Death in front of the School

On the afternoon of Friday, September 16, a 47-year-old teacher, Samuel Paty, was gruesomely murdered near the secondary school in a Paris suburb where he taught history and geography. He was beheaded with a kitchen knife by Abdullakh Anzorov, an 18-year-old Chechen born in Russia who had lived in France since the age of six. According to the killer’s posts on social media, the motive for the murder was the teacher’s lesson on freedom of speech, during which he had shown students caricatures of the Prophet Muhammad.

France is in shock. Although this was far from an isolated incident in a country that has suffered numerous terrorist attacks in recent years—resulting in more than 200 deaths—the public has perhaps never been more deeply shaken than by this murder of a teacher. France is horrified not only by the brutality of the crime and the loss of life but also because this was an attack on an institution. The Éducation nationale, which raises generations of youth in the values of the Republic, is one of the most important pillars of French statehood.

Immediately after the attack, many voices demanded stronger, swifter, and more effective measures against the growing threat of Islamist extremism in France. And in my opinion, they are absolutely right. There is little need to prove that the spread of militant Islamist ideology represents a grave threat in France. We only need to recall the attacks on the offices of the satirical magazine Charlie Hebdo, the massacre at the Bataclan concert hall in Paris, the truck attack on the promenade in Nice, and the shootings at a Jewish grocery store in Paris and a Jewish elementary school in Toulouse. Even Strasbourg, where I live, was struck less than two years ago when a gunman killed five people at the city’s Christmas market.

The fight against terrorism must include repressive measures, intelligence and police work, criminal prosecution, and, when necessary, the use of force. But in doing so, there is no need or justification for stepping outside the legal and human rights frameworks set by national and international standards. The European Convention on Human Rights allows for robust and effective responses to terrorism. When political freedoms, human rights, or democratic standards are portrayed as obstacles to effectively addressing terrorist, criminal, health, or other threats, it is often an attempt to cover up incompetence or questionable political maneuvering—or both.

Some voices in the French public, while equally horrified by the bloody crime, argue that repression alone won’t defeat the threat of Islamist extremism. And they too are absolutely right. Extremism cannot be overcome without addressing why ideological violence appeals to some young people in the French suburbs. What draws them into a vortex of blindness, indoctrination, and hatred? If we don’t understand the why, we won’t know how to respond.

In public debate, these two approaches are often seen as oppositional—competing or even conflicting strategies. Some refuse to consider why someone would choose violence; others believe the problem can be solved without increased security and repression. In reality, both approaches are necessary. A purely repressive strategy is doomed to fail. But it is equally naive—and dangerous—to think terrorism can be overcome solely by empathizing with human suffering. When Abdullakh Anzorov grabbed that kitchen knife on Friday, no kind word or offer to listen to his grievances could have stopped him.

The French government is now rightly channeling all its efforts into investigating and preventing similar acts. This includes targeting individuals showing signs of radicalization or spreading radical ideologies and inciting violence—especially on social media, but also in certain prayer rooms and mosques. These actions enjoy broad public support, but some ask why they weren’t taken earlier. After the Charlie Hebdo attacks and the Bataclan massacre, there were already many criticisms of how security services handled known suspects who had long been on the radar of intelligence agencies.

Now, in the wake of Paty’s murder, political leaders face intense public pressure, and every day brings forceful speeches and announcements: closures of prayer rooms, disbanding of associations and sports clubs, and more. The risk is that, in the rush to make up for past failures and avoid further criticism, the net may be cast too wide, impacting people who have nothing to do with extremism. This reinforces a sense among some communities that the state is stigmatizing and blaming them for crimes of which they, too, are victims.

Interior Minister Gérald Darmanin recently criticized the sale of "communitarian" food products—meaning halal and kosher—in French supermarkets. “Communitarianism” in France refers to prioritizing group identity over national unity. His statement sparked public backlash and ridicule: one Green Party MP with Italian roots tweeted a photo of shelves full of Barilla pasta, joking that he too couldn’t resist communitarian cuisine.

On the international front, Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan chimed in by questioning the mental health of his French counterpart—a remark that certainly does not contribute to a calm and reasoned debate.

The fact remains: Islamist extremism threatens all French citizens, including Muslims. Muslim communities are natural and essential allies in the fight against extremism. Yet many feel that, in the state’s response to terrorism, shortcuts and generalizations are being made. After the recent knife attack near the former offices of Charlie Hebdo, media outlets initially reported two suspects, largely because among the bloodied victims who had chased the attacker was a man who looked North African.

A poll published last year revealed that 42% of Muslims living in France had experienced discrimination—most commonly in encounters with police or while seeking jobs or housing. Many people of former colonial descent live in so-called sensitive urban zones, identified in bureaucratic language by a 1996 law as “densely populated areas with degraded housing and high imbalance between population and employment opportunities.”

Of course, none of this justifies hatred and violence. But it is a fact that a portion of the young generation in France is turning against the country. A few among them choose the most perverse, violent, and bloody—and above all false—interpretation of Islam, one that has nothing to do with the Qur’an. The internal conflict between a religion of hatred and the teachings of the Prophet hardly troubles them, because the decision to embrace extremism is, in most cases, not religiously motivated.

The psychological blueprint of recruitment is similar to that used by street gangs in the U.S. To the extremist, it feels like rebellion against a society that shows them no respect, no opportunity, no acceptance. The suburbs of France are reservoirs of frustration and rage, which make the work of Islamist preachers all the easier. In Strasbourg just weeks ago, a girl was beaten for wearing a skirt deemed “too short.”

This is a rising tide of hatred and violence that must be stopped—with all the power and tools available to the state to protect its citizens. But the methods used must be grounded in the very values that Samuel Paty taught in his classroom—and for which he gave his life.

Liberty, equality, fraternity: the Enlightenment ideals inscribed in the French constitution since 1848. These are the very values that Islamist extremists fight against. And in the long term, upholding these values for all citizens, not just some, will prove more effective than repression. These are the values that can unite the nation against hatred and help defeat those who feed on it.