As the opening ceremony of the long-awaited Paris Olympics has drawn ever closer, tension has built in France. This is not just excited anticipation, but is against a background of political and social instability, now inextricably intertwined with the one thing France has long celebrated for its power to unify: sport.

Preparations for the Paris Olympics have not always run smoothly. Those who have dared to foray into French Instagram reels in post-exam depression might have caught sight of the #JeChieDansLaSeineLe23Juin movement. This thread highlights Parisians’ somewhat unusual protest against the €1.4 billion plans to clear the Seine for swimming, which involves defecating in its waters. However, this tension runs deeper than mere Parisian frustration at having to deal with yet more tourists this summer. It cuts to the very heart of the concepts of freedom of speech, expression, and religion within the Republic.

“The strict measures to enforce ‘neutrality’ undertaken by the government only cement their belief in the role of sport in social cohesion”

An obvious point of contention arose late last year when Minister of Sport Amélie Oudéa-Castéra announced that (unlike athletes from every other team) French athletes would not be able to wear the hijab while they compete or walk around the Olympic village. This is attributed to the traditional French principle of “Laïcité”. This concept, though hard to translate, is most often rendered in English as “secularism”. However, it is better thought of as the absolute separation of the state and all religion – it is a law that also bans the wearing of all ostentatious religious symbols (such as the hijab) in schools. This was a decision condemned by the UN Human Rights Agency and further outrage was caused when the golden cross of the Hôtel des Invalides was left off an official cartoon map of Paris for the Olympic Games.

However, this is not the first time that such conflicts have intruded into French sports. The French Football Federation (unlike parallel organisations in other countries, such as the Premier League) upholds its rights not to allow games to be paused momentarily to allow players to break their fast during Ramadan. During the most recent Ramadan, which coincided with an international break, mealtimes at the French training camp were not allowed to be moved for fasting players. French defender Lucas Digne spoke out, commenting on an Instagram story: “We can stop a match for 20 minutes for decisions but not for 1 minute to drink water.” Such measures have led to a host of French talent moving elsewhere, including star basketball player Diaba Konaté, who has since moved to the US.

Sport has become a powerful medium through which to see the pervasive influence of “Laïcité” on French life. The strict measures to enforce “neutrality” undertaken by the government only cement their belief in the role of sport in social cohesion. The irony is, of course, that all attempts to eliminate the influence of religion on sport have only drawn more attention to it, with divisive consequences.

While “Laïcité” is a core principle of the French Republic, its use (and, indeed, misuse) is often said to be championed by the other French spectacle currently making headlines: Marine le Pen and her burgeoning far-right following. Despite only coming third in the second round of Macron’s snap election (much to the surprise of polls projecting a far-right win), the influence of the Rassemblement National is now undeniable. Here commenced an unprecedented level of political engagement from the rich and famous, particularly in the realm of sport.

“It remains to be seen if, as the rest of the world unites in the joy of the Games in the City of Love, its host can forgo these moments of division and watch as one nation”

As the Euros gripped the nation (or, perhaps, bored a nation whose goal total of four left much to be desired), players were regularly asked about their views on the upcoming election. Reporters seemed delighted to hand these usually neutral players, (forcedly-neutral in regards to religion) a huge platform with the potential power to engage and sway voters. Kylian Mbappé talked of the “urgent” need for young people to step up and vote against “extremes”. During one memorable exchange, a reporter directed Mbappé’s attention to him saying, “I’m over here, to the far far-left,” to which Mbappé promptly quipped “Ah well, I’m glad you weren’t on the other side,” to a chorus of laughter. Meanwhile, Ibrahima Konaté, when interrogated about his Malian dual nationality, talked of his parents who migrated to the country and “gave their health to France” as they toiled in difficult but crucial jobs. The concept of dual nationality was placed under threat by Le Pen’s party with a policy of “national preference” barring dual nationals from accessing certain jobs. By contrast, John Stones of England described the England camp as a “politics-free zone” despite the historic general election earlier this month.

The French football team is not one that is unused to weighing in on social issues. At least nineteen of the twenty-five members of this year’s squad at the Euros have some African heritage. The 1998 “rainbow team” managed to produce a powerful symbol of national unity in winning the first French World Cup. This was in the face of significant discrimination with Jean Marie le Pen (Marine le Pen’s father) declaring the team “un-French”. Despite this, Christian Karembeau went so far as to say “there is no minority anymore and we know that we are cosmopolitan and we feel integrated.” There were hopes that the 2018 World Cup win would produce a similar effect, especially with the now standard presence of the Rassemblement National in the second “run-off” round of elections. Such hopes did not materialise.

Although the RN have not won and Le Pen’s 28 year-old protegé, Jordan Bardella, will not become prime minister, they have nearly doubled their number of seats in the Assemblée Nationale. The RN now hold 143 seats, and with no party winning a majority they are now vying for control not only with Macron but also with the Nouveau Front Populaire, the overall ‘winner’ of this snap election with 180 seats (if such a dire state can be said to have a victor). Meanwhile, right-wing anger has surged with the “alliance of dishonour” between Macron’s party and the NFP, which led to many local third-place candidates being removed to avoid splitting the vote. This tactic has been blamed in right-wing circles for the RN’s unexpected loss. Parliament threatens to be paralysed by this polarisation, and while most of the demonstrations held after the results of the second round were peaceful, concerns abounded. Many Parisian shopkeepers chose to board up their windows in anticipation of riots and 30,000 extra police officers were sent to patrol the streets, confirming the government’s acknowledgement of this political powder-keg. And of course, all this threatens the delicate and already-fraught final preparations for the Games.

In its attempts to unify, sport has instead created and highlighted fractures in French political and civil society. It remains to be seen if, as the rest of the world unites in the joy of the Games in the City of Love, its host can forgo these moments of division and watch as one nation.