Perspective: The Paris Olympics reflect discomfortingly on France.
One reason organizing the Olympics is challenging is its complexity. It pushes a nation's government to its limits, placing immense pressure on the bureaucracy. Often, the cost overruns make a dent in public finances. But it also forces us to address bigger, disconcerting questions.
Chiefly, what does hosting the Olympics imply about our country? Following massive investment and years of preparations, what do we, the host nation, wish to present to the world? In France's case, with 10,000 athletes and 10 million spectators scheduled in a few weeks, the answer remains ambiguous.
Thus far, the lead-up to Paris 2024 has highlighted the country's deep divisions, its doubts and anxieties. Most of the attention has centered on the unprecedented opening ceremony on the river Seine, with boats carrying athletes through the center of Paris. It exudes French ambition and potential beauty, but some perceive a hint of arrogance.
Grandstanding appeals to leaders like President Emmanuel Macron and resonates more in a more self-assured France, not the present version that is unsure of itself. Instead, many are apprehensive.
The discord was amplified by the debate over the music for the opening ceremony. Since early February, the news that Mali-born and Paris-raised singer Aya Nakamura would perform triggered a polarizing response.
Her global fame and status as a top French artist were secondary to most. Neither her proposal to rework Edith Piaf's songs nor her inclusion provoked widespread approval.
Critics accused her of garishness, with far-right leader Marine Le Pen sarcastically claiming it would "humiliate" France. Some complained about her language skills. Their main objection seemed to be her not appearing or sounding "French" enough. (Nakamura responded with a song criticizing her detractors.)
It was expected that the Olympics would become a battleground in the "culture wars" over the country's identity and future, even more so during the European elections' campaign. Critics swiftly noticed that the official Olympics poster, a hand-drawn illustration of Paris, lacked a cross that should have been atop the Invalides landmark.
"What's the point of hosting the Olympics in France if we hide who we are?" asked Marion Marechal, a conservative who draws support from the country's disenchanted Catholics. Elsewhere, Paris' mayor defended a drag queen following her announcement that she'd run a leg of the Olympic torch relay.
So, what will it all signify? What statement will France share with the rest of the world? Will the controversy and self-doubt, the rancor and squabbling, vanish once the boats set sail on the shimmering Seine on July 26?
At present, the infrastructure is set up or nearing completion. Budget overruns are less than usual. The vision is breathtaking. The Games could symbolize French administration's efficiency and the enduring charm of the country, sparking national unity. A success could also be viewed as a victory for democracy in its conflict with global autocracies.
Despite Nakamura's stirring performance at the opening ceremony, expect a divided, self-critical nation to revert to its usual divisiveness after the Games.
Read also:
Despite the debate surrounding Aya Nakamura's involvement in the opening ceremony, numerous individuals within France hold strong opinions about her representation, with criticism focusing on her perceived lack of Frenchness.
In light of the varying perspectives on the Olympics and France's national identity, it is essential to examine the messages and implications that the Paris 2024 Games will convey both domestically and internationally.
