On a recent trip to Paris, I had plans to meet an American friend at a new burger joint in the Latin Quarter.  After fumbling to figure out a way to get there by public transportation, I gave up in favor of a cab ride because it was getting late.

The driver, a man in his early sixties, was well dressed in a suit, and sounded educated. His accent gave him away as a first-generation North African. I decided to leverage my taxi fare to gain insights into the burning topic of migrants, against the backdrop of France's Muslims’ uneven integration into their adoptive country.

As an entry point into the conversation, I asked my driver which of the three Maghreb countries he was from. "Algeria," was his reply. Good! I knew his country for having worked there in 1998, in the thick of the civil war, on a UN fact-finding mission. This immediately got him started: "Ah, Madam, the West almost destroyed my country with its backing of Islamists....  It took Algeria years to get back on its feet."

He used to be an engineer before leaving his embattled country for France, where he now worked as a taxi driver: "The West was already helping Islamic terrorists back then, as it does now in Syria...history is repeating itself."

I baited him to hear more: "Is that right? The UN Panel’s Chairman wanted to interview the FIS, the banned Islamist Party. He said he wanted to be even-handed and talk to all political parties. 

"It was not about fairness,” interjected my driver, "there is a plan to destabilize the Middle-East.

"To be sure, your minister was totally opposed to that interview. He believed it would give terrorists legitimacy and complicate things for the government.”

Then, changing the subject, I asked him if he had found integration in France difficult. “No,” was his answer, “but you know, I am Kabyle and it makes all the difference.”

Kabyles do not consider themselves to be Arabs, that much I knew, and they have an ambivalent relationship with their fellow Algerians of Arab origin, to say the least. Therefore, it made sense that it was easier for them to integrate into France. What always surprised me, though, is that Kabyles who deny any Arab identity, quite readily identity with Islam, even though the latter was brought by the former to the land of the Berbers.[1]

After lunch and another failed attempt at taking public transportation, I found myself inside a taxi again, headed to my next appointment. Another cab, another Algerian driver, another interviewing opportunity and a 180-degree perspective shift.

This one was quite young and spoke excellent French with a Parisian accent. He was born in France but his darker skin color and discourse pointed to his Arab ancestry.

I started with a compliment on his French and casually asked if he felt more French or Algerian. “Algerian!” was his cry of the heart.

My expression of surprise was to invite him to say more. He was bitter and defiant: ”How could I feel French when people’s gaze make me feel otherwise, day in and day out? And you know what? I don’t give a damn, one way or the other!”

It was as if his buttons had been pushed, for he let it all out without any prompting: “If tomorrow France was at war with Algeria, I would fight on Algeria’s side. Even if Algeria was the one to attack France.”

“Wow, this is rather extreme. But you surely must feel very unhappy living in a country that you don’t like? Why stay here?”

There was a moment’s hesitation, some rambling about the decision made by his father a long time ago to go and work in France. Then, with the law on family reunification, they had all come to join him.

He suddenly volunteered: “ Actually, it is only with us, with the people of the Maghreb, that immigration was not successful. With all others, the Portuguese, the Italian, it all worked out fine in the end, after a bit of tension in the beginning.”

“Oh, and why is that?”

 “I have no idea...”

I took a deep breath before asking my Barbara Walters question:

“Could it be the Koran, which creates a competing loyalty, that of the Umma?”

 “No, no, it has nothing to do with that.”

“Hmm, so what could it be?”

“I think it is because no other wave of immigration followed the first one.”

(Factually incorrect - there were five cycles of Algerian migration before the 1962 independence, and three immigration waves since then).

He explained: “Regarding the Portuguese and Italians, after the arrival of their second wave of immigrants and the attendant tensions and conflicts, their first generation was... you know...forced to assimilate.”

In a seeming departure from his previous comment, he exclaimed,

“I see... So you’re saying the second pushed the first into place? But let me ask you this - knowing what you know about the difficulties of integration, what is your position on immigration, are you for or against it?”

“Oh, I am absolutely against it. Nobody is happy, in the end. It is much better for people to stay in their homeland, where they belong. It is not good to be uprooted.”

I couldn’t have agreed more. Our elites too, probably. Yet, turning entire populations into homeless nomads had to be serving someone’s agenda - ordo ab chao... But this was another story and, anyway, I had already reached my destination.