Like everyone else, my husband and I watched in horror as the news about the coordinated terrorist attacks in Paris unfurled. It’s the worst attack on the French since World War II. So…this is sort of…their 9/11.
I’ve observed the mass immigration of Middle Eastern and North African refugees, as well as the resistance by some to assimilate into the country’s culture. Nobody seemed to be that concerned about it…until now.
I don’t have enough information to make any sort of comprehensive commentary, but from my vantage point, it looks kind of like this:
I have a house in a safe place, and I have a little extra room. So when a person fleeing for their lives and needs shelter, I open my home to them. But instead of respecting our family’s traditions and routines, they impose their own. They want dinner for breakfast. They demand we decorate their rooms to their specifications. We refuse, because it’s unreasonable. But instead of leaving our home, they poison one of our kids because they detest Meatloaf Thursdays.
Simplistic? Well…yes. But honestly, that’s how it looks to me. People who live in a country who opened their borders to them, to only be spit on by people who abetted outside forces to wreak terror on the very people who saved them.
Of course, this is a small fraction of discontents, but that’s the key to terrorism–you don’t need an army–just a few people and a plan.
French culture is so rich. The culture deserves to be preserved.
Do I have it wrong?