The attack on the French satirical
weekly Charlie Hebdo has sent shock waves through France and beyond. Not
only because 12 people have been killed in cold blood and many were wounded in
what was the deadliest terrorist attack in France since 1961, when right
wingers bombed a train killing 28 people. Not only because, after an attack in
neighboring Belgium last May and French citizens joining extremist fighters in Syria and Iraq in recent months, the
country feared something dramatic might happen soon, and that it eventually
did.
The Charlie Hebdo attack is
being viewed by French society as a direct assault against the Republic's
fundamental pillars: freedom of expression--even if the ideas offend, shock,
and disturb--and secularism, along with its corollary, the right to criticize
or ridicule religious beliefs.
Charlie Hebdo has always been controversial but, despite its anarchistic
tendencies, it was to some extent part of the media establishment.
Left-leaning, abrasive, no-holds-barred, atheistic, rabidly anti-fundamentalist,
it has had the knack of upsetting a long list of personalities, institutions,
and countries.
While the targets of its satire may not have been pleased to be
in its pages, the magazine's cocktail of wild derision, savage headlines, and
sometimes bawdry humor defined its role alongside the mainstream media in
upholding freedom of expression and of the press. It was heir to a tradition of
19th-century cartoonists and humorists, from Daumier and Charles Philipon, who
today belong in the pantheon of French journalism and politics.
The murdered cartoonists were icons.
Even if many French did not buy the paper, they often flipped through its pages
at newsstands to see how far it would go in its caricatures of heads of state,
businessmen, or religious leaders including the Pope and mullahs.
These noisy journalists were strong
characters who left no one indifferent. Jean Cabut, the 76-year-old known as
Cabu, and Georges Wolinski, 80, had been there for decades and were among its
founding bylines. Over the course of their careers they had accompanied a
generation from the revolutionary Paris of May 1968 to the current age of
economic malaise, religious fundamentalism, and national populism. They were
patriarchs who had refused to put their pens in the drawer and, because of
their passion, they were in Charlie Hebdo's office on this fateful day.
The killings have been a shock to
French journalism. Charlie Hebdo's cartoonists were not always endorsed by their colleagues, who criticized the
weekly's editorial choices or even accused it of provoking religious
fundamentalists. But the profession had always come together to defend the
weekly each time it was the victim of threats or legal challenges. All the
French and a large part of the international media have expressed their sadness
and outrage. Fellow cartoonists have made tender homages, highlighting that the
pen will always be stronger than the gun. Radio France, Le Monde, and
France Télévisions announced in a joint statement that they would provide the weekly with the
means to continue to publish. A few hours after the attack and after the
explosion of sadness and anger on social media networks, thousands of people
spontaneously assembled and demonstrated in cities across the world. Leading politicians and trade unionists,
who sometimes were remorselessly lampooned by the weekly, called for solidarity marches and vigils. Many feel that a
line has been crossed.
This extreme violence happened at a
moment of intense debate on the place of Islam in France, in the
midst of the rise the nationalist National Front, and on the day best-selling writer Michel
Houellebecq published his novel, Submission, which imagines the
victory of a French Muslim in the 2022 presidential elections.
Charlie Hebdo, which was so often on the edges of politics and unnerving
the establishment, is today the symbol of the core values of French democracy.
"Together," the word has spread in every corner, not only among
journalists but also among citizens. #JeSuisCharlie (I am Charlie), the hashtag
trending on Twitter, has been held on placards by demonstrators from Paris to
Lyon and Brussels. The shooting may be claimed by its perpetrators as revenge
against the magazine, but many commentators see it as an attack against a cherished fundamental freedom.
Will this unanimity last beyond the
first reactions of indignation? Will the emotions be channeled towards
retribution and stigmatization? Will some authorities call for more
responsibility and respect for religions and communities to protect the harmony
in a multicultural society? Today France stands united, but in the aftermath of
this attack it could become further divided.
(CPJ Europe Representative Marthoz
is a Belgian journalist and longtime press freedom and human rights activist.
He teaches international journalism at the Université catholique de Louvain and
is a columnist for the Belgian daily Le
Soir)
No comments:
Post a Comment
Please restrict your comment to the subject matter.