Note: This is a very early draft. Please do not circulate or quote without author’s permission. Any comments or questions are appreciated at [email protected].

TRAINING FOR DEMOCRACY: LOCAL DEMOCRATIC DELIBERATION IN PARIS

Yuna Blajer de la Garza

One of the goals of democratic theory is to understand what makes a democracy democratic—or, otherwise put, where lies the democratic spine, the democratic essence of democracy. While structuralist scholars have opted for a minimalist description of a democracy characterized by “free and fair elections,” scholars of democratic deliberation have emphasized the role of open discussion among equals: by confronting different arguments for a policy or law, citizens interacting as equal members of a political community can reach decisions perceived by all as legitimate. Accordingly, the democratic-ness of a regime is sustained through the process of deliberation. But where exactly does that process take place? Where can democratic deliberation be seen and cultivated at its best? Given the challenge posed by the sheer number of individuals who compose a political community, the deliberation that interests these theorists is usually understood to take place in representative spaces (such as Congress), appropriately considered the deliberative bodies of a democratic government. Indeed, scholars have argued that it is precisely in legislative spaces where laws and policies are debated by elected representatives that deliberation can be seen at its prime. In those spaces, laws that will govern all those who inhabit the political community are decided. Perhaps because of that, Joshua Cohen has cautioned that “local, sectional, or issue-specific lines are unlikely to produce the open-ended deliberation required to institutionalize a deliberative procedure.”1

1 Joshua Cohen, “Deliberation and Democratic Legitimacy,” in Deliberative Democracy : Essays on Reason and Politics 85.

1 Contrarily to that cautionary word, in this paper I explore neighborhood meetings as an alternative and seemingly unremarkable site for democratic deliberation. At first blush, neighborhood meetings in a consolidated democracy might not seem particularly significant from the perspective of democratic theory: for starters, they occupy citizens in “local, sectional, [and] issue-specific lines.” Moreover, unlike the Qāt chews studied by Lisa Wedeen, they are not flourishing amid the inhospitable grounds of an authoritarian regime.2 And yet, I argue that not only are neighborhood meetings critical for developing democratic mores (much to the liking of Tocqueville), but, more significantly, that it might be easier to approach the ideals of deliberative democracy in low-key, local contexts where not much seems to be at stake, than in the high-stakes context of national legislative bodies. As such, this paper can be read as an apology of the virtues of ordinariness. First, low-stakes discussions are not prone to being captured by vexing party politics, making it possible for one person to vote with one group on one topic and another group on another. Low-stakes discussions allow individuals to have an “open- mind” with regards to the outcome of the decision (at least more open than in national legislative bodies). Second, the simplicity of the topics discussed makes them accessible to everyone regardless of social capital and education. While not everyone might feel informed enough to provide their opinion on, say, a convoluted reform to the tax code and its implications, everyone can easily have an opinion on the flowerpots of their neighborhood. Namely, the basis for equal standing in the discussion are easily guaranteed. Conversely, at higher national levels where the stakes are high, deliberations are easily captured by party politics and the perverse incentives that jeopardize the openness that supposedly characterizes genuine democratic deliberation.3 As such, at high levels, there is not much real deliberation and not much willingness to revise positions and reconstitute alliances.4 In neighborhood meetings, on contrary, I show that it is because the issues discussed are mundane, specific, and simple that they are accessible to all and thus make possible a space to cultivate democratic mores.

2 Lisa Wedeen, “The Politics of Deliberation: Qāt chews as Public Sphere in Yemen,” Public Culture 19 (2007): 59-84, and Peripheral Visions: Publics, Power, and Performance in Yemen (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2008). 3 On this point, see Adrian Blau, “Rationality and Deliberative Democracy: A Constructive Critique of John Dryzek's Democratic Theory,” Contemporary Political Theory 10 (2011): 37-57. 4 I discuss this below, but, for a preview, think about how “deliberations” in Congress take place. Although there are often displays of remarkable oratorial abilities, there is not much debate at place: few representatives change their mind after the discussion and vote differently, few vote outside of party lines.

2 Tocqueville referred to mores as “habits of the heart,” which “gradually permeated customs, opinions, and forms.”5 These democratic forms, he stated, are even more important than democratic laws.6 I am skeptical that democratic mores are more important than democratic laws, but I am interested in thinking about how and where can democratic habits and forms be cultivated. Although high-stakes legislative bodies are certainly necessary for the preservation of democratic institutions, mores are best cultivated in low-stakes environments, such as neighborhood meetings. That is not to say that the topics are unremarkable or insignificant for those who attend the meetings; after all, they take the time to attend them and participate in the discussions, suggesting they are consequential to them. But relatively speaking, the stakes are low. Neighborhood meetings, called Conseil de Quartiers, were established in 2002 by the Conseil de Paris –the deliberative body of the city of Paris that brings together its elected representatives—as a tool to enhance local democratic practices, foster solidarity, and engage the citizens of Paris in the decision-making process of their urban spaces. These neighborhood meetings are well attended, and, although the issues discussed seem relatively insignificant—flower pots, dog excrement, and public urination occupy a large proportion of the discussions— the form of these conversations not only illustrates some tenets of democratic deliberation (for instance, attendants take turns, push against the arguments of others, and typically accept the decisions of the majority), but is often explicitly understood by attendants as being the very stuff that constitutes their republican and democratic state: “this is what letting the democratic game unveil!” one attendee exclaimed, seemingly without a hint of irony, after a vote on the hours of operation of a room of the Mairie. By drawing on ethnographic observations about neighborhood meetings that took place in the fall of 2015, I show how such meetings function as sites for the reproduction of a democratic practices that undergird shared imaginaries about the virtues and resilience of a democratic community: the reliability of the bureaucratic state; the significance of deliberative practices; and the basis for claiming equal standing in those deliberative practices. I put these ethnographic reflections in

5 Alexis de Tocqueville, Democracy in America, trans. by Arthur Goldhammer (New York: The Library of America, 2004), 355-356. 6 This discussion is reminiscent of Gabriel Almond and Sidney Verba’s, The Civic Culture: The Political Attitudes and Democracy in Five Nations (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1963). Another way of thinking about this question is going back to Robert Putnam’s formulation: namely, how do democracies work? In Making Democracy Work: Civic Traditions in Modern Italty (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993)

3 conversation both with scholarly work on democratic deliberation and other pieces that have focused on the importance of shared imaginaries and everyday practices for the constitution of political spaces. The paper is structured as follows: I begin with a literature review on democratic deliberation, followed by a discussion of my object of inquiry, and methodological approach. The section that follows is divided in two: I first address the importance of form over content in deliberations in neighborhood meetings, then, I discuss practices of exclusion and policing in those meetings. In the conclusion, I address the lessons gleaned from the continuities and ruptures after the terrorists attacks of November 13th, 2015.

Democratic deliberation, ethnography in political theory, and Conseils de Quartier The virtues of deliberation Although some ideals of democratic deliberation can be traced to Ancient Athens, “deliberative democracy” emerged as an powerful tradition in the discussion of democracies in the last quarter of the 20th century.7 Some scholars of deliberation such as Habermas, Cohen, or Gutmann and Thompson emphasize the importance of providing justifications for decision-making, as well as submitting those justifications to the public scrutiny of equals. Both citizens and their representatives, write Gutmann and Thompson, are “expected to justify the laws they would impose on one another.”8 In order for the deliberation to properly function as a process through which competing arguments are presented, arguments ought to be accessible and understandable.9 In her study of social activists in the United States, Francesca Polleta echoes the importance of this facet of deliberative democracy when she explains that the “point was to make each person's reasoning understandable: the goal was not unanimity so much as discourse.”10

7 See, for example, John Dryzek, Deliberative Democracy and Beyond: Liberals, Critics, Contestations (Oxford-New York: Oxford University Press, 2004); John Rawls, Political Liberalism (New York: Columbia University Press, 1993); Deliberative Democracy, Essays on Reason and Politics, edited by James Bohman and William Rehg (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 1997);) Chantal Mouffe, “Deliberative Democracy or Agonistic Pluralism?” Social Research 66 (1999): 745-58; Iris Marion Young, “Activist Challenges to Deliberative Democracy,” Political Theory 29 (2001): 670-690; Amy Gutmann and Dennis Thompson, Why Deliberative Democracy? (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2004); David Kahane, et al. (eds.) Deliberative Democracy in Practice (Vancouver: UBC Press, 2010); among others. 8 Gutmann and Thompson Why Deliberative Democracy, 3. 9 Which is perhaps by someone like Rawls would emphasize the importance of “public reason” and the mobilization of public and shared elements in argumentation. See Political Liberalism (New York: Columbia University Press, 1993), 213. 10 Francesca Polleta, Freedom is an Endless Meeting (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2002), 2.

4 Besides justification, inclusion on equal terms is also fundamental for deliberation: everyone (relevant) should be included, and they should be included on equal terms.11 The importance of equality is fundamental to the process of democratic deliberation according to Thomas Christiano because it has “an intrinsic worth grounded in the requirements of justice.”12 Namely, for democratic deliberation to be possible, the individuals deliberating must be aware of the basis on which their equal standing is grounded and respect the significance of that basis. In most democratic communities, the basis for equal standing is national citizenship which is precisely why most scholars of democratic deliberation speak of "citizens" when discussing the terms of deliberation. Neighborhood meetings in Paris, however, do not require that all attendees be French citizens (even though they are explicitly presented by the city as the basic level for democracy). Instead, equal standing and the sole requirement for participation is based on the simple fact of living in the neighborhood and thus having a vested interested in how it is managed—in a manner that would probably please Henri Lefebvre,13 location trumps national citizenship as the basis for membership. In the neighborhood meetings I discuss here inclusion is not grounded on citizenship, but on an assumption about the potential for democratic deliberation, reason-giving, and community-building on the basis of shared location. In a way, it is about an older understanding of who the citizen is as someone tied to the city. Because individuals live together, they share a space and have common concerns and interests.14 Finally, some scholars, among which Dryzek figures prominently, have emphasized that an openness of mind is necessary for deliberation.15 Simply put, if nobody is willing to change their minds, there is little that can be achieved through deliberation. Deliberative democracy spotlights the generative dimension of deliberation itself unlike, say, procedural conceptions of democracy that are most interested in the electoral institutions that guarantee the possibilities of voting in free and fair elections16 or majoritarian democratic traditions that focus most of their energy on

11 For the role of inequality despite inclusion in neighborhood meetings see Ramya Parthasarathy, Vijayendra Rao, and Nethra Palaniswamy, “Deliberative Democracy in an Unequal World: A Text-as- Data Study of South India’s Village Assemblies,” American Political Science Review 113 (2019): 623-640. 12 Thomas Christiano, “The Significance of Public Deliberation” in Deliberative Democracy, 243. 13 Henri Lefebvre’s well-known “The Right to the City,” in Writings on Cities, edited by Eleonore Kofman and Elizabeth Lebas (Malden, MA: Blackwell, 1999). 14 On the difference between common interests and conflictive ones see Jane Mansbridge, Beyond Adversary Democracy (Chicago: Chicago University Press, 1983). 15 Dryzek, Deliberative Democracy and Beyond. 16 For instance, Joseph A. Schumpeter, Capitalism, Socialism and Democracy (New York: Routledge, 2003 [1942]); Seymour M. Lipset. Political Man: The Social Basis of Politics (Garden City, New York: Doubleday, 1960); Robert Dahl, Polyarchy: Participation and Opposition (New Haven: Yale University

5 outcomes.17 Deliberation should allow citizens to access a better version of the common good, refined through probing and debate. This is a point that was dear to Mill, who, defending free speech, wrote that silencing an opinion was a “peculiar evil” that “robb[ed] the human race,”18 but that is most evidently tied to Habermas’ theory of moral discourse according to which a political decision is only valid and justifiable if the reasons given for it would be considered reasonable by the relevant affected participants.19 Regardless of the outcome, the process of deliberation itself is beneficial of the outcome, since citizens’ participation helps render the decision more legitimate by stressing the shared role and responsibility of all citizens in the outcome, typically understood to be binding. One last point: deliberative democracy allows for the education of a certain kind of citizens, the preservation of a space in which the “muscles” of democratic citizenship can be exercised and strengthened—the creation of “democratic persons” as per Wedeen’s conceptual framework.20 The deliberative part of “deliberative democracy” implies a certain type of democratic practice that is repeatedly carried out. For Habermas, this is a particularly worthwhile point, which he stresses in his discussion of German historian Rudolf von Thadden who argued that, in light of the increasing flows of immigrants to the countries of Western Europe, the illusion of the possibilities of a creating a community based on blood ties should be laid to rest and give way to “a return to the idea of the citizen as the citoyen, which is at once more open and less rigid than the traditional idea of ethnic belonging.”21 In providing a physical space wherein any Parisian can partake in conversations that pertain to the administration of the community where they live, neighborhood meetings provide a space to hone and practice democratic habits and reproduce

Press, 1972); Arend Lijphart, Democracy in Plural Societies (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1977) and Patterns of Democracy (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1999); Philippe C. Schmitter and Terry Lynn Karl, “What Democracy Is. . . and Is Not,” Journal of Democracy 2 (1991): 75-88; Edward N. Muller and Mitchell A. Seligson, “Civic Culture and Democracy: The Question of Causal Relationships,” American Political Science Review 88, no. 3 (September 1994): 635–52; Adam Przeworski, “Minimalist conception of democracy: a defense,” in Democracy’s Values, ed. by Ian Shapiro and Casiano Hacker-Cordón (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999). 17 For instance, Giovanni Sartori, The Theory of Democracy Revisited (Chatham: Chatham House, 1987); Arendt Lijphart, “Democratic Political Systems: Types, Cases, Causes, and Consequences,” Journal of Theoretical Politics 1 (1989): 33-48; Bingham Powell, Elections As Instruments of Democracy: Majoritarian and Proportional Visions (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2000). 18 J. S. Mill, On Liberty, edited by John Gray (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008), 21. 19 [check citation] 20 Wedeen, “The Politics of Deliberation,” 61. 21 Von Thadden quoted by Jürgen Habermas, “Popular Sovereignty as Procedure,” in Deliberative Democracy : Essays on Reason and Politics, 38.

6 national and republican attachment, not only despite how unsophisticated the topics of discussion are, but precisely because their simplicity makes them accessible to all (and thus, equalizing). The most significant outcome of these meetings is thus not the tangible decision on one matter or the other, but the creation and preservation of a space in which deliberation happens. The space for democratic deliberation created by the neighborhood meetings functions as a site to preserve and reproduce democratic attachments and national narratives, not only in times of peace, but also during times of crisis in which the deliberative practices could continue almost with an inertia of their own, precisely because their content was so innocuous and insignificant.

Neighborhood meetings As hinted at in the introduction, neighborhood meetings in Paris—literally, “neighborhood councils,” although they are not merely consultative organs—are a relatively recent addition to the governmental workings of Paris. They were formally institutionalized in 2002, and the city was divided into 124 neighborhoods, a few of them subsumed under each one of the twenty arrondissements of the city. The website of the city of Paris states that, every year, there are hundreds of meetings that take place in Paris, "creating bonds of solidarity that are essential for life in our city."22 The meetings are public and anyone who lives in the neighborhood—regardless of nationality and age, states the website—is welcome to participate. The basis for participation is thus locality and not national citizenship. The Conseils de Quartier are not merely consultative organs. They have a budget, called a "participative budget" that amounts to 5 percent of the operating budget of the entire city of Paris. This budget is meant to allow Parisians to propose and then vote on projects that affect their neighborhoods: sometimes, those projects are about beautification, such as adding flower pots or renewing lampposts; sometimes, they are about branding: for example, renaming a square and installing a sculpture; other times, they are about security and installing camera or fixing roads. Projects are simply expected to be doable within the budgetary constraints and, over the course of a few meetings, they are voted on by the attendees of the meetings.23 The website of each of the Mairies—the governmental body that manages each administrative arrondissement—has a section devoted to "Citizenly Life" (vie citoyenne). In some of the Mairies the section is called something slightly different: "Democratic

22 Paris.fr, “Toutes les Instances Representatives de la Ville,” https://tinyurl.com/yy7awuw9. 23 See “Budget Participatif,” https://budgetparticipatif.paris.fr.

7 Life" (in the 2nd arrondissement) or "Municipal Life" (in the 8th arrondissement), for instance. "Citizenly life" appears however to be the norm. Under that rubric, one can find some descriptive information about the neighborhood meetings (as well as some meetings bringing together several neighborhoods). Although the section on citizenly life is, itself, easy to locate on the websites, the times and places in which the meetings are held are not often up to date. Some websites have not been updated in years (when I carried out fieldwork, some of the websites had not been updated in two years), some rely on Facebook pages, others at times provide a telephone number and others an email or a listserv. Thus, even though the meetings are indeed open to the public, it is not particularly easy to know when and where will the meetings take place: sometimes they take place in a classroom in a public school and sometimes in a room of the Mairie, but they do not happen on a set schedule (for instance, nowhere was it ever stated that the meetings happened, say, every third Thursday of the month).

Political theory and ethnography In threading together democratic deliberation and contemporary neighborhood meetings this paper combines political theory and ethnographic work. Indeed, I share with other scholars an interest in the studies of the production of national and political attachments through quotidian practices and everyday interactions. Erving Goffman wrote about the importance of theatricality and the non-verbal cues that make it legible during social encounters and interactions:

when the individual presents himself before others, his performance will tend to incorporate and exemplify the officially accredited values of the society (...), To the degree that a performance highlights the common official values of the society in which it occurs, we may look upon it, in the manner of Durkheim and Radcliffe-Brown, as a ceremony--as an expressive rejuvenation and reaffirmation of the moral values of the community.24

Understood that way, the “performance” of individuals, even when it is non-verbal and even if constituted by very small exchanges that would make little sense on their own, can provide an avenue to learn something substantive about the “moral values of the community.” Charles Taylor takes a slightly more macro perspective to speak about how the moral and shared values of a community can be unveiled. Stressing verbal statements, he discusses “social imaginaries” as “the ways people imagine their

24 Goffman, Presentation of Self in Everyday Life, 35.

8 social existence, how they fit together with others, how things go on between them and their fellows, the expectations that are normally met, and the deeper normative notions and images that underlie these expectations.”25 Taken together, verbal and non-verbal cues help trace the profile of the common repertoire of a community, its tensions, anxieties, and hesitations. An engagement with the sites and practices that unveil these attachments was at the core of Lisa Wedeen's study of national and democratic attachments in authoritarian Yemen.26 In a context of weak and unreliable state institutions, national solidarities and attachments flourished through the “ordinary activities undertaken by men and women in pursuit of their daily lives.”27 Ethnographic methods are well suited to explore quotidian practices, understand how abstract or idealized concepts are translated into everyday experience and whether they are appropriated as intended or distorted in the act of translation. In seeking to confront ideal theories with their mundane manifestations, ethnographic methods can shed light on what has been missed in normative theories, what has been overly simplified, what has been assumed which should not have. An ethnographic sensibility can thus “tell us more than we knew to ask.”28 As such, ethnographic tools can be fruitfully paired with political theory, in particular in its normative and critical varieties.29 The observations for this piece are drawn from fieldwork carried out in Paris in fall of 2015, between September and December of that year. Coincidentally, that period happened to include meetings that were held before the terrorist attacks of November 2015 and some meetings that took place afterwards. Meetings would typically last between one and two hours, and attendance to the meetings I witnessed ranged from thirteen to about eighty persons. Although hundreds of meetings are held per year in Paris, meetings from different neighborhoods often happened on the same day (Wednesdays and Thursdays were popular). I thus chose which meetings to attend by trying to vary which arrondissements I visited: while some arrondissements are

25 Taylor, Modern Social Imaginaries, 23 26 See Wedeen, Peripheral Visions, 2008. 27 Ibid., 3. 28 Carole McGranahan, “Ethnography beyond Method: The Importance of an Ethnographic Sensibility.” Sites 15 (2018): 7. 29 See Bernardo Zacka and Matthew Longo, “Political Theory in an Ethnographic Key,” American Political Science Review 113 (2019): 1066-1070; Lisa Herzog and Bernardo Zacka, “Fieldwork in Political Theory: Five Arguments for an Ethnographic Sensibility,” British Journal of Political Science 49, no. 2 (2019): 763–84; see also Lisa Wedeen’s introduction to Peripheral Visions.

9 small, incredibly expensive and mostly composed of commercial spaces and Museums, others are much more residential, cheaper, and diverse.30 Allow me to say a few words about my own positionality: I learned to speak French as a child and attended French school for years before living in for over a year. Neither language, garb, or accent make me stand out among the attendees of the conseils. At times, however, my note-taking would draw attention and someone— typically someone sitting close to me—would ask if I lived in the neighborhood. In those cases, I replied that I was interested in local iterations of democratic politics which seemed to satisfy most of those who asked. On a few occasions, my interlocutor replied by saying that that was not a problem since these meetings were public. I refrained from voting and speaking (except when directly interpellated) in all meetings. In combining political theory with ethnographic observations, I seek to refine and complement our understanding of democratic practices within avowedly democratic spaces. As such, this paper is not really about applied democratic theory, but, more precisely, about a dialogue between political theory and ethnographic observations. The point is that political theory need not be detached from empirical reality and that there exists a version of doing normative and theoretical work that is informed and revised by observable experiences and exchanges, not merely as idealized illustrations of a point, but as fundamental to the refinement of theoretical frameworks.

Low-Stakes Democratic Deliberation in the City This section is organized around two sets of observations from which I draw some theoretical lessons: first, on democratic forms and, second, on exclusionary practices.

Democratic forms and forums As mentioned above, the neighborhood meetings of Paris—the Conseils de Quartier— are extolled by the administrative bodies of the city as the core of democratic life, epitomizing both what is called in France "participatory democracy" and "proximity democracy" (democratie de proximité). While the idea behind "participatory democracy" is not difficult to surmise, the concept of a proximity democracy was proposed in 2002 to counter the centralization

30 Information on the demographics of the neighborhoods came from http://www.cartostat.eu/ and Yann Caenen, Claire Decondé, Danielle Jabot, Corinne Martinez, “Une mosaïque sociale propre à Insee Analyses Ile-de-France, No 53, February 3, 2017, https://www.insee.fr/fr/statistiques/2572750. The INSEE and APUR also provide some information specific to each arrondissement based on the census of 2016.

10 of the French government and the classic drawback it carries, such as a detachment from local and individualized challenges.31 The idea was simply that those who inhabit an urban space are often more attuned to its needs and challenges that the elected representatives who govern from afar. Additionally, however, "proximity democracy" was conceived to incorporate some ideas of direct democracy, such as local referenda, mechanisms to channel petitions and proposals from citizens, and a space to organize.32 Neighborhood meetings were imagined as spaces that could simultaneously address several of these concerns while strengthening the democratic-ness of the city. Yet, although imagined as being spaces for the strengthening of democratic dynamics, Conseils de Quartier could easily become long sessions for the complaints of lonely people, neighborhood gossip, or collective venting. And yet—although there was collective venting and some gossip at play—participants explicitly stated that their discussions were about the very stuff that constitutes a democracy, even amidst conversations about dog excrement and public urination. For example, during a September neighborhood meeting of the Bercy neighborhood in the 12th arrondissement 33—a meeting that was particularly well attended and in which I counted almost eighty persons—there was an intense discussion that began when a thin man with short blond hair who could have been in his twenties stood up to explain that there was one particular bus stop close to his home that used to be very well served by the transit system. The servicing of the stop, however, had deteriorated and buses only infrequently stopped there. Since there was no public bathroom nearby, he explained, those waiting for the bus ended up urinating in the street. After listening in silence, another attendee replied that a public bathroom should be built. Others chimed in to say that it was an exaggeration to demand a public bathroom for passersby and that the conseil should privilege the needs of those inhabiting the quartier (over the needs of those commuting through the quartier) to which the Maire of the arrondissement replied that those who were insisting on the distinction did not sleep in the vicinities of the bus stop (“vous connnaissez l’endroit, mais vous n’y dormez pas, Monsieur”). The conversation on public urination continued for a few minutes. When the meeting was taken to a halt because it had run for over two hours, an older man who had been sitting close to the back of the room

31 The official discourse on the topic is available online at Vie Publique. For a scholarly account of centralization in France, see Jonah Levy, Tocqueville’s Revenge. State, Society, and Economy in Contemporary France (Boston: Harvard University Press, 1999). 32 Also in Paris.fr, “Toutes les Instances Representatives de la Ville,” https://tinyurl.com/yy7awuw9. 33 12ème arrondissement, Quartier de Bercy, Elementary School Gerty Archimède, September 22, 2015, 19h30-21h46.

11 said loudly enough that everyone could hear him: "Not everyone agrees, but, well, that is what living in a Republic is about!" Another allusion to French republicanism came during a Conseil de Quartier of the 17th arrondissement in October.34 The meeting itself was held in a public school and much of the conversation revolved around schooling. A young woman sitting a few rows behind me asked if children who were experiencing learning difficulties had the same courses than others did in other public schools. The principal of the school, who was present, retorted "Yes! It is the principle of the Republic!" to the nods of everyone in the audience. This same idea was brought up again when someone inquired about vegetarian options for children and the limited resources offered to them. In another council in the 13th arrondissement, early in October, a woman sitting next to me said right after a vote regarding a change of the name of the neighborhood, with a matter-of-factly tone that seemed oddly satisfied, "democracy is very quick!"35 Yet another example: in the 11th arrondissement, on October 13th, a proposal to keep a room of the Mairie open for the homeless every night until 5:00 AM during the winter months was submitted to a vote.36 "Why are the homeless (les sans-abri) put in the street at 5:00 am?" a woman asked. A representative of the Mairie replied that the room served many concurrent functions and that, despite the good intentions undergirding the vote, the project seemed unfeasible: "we try to provide answers to all these sorrows (ces détresses), but," he added, "we cannot propose a project that would undermine others." Despite the cautionary note of the representative of the Mairie, the project was submitted to a vote by the audience and passed smoothly with 28 votes in favor, 3 against, and 9 abstentions (including mine). Immediately after the results of the vote were announced, someone who had voted "no" asked for the microphone, saying she wanted to explain her vote further. She was told that the vote had already been cast and that there was no time for personal justifications beyond the deliberation itself. Someone sitting behind me exclaimed: "That is the magic of democracy! We can vote on all sorts of subjects. And we let the democratic game play out!" In another meeting in the same arrondissement (but in a different neighborhood) in which the same proposal was discussed, one of the members of the board exclaimed

34 Conseil de Quartier, 17ème, Collège de Saussure, October 1st, 2015. 19h15 - 21h15. 35 Conseil de Quartier du 13ème arrondissement, quartier Biblioseine. École Primo Levi. Wednesday, September 30th, 2015, 19h - 21hrs. 36 Conseil de Quartier du 11ème, 29, rue Alexandre Dumas, École Élémentaire, October 13th, 2015, 19hrs-21h05

12 after hearing the arguments made by the audience "I truly want to congratulate you on the role of solidarity in these deliberations... we do not only care about dog poop (on n'est pas que dans les crottes de chien)!" The comment seemed to have been made partly in jest because most of the conversations (although not all) turn indeed around dog excrement, public urination, or small embellishments to the neighborhood. Regardless of how low-stakes the topics of some of these conversations are, in particular when confronted with the social and political challenges that make the frontpage of newspapers every day, the meetings seem to be understood by attendees and representatives of the Mairie alike as providing a space and a time in which democratic forms can be practiced: deliberation and disagreement; the possibilities of reaching a better decision through argumentation; the logics of voting; the weight of the majority; and French republicanism. I want to suggest that it is precisely because the content of these discussions is at times so unexceptional that attendees can focus on the form of the exchange:37 everyone knows to sit quietly and listen to others; they reply directly to the arguments posed and highlight inconsistencies; they demand evidence and precision from elected representatives;38 they vote by a show of hands and are bound by the outcome; manage budgets; and—perhaps most interestingly to me—they punctuate these administrative processes with short sentences and brief congratulatory cheers on republicanism, the democratic thrust, and the national values that undergird their convictions and willingness to participate in the proceedings. The simplicity of the topics also makes the meetings feasible on a very frequent basis without exhausting the attendees, exercising democratic habits through repetition and exchanges, lest they weaken or be forgotten, what Tocqueville called democratic mores and habits of the heart. Differently put, content that is difficult and very consequential requires attention and deep thought. Seemingly unremarkable content has at least two virtues: first, it is “democratizing” in that it makes the discussion accessible to almost anyone. Since all attendees live in the neighborhood, whatever knowledge is needed to partake in the conversations can be obtained in the pursuit of their daily lives. Whereas certain topics that pertain to the governance of a city might be rigged with technicalities that could complicate the discussion for those without the technical knowledge needed to contribute to the conversation, the matters deliberated in the Conseils de Quartier are simple: anyone and everyone can have an

37 Namely, if the topic at hand was tremendously convoluted, attendees might have to focus on the complicated arguments being debates, their implications, and drawbacks. 38 There was a discussion that was particularly funny on the advantages of using sheep instead of land mowers to cut the grass of Paris’ public parks.

13 informed opinion. Second, unremarkable content is not distracting. Attendees can focus their attention on the fact that they are “deliberating,” “letting the democratic game play out,” or witnessing the workings of the republican values of the republic. When content and topics are complicated or distressing, most of the attention focuses on the premises, assumptions, or implications of the ideas—the content. Before closing this section, I would like to highlight one more point that directly relate to the conseils as a place and a space that fosters a sort of democratic practice: the physical space where the meetings are being held. Indeed, all the meetings I attended (as well as those happening simultaneously and for which I had information) took place either in public schools—typically in the gym or in a classroom, depending on the expected attendance—or in one of the rooms of the Mairie. I will thread lightly around what can be surmised from the fact that the discussions are held in these specific physical spaces because there are not many more options for institutionalized public gathering. Whatever stems from the affections or memories tied to these places is probably not explicitly stated by the Mairie—although governmental officials may well have conceived of these sites as being conducive to these encounters and conversations. Yet, actively pursued or not, both the public school and the Mairie are powerful symbols and reminders of national and democratic attachments. A bust of the Marianne, an allegory of reason, liberty, and the Republic, is often found on public schools and Mairies alike in Paris. The Marianne is a beloved symbol, decorating French postage stamps since the liberation of France from German occupation in 1944.39 “Liberté, égalité, fraternité” (freedom, equality, and fraternity), the motto of State inherited from the Revolution, is carved as well both on the entrances of public schools and governmental buildings.40 Most public schools also have a small plate in memory of the children who were sent to concentration camps by the Nazis with the collaboration of the Vichy government.41 If one is to believe that there is something to Foucault’s notion of governmentality and the making of the subject through small technologies of power, then both the Mairies and the public schools are physical sites that help constitute republican persons in France simultaneously

39 “Marianne,” L’Élysée, http://www.elysee.fr/la-presidence/marianne/, accessed November 15, 2016. 40 The one exception that I noted and strongly stood out to me was the primary school where the Conseil de Quartier of the 20ème arrondissement was held on November 12, 2015. The meeting was held in what looked like an elementary school built a long time ago, a large brick building that took an entire block and is located just in front of a residential unit. On top of the entrance to the school “Ordre, probité, et bonté” (order, probity, and kindness) and "le mensonge est vil” (lies are vile) were written. 41 The plates typically read “ in memory of the innocent victims of Nazi barbarity with the active complicity of the Vichy government.”

14 through mnemonics and through the provision of a physical space that is designed as a site for republican learning.42 The physical space of the elementary school thus provides the space to nourish citizenship at its most basic level in different ways: as an elementary school itself, as a site where immigrants (or people who just want to) can learn French, and as a site in which the reunions of the smallest unit of citizenly life are held. Foucault writes of the French school building in the 19th and 20th centuries that it “was to be a mechanism for training. (…) [The] mechanisms [of surveillance] can only be seen as unimportant if one forgets the role of this instrumentation, minor but flawless, in the progressive objectification and the ever more subtle partitioning of individual behavior.”43 I do not intent to suggest that the participants of the Conseils de Quartier were being disciplined into democratic citizens through their irregular participation in these meetings. That might be an argumentative stretch. Nonetheless, in the spirit of Pavlov’s dogs experiment, holding the meetings in school buildings carved with the slogans and adorned with the sculpted busts of most public schools in France may well bring back memories among participants of school years and lessons on French history, citizenship, and republicanism. Indeed, during a meeting of the 15th arrondissement that took place on November 13th, 2015,44 when the discussion became heated, someone retorted, “I do not know if you have noticed this, but we are in a school. Here we learn to behave properly and listen (ici on apprend a bien se tenir et s’écouter).” These neighborhood meetings provide a moment to practice democratic habits in a physical space that, although carved with reminders of civic lessons, is relatively non- contentious, non-partisan, and noncommittal in virtue of the mundanity and dullness of the topics discussed. In other words, inhabitants of these quartiers have an opportunity to practice their democratic habits in a way that is similar to the debating skills that students hone in their Model United Nations teams. Nonetheless, it is not always easy to find the Conseils de Quartier. The next section discusses the subtle ways in which participation in these meetings is curtailed or at times even policed.

42 See, for instance, Foucault’s discussion on docile bodies in the classroom in Discipline and Punish, where he addresses the thought that goes beyond the architectural composition of the school. In Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison, trans. by Alan Sheridan (New York: Vintage Books, 1995), 146-147, or his treatment of the architectural setup of the school on pages 172 and 173. For similar discussions, see Jo Pike, “Foucault, space and primary school dining rooms,” Children's Geographies, 6 (2008): 413-422 and Chris Berk’s book manuscript, “Democracy in Captivity: Essays on the political situation of prisoners, patients, and others in custody” (PhD dissertation, The University of Chicago, 2016). 43 In Discipline and Punish, 173. 44 The meeting finished before the attacks, and thus, it was not interrupted by news about them.

15 Subtle Exclusions I have suggested that although the virtues and foundational legal norms of the Conseils de Quartier were prominently featured in the websites of the Mairies, the logistics for each meeting were difficult to find, in part because there is not a unified system that centralizes the information on dates and location (this might not be coincidental since the Conseils de Quartier are part of a project of “proximity democracy” that seeks to offset centralizing tendencies). How complicated it is to figure out the schedule of the meetings was mentioned by a woman attending a meeting in the 5th arrondissement of Paris. She began by saying that she and her husband had lived in the quartier for 34 years and she still could not figure out the schedule of the meetings. She added that she liked the idea of coming together and creating more “festive” projects for the neighborhood.45 In another conseil, this one on November 23 and in the 13th arrondissement, the meeting was opened with an announcement: the dates and locations for meetings for the following three months would be announced that day to respond to people’s complaints. Additionally, even if one knows the time and location of a meeting, that information only gets someone as far as the entry door of a Mairie or a school. In at least a third of the meetings I attended, the entry door of the building was closed and locked. In other cases, there were security guards standing in front of the door, their bodies physically blocking the entry. A few times, the entry was open but also dark (since most meetings take place in the evenings). When running two minutes late for a meeting in the 7th arrondissement, for instance, I hurriedly passed the open doors of the Mairie only to be ran after by a middle-aged man with a blazer who yelled at me “Madame!” while frowning and moving both his hands in outwards circles, as if asking me where was I headed.46 I said I was going to the Conseil de Quartier, but that I was late. His demeanor immediately changed and he pointed towards the main building of the Mairie: “Center door, then walk to the ending, and make a left.” Something similar happened when I arrived for a meeting in the 6th arrondissement, which—like the 7th—is amongst the wealthiest of Paris. When I reached the Mairie, there were two guards standing right in front of the door which appeared to be shut as if the Mairie was officially closed for the day. Their two bodies covered the entire entrance. I inquired about the meeting after which they stepped aside in opposite directions as if they themselves were the doors of the Mairie. More notoriously, the door of the Mairie of

45 Conseil de Quartier, 5ème arrondissement, 21, Place du Panthéon, 75005. Friday, September 18th, 2015 - 18:38 – 20:06. 46 Conseil de Quartier, 7ème, 18h30, Mairie, 116, rue de Grenelle, September 21, 2015, 18:50– 19:50.

16 the 2nd arrondissement was completely closed when I arrived. I knocked and rang the doorbell to no avail. Although the meetings are open to the public—partaking in them actually requires a certain know-how of the workings of a specific Mairie (which I often lacked) and making oneself visible to the gaze of others by explicitly addressing those policing the entry. Although the sole formal requirement to partake in the neighborhood meetings is to live in the neighborhood, one could easily imagine that, for someone who recently moved to the city, for an undocumented person, or for someone who does not feel confident on her language skills in French, the series of steps necessary to enter the meeting might be emotionally taxing and not worth the trouble. The guards might not be denying the entry to anyone, but their mere presence suggests that there is something inside that ought to be policed and protected. This point was particularly clear with regards to the workings of the Conseil de Paris which, as explained, is the deliberative body of the entire city of Paris. The website of the Conseil announces that, although it is possible to observe the deliberations of the Conseil de Paris, seating is very limited.47 I thus arrive early in the morning as warned but I am told that the meeting will not begin for another 45 minutes, that I can stand next to an older woman, and that if any seats become available, they will call me. “Merci,” I reply and walk to the older lady, with whom I strike a conversation and who tells me she has been waiting for an hour. We wait for about ten minutes during which a few more persons, in suit and tie, arrive to the entrance and stand, scattered. Quite suddenly the officer waves, seemingly not addressing anyone in particular, and declares “We have six spots!” while he leans his head to listen to the radio he is holding with his right hand. Five of the formally dressed persons quickly go through the entrance, as if they knew what they were doing. The older woman standing next to me seems confused by the movement and is not walking fast enough. I feel bad leaving her there knowing that she had been waiting for so long. The guard then says, “Only one more spot.” I tell the older woman to go ahead before me, and see her go through. I approach the guard to ask him how long does he think the wait will it be. He gestures me to keep quiet while he listens to something in his radio. I ask if there are going to let other people in, “Yes—well, who knows. Maybe. Schoolchildren come sometimes and need a lot of space. But you might as well go grab a cup of coffee because it will take at least an hour or two.” I stand aside to decide whether I should just leave. Suddenly, the guard waves at me enthusiastically, while he speaks in his radio, frowning a little. I can hear him say

47 See “Conseils de Paris-Assister aux séances,” https://tinyurl.com/yykk3qul.

17 “Two spots? Yes, all right, two? That’s right?” He then looks at me and tells me there are two spots that have just opened up and that they are the last ones. He lets me in and points towards the first of three security checkpoints that I go through. Finally, right outside of the doors of the room where the Conseil is being held, I am asked to leave my coat, bag, phone, and wallet in a locker. I enter with a notebook and a pencil. A guard opens the door of the room: to my astonishment, the space reserved for the public is mostly empty, except for the six other persons who walked in before me. There are rows and rows of empty seats. The policing of the entrance to the Conseil de Paris is structurally similar to the smaller scale policing of the Conseils de Quartier: formally, the space is open and public, but entering is neither self-evident nor simple. The officers at the entry function, in a way, as guardians of a cherished idea of what a democracy is and of the spaces in which that democracy can physically take place: the rooms in which ideas may be debated, in which disagreements could be vented, and votes counted. Following Goffman, one could find in these small gestures a lens to read what are the “common official values of the society in which” they occur. And, from the limited experience of Parisian conseils, there is a common and shared conviction that democratic and national attachments and their conditions of possibility ought to be protected.48 Unlike the Conseils de Quartiers where a form of deliberation between peers does indeed occur (even though the topics are unremarkable), the deliberations of the Conseil de Paris—where the kind of democratic politics commonly considered meaningful take place—are nothing but the perfunctory votes along party lines that those who call democracies homes have grown jaded and accustomed with.

* * *

What the conseils de quartier provide is a space to practice democratic habits and reproduce national attachments, to hone democratic mores. It is the form, and not necessarily the content—which is, indeed, low-stakes—that stands out. Because the stakes are low and the discussions simple, the requirements needed to be part of these conversations are lowered, fostering inclusion and equal power (as knowledge) in the discussion, thus opening the democratic exercise to all in a manner that is much more quotidian than elections that only engage citizens in a temporally limited and

48 Goffman, Presentation of Self in Everyday Life, 35.

18 punctuated manner.49 Moreover, unlike debates in national legislative bodies where high-stakes voting typically happens along party lines, those who partake in neighborhood meetings exemplify the virtues of cross-cutting cleavages: at times, someone might vote with the majority, other times they might side with the minority, at times aligning with one group and others favoring another. In doing so, neighborhood meetings foster a sense of community and shared interests. In Jane Mansbridge’s terminology, neighborhood meetings exemplify unitary democratic practices articulated around shared interests, and not the adversary democracy of competing claims in national legislative bodies.50 This is all, as I suggested, conditional on getting in. I attended neighborhood meetings before and after the terrorist attacks of November 2015. The attacks, which happened in multiple sites within a few hours, led to a declaration of a state of emergency, three days of mourning, and a tightening of controls at the borders. Two weeks later, the government organized a national homage to the victims of the attacks in which the song, “Quand on n’a que l’amour” (when love is all you have) by was movingly performed by Camelia Jordana, Yaël Naïm, and . Informally, Parisians reacted just as strongly: although people gathered near a few symbolic places—such as the Place de la République—to mourn together, most of the city seemed empty for weeks. The streets were silent. The Halles—the market place and transportation stop buzzing on a frenzy on a typical day—was quiet; cafés were empty and the entire city seemed to have slowed down. I mention this, not for the sake of cheap sentimentality, but because in the few weeks of the aftermath of the attacks Paris seemed an altogether different city. Because of that, I expected the Conseils de Quartier to function as smaller and more localized spaces to continue the vexing process of grieving together, perhaps venting anxieties about security, and mostly, moving from a discussion where dog excrement featured prominently to higher-stakes ones around security and peace. Although conseils were cancelled for the days immediately after the attacks, soon after, they resumed. One thing changed and another one did not: on one side, the policing of the entry points for the meetings heightened, although never veering into outright invasions of privacy or the prohibition of entry. On the other side, even though conversations on the attacks abounded while participants waited for meetings to begin, the second that the meetings were called to order, the gossip and speculations on the attacks ceased, and conversations on the most mundane concerns of the

49 Emilee Chapman, however, argues that it is precisely because they are so extra-ordinary that they matter. See her book manuscript. [find complete citation] 50 Jane Mansbridge, Beyond Adversary Democracy.

19 neighborhood resumed, as if the beginning of a class or an exercise had been called to order. Here is a final example: during a meeting at the quartier of Croulebarbe of the 13th arrondissement, I sit behind a group of women who are whispering and talking to one another. One of the women says that her grandson was in the hospital after the attacks and she was helping out. Another one interjects saying that her granddaughter thankfully got sick on November 13th: her mother (the daughter of the woman telling the story) stayed home to take care of her child instead of going to the Bataclan—the deadliest of the sites of the attacks. The women continue to whisper and discuss the attacks. Sighs and gasps follow. Then, a man standing at the front of the room raises his voice and says that the meeting will now begin. In a mannerism akin to that of schoolchildren, the women straighten up, and stop talking. One of them laughs: "I used to do exactly this when I was in school." Once the meeting starts, the attacks were not referenced a single time. In the middle of a context of national grief in which Paris seemed to have silenced, conseils de quartier continued to provide a space to exercise democratic habits with topics that were unremarkable and thus rarely vexing. Just like carrying out simple tasks can be relaxing for a tired mind, partaking in these meetings and discussing mundane problems under democratic forms seemed to suggest that through the repetition of these democratic processes, Parisians could restore their everyday lives and recover a sense of normality. By sustaining a space in which conversations around dog excrement, urination, public lighting, and flower pots can be had; in preserving a space in which unremarkable conversations are presented under democratic forms and in the spaces where democratic and republic practices are taught—the public schools and the Mairies, the democratic city perseveres and becomes resilient to national tragedies. In these seemingly mundane sites, democratic deliberation is practiced sustaining democratic attachments and republican habits.

20