by Alexander Dietz | Days of Glory revives questions about France’s dedication to equality.
It may have lost the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film to the excellent The Lives of Others, the German submission about surveillance and repression in East Berlin, but Rachid Bouchareb’s Days of Glory is still a great movie, and an important one. So important, in fact, that the film, which depicts the service of North African soldiers fighting to liberate France during World War II, caused the French government to grant full pensions to the 80,000 surviving veterans from its former colonies. Even after inspiring such a significant and tangible reform, however, the broader themes of division and inequality that it addresses still play a central, pernicious role in French society.
In many respects, Days of Glory is a typical war movie: it follows a diverse group of soldiers who train together, face difficult battles (both physical and emotional), and learn to overcome their differences. A talented cast, including the ordinarily comedic actor Jamel Debbouze in an exceptional dramatic role, complements the film’s estimable writing and direction, producing an exciting and enthralling story.
More significantly, however, the film deals with issues of ethnic division, as the North African soldiers fight for acceptance by their imperial “fatherland,” and never quite get it. The French title Indigènes, or “Natives,” therefore seems more appropriate than its English counterpart. In a memorable scene, a French army commander refers to the soldiers as “natives,” and his subordinate points out that they do not like to be called by that term. “Muslims, then,” the commander concedes, but the subordinate notes, “They don’t like that either, sir.” The commander asks, “Well, what should they be called?” The subordinate replies, “Men, sir.” Sadly, many French people did not think of Franco-Arabs as men even after their service to France, and many still fail to do so today. In the decades since the decline of the French empire, a growing Franco-Arabic underclass has been kept economically disadvantaged and socially isolated, stuck in the low-cost housing slums of the banlieue and shut off from full participation in business, politics, and other areas of public life.
Leftists (or “progressives,” as they vacuously have taken to calling themselves) at Tufts and elsewhere have a habit of praising all things foreign, especially all things European, and particularly all things French. Meanwhile, they disparage American culture, lifestyle, politics, foreign policy, and whatever else comes to mind as hopelessly backwards in comparison to their enlightened brethren to the north, south, east, and west. In a recent column for The Tufts Daily, junior Adam Winograd reported the lazy, hypocritical anti-Americanism prevalent among his countrymen studying abroad in Paris. “The most glaring and annoying custom of the Ameritrash is their constant bickering and debasement of the United States,” he wrote. “While dressed in their new, expensive clothes, they complain about America’s ‘rampant materialism,’ ignoring the fact that they nearly all come from upper-class families (Paris is expensive) or that France is a country obsessed with high-quality and luxury goods.”
Yet in terms of social tranquility and justice, America is kilometers ahead of its oldest ally. The struggle for equality has been central to the national narrative. From the Revolutionary War, fought in part because of the Crown’s refusal to give the colonists the full rights and representation of British citizens, to the Civil War and the civil rights movement, the realization of Thomas Jefferson’s declaration that all men are created equal has defined the country’s history and spirit. Although problems still arise, in Medford as well as in Los Angeles and New Orleans, the United States has achieved relative stability and fairness in gender, ethnicity, religion, and most importantly, race. The fact that a black man is presently a serious contender for the presidency counts for something, regardless of his apparent disdain for firm opinions not shared by conventional wisdom.
France, on the other hand, has avoided confronting uncomfortable issues, namely its past as a colonial power and its presently divided society. Thankfully, Days of Glory is only the latest in a score of films exposing its social ills. In 1995, Mathieu Kassovitz’s urban thriller La Haine (”Hate”) explored the racial and socioeconomic unrest arising out of the French banlieue, sporting the tagline jusqu’ici tout va bien… (”so far, so good…”) a decade before tensions exploded in a series of riots across the country. In 2005, Michael Haneke’s Caché (”Hidden”) examined the undercurrent of mistrust and anxiety between ethnically native French and Franco-Arabs. Even District B13, a spectacular if middlebrow action film released in 2004, centers around France’s social divide—the “B” stands for “banlieue.” If the silver screen is not evidence enough of the nation’s dire social situation, the xenophobic nationalist Jean-Marie Le Pen, a sort of Bizarro Barack Obama, won over 5.5 million votes as the runner-up in the 2002 presidential election. For the contest approaching in five weeks, the latest poll has him at 14% in a country of 64 million people.
Clearly, the dream of “liberté, égalité, fraternité” has not yet come true in France. If one is to learn anything from Days of Glory, it is that all people at least deserve some dignité.
Mr. Dietz is a freshman majoring in Political Science.
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