In a Europe Torn Over Mosques, A City Offers Accommodation

"Anti-mosque initiatives are the new mobilizers of the right wing," said Riem Spielhaus, a specialist in European-Islamic issues at Berlin's Humboldt University. "The mosques are symbols of the permanent presence of Muslims. They are investing in bricks. They are going to stay."

Cathala, a Socialist Party member who has been mayor of Creteil for three decades, sees the new mosque as "part of the demographic evolution of our town. If you're for social justice, you can't acknowledge part of the population and not acknowledge another part -- especially concerning their religion."

France has the largest number of Muslims of any country in Europe, an estimated 5 million -- about 8 percent of the population. In suburban communities such as Creteil, population 88,000, the percentage is often higher -- 20 percent here, according to Muslim association president Benaissa.

Creteil lies southeast of Paris at the terminus of the No. 8 Metro line. Trains stop at Paris landmarks such as the Opera House and Place de la Concorde before arriving at the sprawling town of white high-rise apartments, glass office complexes and American-style, boxy suburban malls. The place bears little resemblance to the Paris at the other end of the track.

The restaurant nearest the front steps of city hall serves a daily special called "Couscous comme la bas" -- "couscous like they make it over there," in immigrant home countries of the Middle East. This year's Ramadan feast at a local gymnasium drew 5,000 Muslims.

The idea for the new Creteil mosque was conceived 15 years ago but remained mired in internal Muslim feuds for nearly a decade. Algerian, Moroccan and Tunisian Muslims could agree on little except that the town needed to get its faithful out of three tiny makeshift prayer halls -- none with a capacity of more than 200 people -- and into a real house of worship.

"There was a generation gap," recalled Benaissa, 44, who moved to France from Algeria at age 18 to go to college. "The older generation wanted to stick together with people from the original country; the new generation that was born here had different ideas."

Then Mayor Cathala stepped in and offered to help find land and financing for a mosque complex that would include a restaurant, bookstore, library, exhibition hall and study rooms.

But he also had a list of demands. The Muslim community had to agree on a single spokesman, the mosque should be an architectural gem worthy of its prominent lakeside setting, the fundraising would be transparent, and the common areas of the complex would be open to all community residents, not only Muslims.

In return, Cathala would apply a liberal interpretation of a century-old French law barring the use of public funds for religious buildings. He persuaded a majority of the city council to provide nearly $1.5 million to help build the cultural center of the complex -- the cafe, exhibition center, bathhouse, bookstore and study rooms.

Several French mayors have used the approach of bureaucratically separating a mosque from an associated cultural center in order to assist Muslim communities.

The motivations for that help have not always been altruistic. "After 9/11 in the U.S. and the rise of terrorism in Europe, French authorities wanted to have more control over Islam in France," said Abdallah Zekri, an adviser to the French Council of Muslim Associations. "They realized that underground prayer halls in cellars helped extreme preachers who complained that in France, Muslims were treated like rats, while Catholics had beautiful churches."