The pursuit of religious neutrality in France has created serious contradictions.
In France, the public school is a sanctuary of secularism. Under the principle of laïcité, students must be free from religious influence while at school. This means that religion must be kept private.
It is in the name of secularism that the French government made the controversial decision in 2023 to ban the abaya, a dress-like garment worn by some Muslim women, in public schools. Gabriel Attal, the Minister of French Education and Youth at the time, justified the decision by saying, “You enter a classroom; you must not be able to identify the students’ religion by looking at them.”
The contradiction with laïcité is that despite the original intention to protect individuals from religious coercion, it has ultimately led to strict laws on religious expression over the past two decades. In March 2004, the French National Assembly passed a law preventing students from wearing clothing that signals religious affiliation, banning kippahs, large crosses, and headscarves in public schools.
Juliette Galonnier, a scholar at Sciences Po, told me that in France, people hold abstract universalism as a higher ideal than in the US. So, most people (across the political spectrum) view French secularism positively. Some on the left, however, have criticized the 2004 law, citing concerns about Islamophobia.
It is true that laïcité has increasingly come to police the religious expression of Muslim women in France. This may be because Islamic religious clothing is considered more visible. It also may be that due to a growing Muslim population, many people have become concerned about Islamic extremism and the perceived threat it poses. As of 2016, France’s Muslim population was around 5.72 million, the largest in Europe. They now represent about 13% of the population. The growth of this demographic, in addition to the 2015 Islamist terror attacks in Paris, have contributed to paranoia about Islam’s visibility. Many believe that the 2004 law was clearly designed to address the Islamic veil.
An example of how laïcité has affected Muslims was the controversial “burkini bans” enforced in a number of French municipalities in 2016, although the constitutional council ultimately rejected the ban. The burkini is a full-body swimsuit designed to help Muslim women adhere to modesty norms while relaxing at the beach.
To an American, it seems absurd that local governments would try to force Muslim women to wear less clothing at the beach in order to protect secular principles. Recently, laïcité also became a hot topic in sports, as the government prohibited French athletes from wearing the hijab at the 2024 Paris Olympics.
French secularism, as a principle, is generally a good thing. The problem is that the French government is overstepping the pursuit of neutrality and instead taking an approach that is far too interventionist. Teachers are required to send students home for wearing clothes they deem to be too religious. One teacher was suspended simply for reading Bible passages to his students. Beyond schools, laïcité has contributed to a culture where speaking about religion is considered taboo. Laïcité, which was established through the 1905 Law on the Separation of Church and State, was never intended to suppress religious expression.
The kind of secularism we see in France today has its roots in a past where Roman Catholicism was the official religion. To French Revolutionaries, the Catholic Church represented an existential threat to liberty.
It was after over a century of shifting between revolution, empire, monarchy, and democracy that the 1905 law was enacted. While republicans argued for limiting the Church’s influence, Catholic conservatives viewed it as integral to social order. Behind the law, therefore, was a desire to curtail the Catholic Church’s power in society. It was, in its original form, a liberal project. It was one which aimed to diminish the influence of the Church and protect the right to live free from religious dominance.
Thomas Paine was one of the Revolution’s prominent supporters, advocating a secular state because he believed that the foundations of a strong government should rest on reason rather than religion. He did not necessarily see religion as the enemy. It is ironic, therefore, that speaking of religion in French public life has become taboo and is now often seen as threatening.
France’s Muslim population is not the only group that has felt the contradictions of laïcité. I spoke with students at the Institut Biblique de Nogent, a theological school for evangelical Christians. One student claimed that although people at work often talk about politics, it is extremely taboo to speak of God. Another told me that people tend to think badly of evangelicals, as they have been associated with leaders like Bolsonaro in Brazil and Trump in the US. In France, evangelicals represent less than 3% of the population. “While the left thinks laïcité only affects Muslims, it affects many religious groups,” a student said.
Jehovah’s Witnesses, another minority religious group in France, has waged a number of legal battles against discrimination. The group claims to have dealt with refusals to issue building permits or rent halls for worship.
Laïcité law disproportionately affects France’s minority religious groups. Some have used the term “Catho-laïcité” to describe how Catholicism is privileged in France’s secular framework, perhaps because it has always played a large role in the country’s identity. Prominent Catholic churches are designated as national monuments, and many of France’s national holidays come from the Catholic Church’s calendar. Although supporters of various bans have argued that they are necessary for the project to defend neutrality, the current application of laïcité and its impact on minority religions departs from the classical liberal principles that underlie the idea of a free secular state.
The cause of promoting religious neutrality, on its own, is a worthy one. The nationwide endeavor to resist communitarianism, on its own, is also not necessarily problematic. However, shutting down Islamist associations and suspending mosques in the name of religious neutrality is questionable. The purpose of secularism should be to protect individuals from being coerced into religion, not to protect a country from terrorism or to advance gender equality (this is another justification used by proponents of bans on Islamic clothing).
Religion and liberty can reinforce one another. This is what Alexis de Tocqueville argued in Democracy in America, noting that in the American model, religious pluralism did not threaten national cohesion. The suppression of religion in public life ultimately breeds division, making it more difficult to uphold the principles of a free society.
France presents a unique example of secularism, and with it, unique contradictions. Given the country’s history, it seems unlikely that the French will abandon their commitment to keep religion strictly separate from public life. But it’s at least worth questioning whether or not laïcité, in its current form, is allowing France to remain true to its republican ideals.
Lauren Kim is the Summer 2025 Editorial Intern at the Foundation for Economic Education. She is going into her senior year at Yale University, where she is pursuing a B.A. in Ethics, Politics, and Economics.
Like in the USA, the best tradeoff is school choice. Get the State out of education.