewish, was deported during World War II and she reunited with her parents only after the war.“I came also to pay respect to the victims of 1939-44,” she said. “The victims of the Holocaust are the same,” casualties of the same kind of hatred. Her name, she said, is France Cohen, and she is 78; her father, who was Jewish, was deported during World War II and she reunited with her parents only after the war.
The recent violence is a reminder of the bloody history of Paris — the Revolution, the Commune, the German occupations, the bombings around the Algerian war and later. Paris may be, for many, the dream of a sweet, bourgeois life, with elegant aesthetics and fine food, but beyond the patterned cobblestones, it is also a city that has had long experience with enduring trauma.The recent violence is a reminder of the bloody history of Paris — the Revolution, the Commune, the German occupations, the bombings around the Algerian war and later. Paris may be, for many, the dream of a sweet, bourgeois life, with elegant aesthetics and fine food, but beyond the patterned cobblestones, it is also a city that has had long experience with enduring trauma.
There is another Paris, too, the Paris of the banlieues, the poor, heavily immigrant suburbs, many of them mostly Muslim and black. Clichy-sous-Bois, where the deaths of teenagers fleeing the police set off nationwide rioting 10 years ago, remains one of the poorest towns in France, with unemployment around 40 percent and half the population under 25.There is another Paris, too, the Paris of the banlieues, the poor, heavily immigrant suburbs, many of them mostly Muslim and black. Clichy-sous-Bois, where the deaths of teenagers fleeing the police set off nationwide rioting 10 years ago, remains one of the poorest towns in France, with unemployment around 40 percent and half the population under 25.
Only 10 miles from central Paris, there is still no major road or mass transit station despite a decade of promises, and it usually takes 90 minutes to commute each way. In the 10 months since the Charlie Hebdo attacks, when Prime Minister Manuel Valls called the situation in places like Clichy “territorial, social, ethnic apartheid,” there has been some new investment.Only 10 miles from central Paris, there is still no major road or mass transit station despite a decade of promises, and it usually takes 90 minutes to commute each way. In the 10 months since the Charlie Hebdo attacks, when Prime Minister Manuel Valls called the situation in places like Clichy “territorial, social, ethnic apartheid,” there has been some new investment.
A tram line connecting Clichy to the main suburban railway at Aulnay-sous-Bois is finally under construction, scheduled to open by the winter of 2018, according to the mayor, Olivier Klein, with a subway stop planned for 2023. Some redevelopment has occurred, with old housing projects ripped down for newer construction. “Security is also better,” said an older Algerian-born man playing cards, who declined to provide his name. “The police are more visible and make more rounds.”A tram line connecting Clichy to the main suburban railway at Aulnay-sous-Bois is finally under construction, scheduled to open by the winter of 2018, according to the mayor, Olivier Klein, with a subway stop planned for 2023. Some redevelopment has occurred, with old housing projects ripped down for newer construction. “Security is also better,” said an older Algerian-born man playing cards, who declined to provide his name. “The police are more visible and make more rounds.”
In the last two weeks, there has been a heavy police presence in Clichy, with more patrols and more random stops, or “controls,” to check identification papers. “We’re controlled everywhere now,” said Madalin Silagyi, 22, Romanian-born but in France for a decade. “In the stations, in the streets, especially the youth.”In the last two weeks, there has been a heavy police presence in Clichy, with more patrols and more random stops, or “controls,” to check identification papers. “We’re controlled everywhere now,” said Madalin Silagyi, 22, Romanian-born but in France for a decade. “In the stations, in the streets, especially the youth.”
Some Muslims and blacks say they feel safer here than in Paris. It is in the city where they are the subject of skeptical looks and police stops.Some Muslims and blacks say they feel safer here than in Paris. It is in the city where they are the subject of skeptical looks and police stops.
“Paris is more afraid,” Mr. Silagyi said. “They’d never attack us here,” he said about terrorists. “They want to hit the French population. Here there are not a lot of French, like in Paris. Here there are Arabs and blacks.”“Paris is more afraid,” Mr. Silagyi said. “They’d never attack us here,” he said about terrorists. “They want to hit the French population. Here there are not a lot of French, like in Paris. Here there are Arabs and blacks.”
Of course, many of the people here are French-born, but don’t feel “French” in the same way as they imagine a white Roman Catholic does. They feel “écarté,” or rejected. Osama Ouriemchi, 37, said, “it’s worse than after Charlie Hebdo,” because “these attacks give such a bad image to the religion, such a false image,” and “now in Paris they look at all of us with suspicion, in the shops, on the metro.” Of course, many of the people here are French-born, but do not feel “French” in the same way as they imagine a white Roman Catholic does. They feel “écarté,” or rejected. Osama Ouriemchi, 37, said, “It’s worse than after Charlie Hebdo” because “these attacks give such a bad image to the religion, such a false image,” and “now in Paris they look at all of us with suspicion, in the shops, on the metro.”
Cabra Yakici, 27, who works in Les Bruyères cafe in the center of Clichy, said that “young people are afraid to go into Paris.” He was born here, but his mother is Moroccan. In Clichy, he said, “we feel at home, we feel more secure here, because if something happens, it’s going to happen there.” Cabra Yakici, 27, who works in Les Bruyères cafe in the center of Clichy-sous-Bois, said that “young people are afraid to go into Paris.” He was born here, but his mother is Moroccan. In Clichy, he said, “We feel at home, we feel more secure here, because if something happens, it’s going to happen there.”
The suburbs are poor, Mr. Yakici said. “But what I like is the respect people show one another and they help one another. This is something we don’t see in Paris.”The suburbs are poor, Mr. Yakici said. “But what I like is the respect people show one another and they help one another. This is something we don’t see in Paris.”
Outside the nearby Café Béni Snassen Angad, named after a mountain range in Morocco, young men in black athletic clothing were smoking marijuana and hanging out. Asked about the attacks in Paris, Mahdi, 21, born in France to Moroccan parents, said, “It’s a Zionist plot.” Why? “I’ve seen these videos that prove it,” he said, declining to provide his last name. “It’s the Zionists and it’s all about money.”Outside the nearby Café Béni Snassen Angad, named after a mountain range in Morocco, young men in black athletic clothing were smoking marijuana and hanging out. Asked about the attacks in Paris, Mahdi, 21, born in France to Moroccan parents, said, “It’s a Zionist plot.” Why? “I’ve seen these videos that prove it,” he said, declining to provide his last name. “It’s the Zionists and it’s all about money.”
His friends all agreed.His friends all agreed.
Another video, he said, proved that Mohammed Merah, who in 2012 killed Muslim French soldiers and then Jews in Toulouse in the name of Al Qaeda, “really had blue eyes” and wasn’t a Muslim at all. “They pretend that Muslims are the terrorists, but it’s not what religion is about,” Mahdi said. “We as Muslims are always humiliated.” Another video, he said, proved that Mohammed Merah, who in 2012 killed Muslim French soldiers and then Jews in Toulouse in the name of Al Qaeda, “really had blue eyes” and was not a Muslim at all. “They pretend that Muslims are the terrorists, but it’s not what religion is about,” Mahdi said. “We as Muslims are always humiliated.”
Adi Camara, 25, whose parents are from Mali, nodded. He has been out of work for three months and is looking, but “I feel targeted in Paris,” he said. “As a Muslim, a black, it’s all the same.”Adi Camara, 25, whose parents are from Mali, nodded. He has been out of work for three months and is looking, but “I feel targeted in Paris,” he said. “As a Muslim, a black, it’s all the same.”
He said with a sigh: “It’s complicated in France.” He added with a sigh, “It’s complicated in France.”
Back in Paris proper, Geoffrey Cromier, 44, a hairdresser, is the president of the storekeepers association of Rue de Bretagne, in the Marais. He has lost half his clients — tourists, he said, who canceled their trips here. “Parisians will recover and go back to their daily habits,” he said. “But the tourists? I’m afraid a substantial part of them will disappear, at least through Christmas and the New Year.”Back in Paris proper, Geoffrey Cromier, 44, a hairdresser, is the president of the storekeepers association of Rue de Bretagne, in the Marais. He has lost half his clients — tourists, he said, who canceled their trips here. “Parisians will recover and go back to their daily habits,” he said. “But the tourists? I’m afraid a substantial part of them will disappear, at least through Christmas and the New Year.”
Ms. Wagner, the Moroccan-born market-stand owner, said that her business has been hit by the loss of tourism, which will be slow to come back. “But let’s put things into perspective,” she said. “We’re alive.”Ms. Wagner, the Moroccan-born market-stand owner, said that her business has been hit by the loss of tourism, which will be slow to come back. “But let’s put things into perspective,” she said. “We’re alive.”