** The National Assembly: Between indignation and instrumentalization, the clash of symbols around Gaza **
It was one of those days when the air of the National Assembly seemed more electricity than usual. In the great circus of debates, where we compete with words as sharp as blades, the deputies of rebellious France (LFI) chose to go up to the niche with posters. But not just any posters, those showing faces of Palestinian children, imbued with innocence, engraved in a tragedy that is played thousands of kilometers from Paris. The shock had the effect of a castanetto on the orchestra. Ouchs of the National Rally (RN) and the Republicans (LR), Cris, disapproving gestures. The scene had something theatrical, purely political, exquisitely desperate.
It’s Aymeric Caron, a voice of LFI’s indignation, who dropped the shock sentence: “International law, France is buried it in Gaza, and it is a shame for our country. His words resonate like a bell above political rituals, hammering a truth that many prefer to ignore. Far from being a simple debate on Gaza, this moment highlights a crucial question: what is France really ready to say or to face humanitarian dramas which it claims to be the guarantor of values?
Julien Odoul, of the RN, described this staging as “ignoble”, arguing that this could only divide an already divided assembly. Beyond the personal attack, his words reveal a striking contradiction: when the pain of a people is used as a political instrument, which really looks at this pain in front? Who assesses the ignoble and unworthy in this war of words? Is this the fact of brandishing the faces of children in distress or the denial of their existence at the heart of a legislative debate?
The tension in the hemicycle seems as revealing of the political fracture as of the state of the world. On the one hand, deputies who are intended to be the guardians of human rights, on the other, a right which stands as a defender of an image of France, sometimes more concerned with a political line than of humanity itself. Why this polarization? Why do so many people choose to look away, when others fight to make the voice of those who do not have it?
And this question of symbols, what is it hiding? Because, in the end, it is not only the faces of children who appear on these posters, but also the failures of a foreign policy that many countries, including France, seem to flee. The gaze on Gaza, a mirror of unspoken, breaches and responsibilities, pushes us to reflect on what we are ready to accept as a nation.
Historically, France has often put on the habit of the Savior, the liberator. We remember the major statements on human rights, the revolutions from 1789 to the present day. But when this time of intentionality comes up against the raw reality of contemporary conflicts, what remains? A tireless rhetoric or a call for sincere action? Each brand of indignation deserves to be evaluated, but demagoguery and spectacle can also easily denude the real suffering of its essence.
What we see in this scene in the Assembly is a reflection of geopolitical complexity, a reminder that each decision, each silence, each tears flowing to the other end of the world, concerns us all. Should France be content to applaud humanist statements while taking refuge behind politicized debates? The question of international law, of our role as bridges or wall destructive builders, is asked with new acuity.
So, yes, the gesture of LFI deputies has created waves and cries in a place where ideas must confront. But perhaps in the middle of this storm, it would be good to remain attentive, to listen to those who really suffer, whatever our position. Politics should not be a vile show, but a space of courage, empathy and, above all, humanity.