French prisons again singled out as breeding grounds for extremism

Karim Mokhtari, a French-born civil rights activist, was 18 when he was sent to jail in the city of Amiens, south of Paris, in 1996. Fellow inmates, who described themselves as Salafists — adherents of an austere version of Islam shared by many in extremist movements — quickly approached him. He admired their inner strength and resilience, and under their guidance, Mokhtari converted to Islam.

Before the group’s spiritual leader was transferred to another institution, he urged Mokhtari to “fight for Islam” upon his release, as Mokhtari recalled. This, he was told, would involve traveling to Afghanistan and Pakistan for military training.

“I had had enough of violence, and he was proposing more violence,” said Mokhtari. “I was able to say no, unlike many others.”

Mokhtari’s story is the kind of account that sends a chill down many French spines. The notion that French citizens are being fanaticized on French soil is now widely accepted — the men involved in the recent Charlie Hebdo massacre and hostage-takings were all French nationals — and feared.

Being Muslim in France is not always easy. The recent Paris attacks have led to Islamophobic incidents. Mosques have been desecrated with graffiti, and at least one, in the Alpine town of Aix-les-Bains, was partially destroyed by fire. Investigators have yet to determine if it was arson.

Being Muslim in a French prison or jail is worse. Like other depressed, sometimes suicidal, inmates, it is not unusual for Muslim prisoners to seek help in religion. Researcher Céline Béraud recently interviewed 200 prisoners and 50 chaplains in eight prisons to understand how religion plays out behind bars. The University of Caen sociologist found that religion typically allowed prisoners to regain not only a sense of self-worth, but also the esteem of others.

“But it’s not because people turn to religion that they become a danger for society,” Béraud cautioned in an interview.

A turn to religion may be common among prisoners of all faiths, but a certain hostility to Islam in the wider society may intensify some Muslim prisoners attachment to their faith, according to Foudil Benabadji, a long-time jail chaplain who founded the mosque in Aix-les-Bains.

Benabadji has argued in his books and public lectures that faith becomes a “fortress” for these prisoners, which leaves them more open to extremist interpretations.

When reached by phone recently, Benabadji was standing outside the fire-damaged mosque he founded in Aix-les-Bains. The Algerian-born Benabadji recently turned 75, the age limit for chaplains in France, so he will soon have to stop his jail visits. 

Benabadji was incensed by the fire, adamant that it was arson. Mention of the hundreds of young French fighters returning from Syria turned his anger to outrage.

“It makes me furious,” he roared.

The Muslim community itself should do more to prevent this, he added.

“Imams should talk about French secularism in mosques. What is secularism? It’s the respect of religion, of all religions, something we didn’t have in the countries where we come from.”

He disputed the notion that prisons churn out extremists. But he admitted that some inmates are “full of prejudice and hatred.” He explained that as a chaplain his first task was to resolve their practical problems, the bane of day-to-day life in prison. Only then could he hope to tackle spiritual issues.

What is widely acknowledged, however, is that France's Muslim communities are over-represented in French jails — for reasons that should not come as a surprise. The unemployment rate in many suburbs where working-class people and immigrants typically live is around 25 percent, more than twice the national figure of 10 percent. And the justice system may target French minorities or foreign nationals. In 2009, an Amnesty International report showed that these two groups accounted for “the vast majority” of complaints concerning police abuse.

Larrivé’s report stirred even more controversy for stating that “several hundred” inmates were at risk of being radicalized. “French jails have become a place, not the only one, but an important one nonetheless, of Islamist radicalization and recruitment of individuals likely to turn to terrorist violence,” he wrote.

The issue is politically charged because his party, the UMP, and others further to the right of the political spectrum, especially Marine Le Pen’s National Front, have charged that the Socialist government isn’t doing enough to overcome this threat.

About 150 inmates have been charged or convicted on terror charges, and fewer than half of them are engaged in proselytizing, according to the Justice Ministry.

To tackle the problem, the prison administration has for years been asking staff to identify those deemed “potentially dangerous.” Chaplains are also expected to alert the authorities about suspicious cases.

Samia El-Alaoui Talibi, a chaplain who has been visiting women’s jails in northern France since 1995, takes a dim view of those who believe she is a spy.

“The only freedom inmates have is their freedom of thought,” explained the Moroccan-born mathematician and mother of seven. “We discuss values with them openly. We are not a thought police. That wouldn’t do.”

In recent years, the prison administration has sent some of those identified as promoting radical ideas to solitary confinement or transferred them to other institutions, dispersing them throughout the jail system.

The new approach is to group them at Fresnes prison, the second largest in France, south of Paris, under a scheme launched only last November. Twenty-two “preachers” are now in Fresnes, according to Pierre Rancé, Justice Ministry spokesman.

“They are no longer creating a climate of religious tension in other jails,” he said. “The other inmates can now go back to putting up pictures of fancy cars on their cell walls.”