Why France's century-old Grand Mosque now sits at the heart of Europe's identity wars

In the heart of Paris, a century-old mosque built to honor Muslim soldiers who died fighting for France is now the stage for a different kind of battle: one over identity, belonging, and the soul of Europe. The Grand Mosque of Paris, inaugurated in 1926 to commemorate the 100,000 Muslims from France's colonial empire who perished in the trenches of World War I, has quietly become a flashpoint in France's fraught relationship with its Muslim minority. What began as a gesture of gratitude has turned into a symbol of exclusion, surveillance, and political polarization that now resonates far beyond France's borders, especially in South Asia, where Muslim communities watch with a mix of solidarity and caution.

The mosque's centennial arrives as France's secular model cracks under the weight of political Islam

France's secularism, or *laïcité*, has long been a point of pride, enshrined in law and celebrated as a bulwark against religious extremism. But the Grand Mosque's centenary is unfolding at a moment when that model is under unprecedented strain. The mosque's very existence was a paradox from the start: built by a colonial power that simultaneously exploited Muslim subjects and honored their sacrifices. Today, it stands as a monument to a France that no longer exists, a France that saw itself as a protector of Muslim communities rather than a surveiller of them. The irony is sharp: a mosque built to honor Muslim soldiers now sits in a city where Muslim women are barred from wearing headscarves in public, where mosques are monitored by intelligence services, and where the government has dissolved Muslim organizations deemed too radical. The centennial isn't just a celebration; it's a reckoning.

For South Asia, this reckoning is not abstract. France's struggle to integrate its Muslim population, now the largest in Europe, mirrors the challenges faced by India, Pakistan, and Bangladesh as they grapple with rising Islamophobia, anti-Muslim legislation, and the political weaponization of religion. In India, the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA) of 2019 and the 2024 inauguration of the Ram Mandir in Ayodhya have intensified debates about religious identity and citizenship, drawing parallels to France's debates about *laïcité* and national belonging. In Pakistan, the Grand Mosque's story resonates with the country's own fraught relationship with its Ahmadiyya and Shia minorities, where religious identity often trumps constitutional protections. The question for South Asia is whether France's centennial will serve as a warning or a blueprint.

From colonial tribute to modern battleground: A century of shifting meanings

The Grand Mosque of Paris was not just a religious building; it was a political statement. Inaugurated on July 15, 1926, by France's President Gaston Doumergue and Morocco's Sultan Yusef, the mosque was a gift to the Muslim soldiers of the French colonial army who died in World War I. Its architecture, a blend of traditional Moroccan and French styles, was meant to symbolize the harmony between France and its Muslim subjects. But that harmony was always illusory. France's colonial rule in North Africa and the Middle East was built on exploitation, and the mosque's construction was as much about propaganda as it was about gratitude. The soldiers it honored were often conscripted, their sacrifices used to justify further colonial expansion.

By the 1980s, the mosque had taken on a new role: as a symbol of France's growing Muslim population. As immigration from former French colonies surged, the Grand Mosque became a center of religious and cultural life for France's Muslim communities. But it also became a target. In 1995, the mosque was the site of a failed bomb attack by Algerian Islamists, a precursor to the wave of terrorism that would later engulf France. The attack forced the mosque to tighten security and marked the beginning of a new era, one in which the Grand Mosque was no longer just a place of worship but a symbol of France's struggle with Islamist extremism. Today, the mosque is one of 2,500 in France that fall under the watchful eye of the government's "Mosque Oversight Mission," a program launched in 2021 to monitor imams and funding sources. The centennial celebrations, attended by French President Emmanuel Macron and leaders from Muslim-majority countries, are a reminder that the mosque's legacy is as contested as ever.

For South Asia, the mosque's transformation offers a cautionary tale. In Pakistan, the 2017 blasphemy crisis at the Tehreek-e-Labbaik Pakistan (TLP) protests, which paralyzed the country for weeks, showed how religious sentiment can be mobilized for political ends. In Bangladesh, the rise of Islamist groups like Hefazat-e-Islam has forced the government to balance secularism with religious sensitivities. The Grand Mosque's story is a reminder that when governments attempt to control or instrumentalize religion, the results are rarely predictable. The mosque's centennial is not just a celebration of the past; it's a warning about the future of secularism in an increasingly polarized world.

What happened: A centennial celebration amid political tension

According to reporting by Al Jazeera, the Grand Mosque of Paris marked its 100th anniversary with a series of events that underscored the tensions surrounding its legacy. The celebrations included a ceremonial reopening of the mosque's historic prayer hall, a lecture on the contributions of Muslim soldiers in World War I, and a concert featuring classical Arabic and Andalusian music. French President Emmanuel Macron attended the main ceremony, where he praised the mosque as a "symbol of France's commitment to diversity and inclusion." Yet the event was not without controversy. Protesters gathered outside the mosque, holding signs that read "Laïcité is not Islamophobia" and "No to state surveillance of mosques." The protests were a reminder that for many in France, the Grand Mosque's centenary is not a cause for celebration but a moment of reflection on the country's treatment of its Muslim citizens.

The mosque's rector, Chems-Eddine Hafiz, used the occasion to call for greater religious freedom in France. "This mosque was built to honor the sacrifices of Muslim soldiers, but today it stands as a symbol of the challenges faced by Muslims in France," Hafiz told Al Jazeera. "We ask for the same rights as other citizens, to practice our faith freely, to wear our headscarves without fear, and to live without constant suspicion." The rector's remarks echoed the sentiments of many in France's Muslim community, who feel that the country's secularism has become a tool for exclusion rather than inclusion. The centennial, then, was not just a celebration of the past; it was a demand for a different future.

The French government's response was characteristically cautious. Macron, in his speech, reiterated France's commitment to *laïcité* but also acknowledged the "legitimate aspirations" of France's Muslim communities. "France is a country of laws, and those laws must apply to everyone," Macron said. "But we must also recognize that our diversity is our strength." The president's words were carefully calibrated to avoid alienating either the far-right, which has pushed for stricter secularism laws, or the Muslim community, which has grown increasingly vocal about its rights. Yet the tension between the two was palpable, and the centennial celebrations served as a microcosm of France's broader struggles.

Global and regional reaction: Leaders weigh in on France's identity crisis

The Grand Mosque's centenary drew reactions from around the world, reflecting the mosque's global significance. In Morocco, King Mohammed VI sent a delegation to the celebrations, underscoring the historical ties between France and its former protectorate. In Algeria, President Abdelmadjid Tebboune praised the mosque as a "symbol of Franco-Algerian friendship," though he also criticized France's treatment of its Muslim minority. "France must do more to integrate its Muslim citizens," Tebboune said in a statement. "The mosque is a reminder of the sacrifices made by Algerian soldiers, but it should also be a reminder of the work that remains to be done."

In Turkey, President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan seized on the occasion to criticize France's secularism policies, framing them as an attack on Islam. "France's obsession with *laïcité* has become a tool for marginalizing Muslims," Erdoğan said in a speech. "The Grand Mosque's centenary is a reminder that secularism cannot be used as a weapon against religion." Erdoğan's remarks were echoed by leaders in Pakistan and Bangladesh, where governments have also faced criticism for their treatment of religious minorities. In India, the Hindu nationalist government of Narendra Modi has drawn parallels between France's secularism debates and its own policies toward Muslims, though New Delhi has largely avoided direct criticism of Macron's government.

The European Union, meanwhile, treaded carefully. European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen praised the Grand Mosque as a "symbol of France's multicultural heritage" but also emphasized the need for "strict adherence to secular principles." The EU's response reflected the bloc's own struggles with Islamophobia and the rise of far-right parties across the continent. In the United States, the Biden administration issued a statement calling for "greater understanding and tolerance" between France and its Muslim communities, though it avoided taking a strong stance on the country's secularism policies. The global reaction to the Grand Mosque's centenary was a reminder that the mosque's legacy is not just a French story; it's a European one, and one that resonates deeply in South Asia.

South Asia impact: A mirror held up to India, Pakistan, and Bangladesh

For South Asia, the Grand Mosque's centenary is more than a historical milestone; it's a mirror held up to the region's own struggles with religious identity and political power. In India, the parallels are impossible to ignore. The country's 200 million Muslims, the world's third-largest Muslim population, have faced increasing marginalization under Prime Minister Narendra Modi's Hindu nationalist government. The 2019 Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA), which fast-tracks citizenship for non-Muslim migrants from neighboring countries, was widely seen as a move to exclude Muslims from the national narrative. The 2024 inauguration of the Ram Mandir in Ayodhya, built on the site of a demolished mosque, further entrenched the idea that India's secularism is under threat. The Grand Mosque's story, a monument built to honor Muslim soldiers, now a symbol of exclusion, is a cautionary tale for India's Muslims, who wonder if their place in the nation is similarly contingent on their utility to the state.

In Pakistan, the Grand Mosque's centenary has been met with a mix of pride and skepticism. The country's founder, Muhammad Ali Jinnah, envisioned Pakistan as a homeland for Muslims that would guarantee religious freedom for all. Yet Pakistan's history is marred by sectarian violence, blasphemy laws, and the persecution of religious minorities. The 2017 Tehreek-e-Labbaik Pakistan (TLP) protests, which brought the country to a standstill over a perceived insult to the Prophet Muhammad, showed how easily religious sentiment can be mobilized for political ends. The Grand Mosque's story, a monument built to honor Muslim soldiers, now a symbol of exclusion, resonates with Pakistanis who question whether their country's Islamic identity has become a tool for oppression rather than liberation. The real question for Islamabad is whether the mosque's centenary will serve as a reminder of the ideals that once inspired Pakistan's creation or a warning of the dangers of mixing religion and politics.

In Bangladesh, the Grand Mosque's centenary has sparked debates about the country's own secular foundations. Bangladesh was born in 1971 as a secular state, but the rise of Islamist parties like Hefazat-e-Islam has forced the government to balance secularism with religious sensitivities. The 2021 violence against Hindu minorities during Durga Puja, which left dozens dead and hundreds injured, was a stark reminder of the fragility of Bangladesh's secular fabric. The Grand Mosque's story, a monument built to honor Muslim soldiers, now a symbol of exclusion, is a reminder that secularism is not just a legal principle but a lived reality. For Bangladeshis, the mosque's centenary is a call to action: to defend the secular principles that once defined their nation, before it's too late.

The Grand Mosque's impact on South Asia is not just symbolic; it's practical. France is home to the largest Muslim community in Europe, and its policies on secularism and Islam have ripple effects across the continent and beyond. For South Asian Muslims, France's struggles are a reminder that the fight for religious freedom is not confined to their own borders. It's a global fight, and one that demands solidarity. The mosque's centenary is a moment to reflect on what it means to be Muslim in a secular state, and what it means to be secular in a world where religion is increasingly politicized.

What happens next: The mosque's future and the future of French secularism

The Grand Mosque's centenary has put France's secularism model under the microscope, and the question now is whether the country can reconcile its commitment to *laïcité* with the realities of its diverse society. Analysts expect the debate to intensify in the lead-up to France's 2027 presidential election, where far-right leader Marine Le Pen is expected to make secularism a central issue. Le Pen's National Rally party has long advocated for stricter secularism laws, including bans on headscarves in public spaces and greater surveillance of mosques. Her rhetoric has resonated with a significant portion of the French electorate, and the Grand Mosque's centenary has only amplified the stakes.

A key question is whether Macron's government will double down on its current approach, balancing secularism with limited accommodations for religious minorities, or whether it will embrace more restrictive policies in an attempt to placate the far-right. The president's recent appointment of a new interior minister, Gérald Darmanin, a hardline secularist, suggests the latter may be more likely. Darmanin has already taken steps to tighten controls on mosques, including the dissolution of several organizations accused of promoting radical Islam. But analysts warn that such policies risk alienating France's Muslim community further, pushing some toward extremism rather than integration.

In South Asia, the mosque's story is a warning. The region's own struggles with secularism and religious identity suggest that when governments attempt to control or instrumentalize religion, the results are rarely predictable. The Grand Mosque's centenary is a reminder that the fight for religious freedom is not just a European issue; it's a global one. For South Asian readers, the question is not just what happens next in France, but what happens next in their own countries. Will they learn from France's struggles, or repeat its mistakes?

Key Takeaways

• The Grand Mosque of Paris, built to honor Muslim soldiers in World War I, has become a symbol of France's struggle to reconcile secularism with its Muslim minority, mirroring debates in South Asia over religious identity and citizenship.
• France's current approach to secularism, marked by surveillance of mosques and restrictions on religious expression, risks deepening divisions with its Muslim community, a dynamic that resonates in India, Pakistan, and Bangladesh.
• The mosque's centenary serves as a cautionary tale for South Asia, where governments' attempts to instrumentalize religion for political ends have often led to instability and violence.