France and Azerbaijan: So close, but why so far?

Frankly, we do not understand.

France and Azerbaijan, two countries of infinite cultural wealth, have so much in common. We need look no further than Nizami Ganjavi, the 12th-century champion of the values of liberty, equality and fraternity that would become the hallmarks of the Age of Enlightenment five centuries later; the Francophile, Francophone princess-poetess Natavan, whom Alexandre Dumas met and admired; and Baku’s architecture, inspired by Haussmann’s, which led to the Azerbaijani capital being called “the Paris of the Caucasus”.

We could also mention music. The traditional Mugham and the more classical Leyli and Majnun, the first opera in the Muslim world, by Azerbaijani composer Uzeyir Hadjibeyov, which premiered in Baku in 1908 and was performed before General de Gaulle during his visit in 1944. Baku is also one of the world’s painting capitals, with a host of renowned artists, including Vugar Muradov, Anar Huseynzade, Farid Rasulov and many others.

Azerbaijan was a pioneer when it came to the emancipation of women, giving them the right to vote 14 years before France did. Finally, it is one of the most multicultural countries on the planet, with its Shiite and Sunni mosques, synagogues, churches and temples, and its peoples whose traditions are preserved and encouraged. It is also the first secular country in the region.

So, we do not understand. We do not understand why French politicians spew so much hatred towards this Francophile country, why a city wants to remove the statue of the poetess Natavan, a symbol of gender equality, why France stubbornly supports armed groups who occupied Azerbaijan for almost 30 years, in defiance of international law and UN resolutions voted for by France itself.

Of course, we can always blame the power of the lobby formed by the blind and die-hard French Armenian diaspora. But why go along with their absurd propaganda, and the avalanche of hatred they pour out online?

And yet, despite everything, the Azerbaijanis love France, at least the admirable and admired France of Molière, Victor Hugo and Zola, and the France of those foreigners who came to share their culture, their identity, without ever abandoning their own: Leonardo da Vinci, Picasso, Dali, Chagall, Giacometti, Ionesco, Beckett, Kundera, Semprún, Chopin, Villa-Lobos, Albeniz, Rachmaninov, Honegger, Miles Davis, Cziffra, and Azerbaijan’s Robert Hossein and Mstislav Rostropovitch. There are thousands more like them who have chosen France as their host country.

All French people who visit Azerbaijan fall in love with this magnificent country, so far removed from the image that the French media unfortunately try to impose on the public.

Lucie is a young doctoral student who chose to make a life for herself in Baku. Enchanted by the country, she was struck by the similarities between the two cultures, and uses theater as a vector for bringing them closer together. “I’m in Azerbaijan to consolidate our relations in the cultural sphere,” she says. “I believe that theater, and even more so comedy, can help us open up to a country without prejudice. It’s a universal space where the community comes together on an equal footing. Unfortunately, in the current context, this is not an easy mission. But I hope to find support for this type of initiative both in France and in Azerbaijan. For example, I have twice had the opportunity to stage French plays in Baku with Azerbaijani students learning French. Once at the Université Franco-Azerbaïdjanaise (UFAZ) with ‘Le bourgeois gentilhomme’ (The Bourgeois Gentleman) by Molière, and once at UFC, a foreign language center, with ‘Le prix du bonheur’ (The Price of Happiness) by Alexandre Dumas fils.

“And I am doing my doctoral thesis on dramaturgy. ‘The archetypes of literary characters in the works of Molière and Mirza Fatali Akhundov’.

“I would like to see Azerbaijan and France renew friendly relations with the aim of consolidating their partnerships in the fields of education and culture,” adds Lucie, “In particular, with creating exhibitions of French painters, French literary salons and French theatrical stages in Azerbaijan, so that in the eyes of Azerbaijanis France is not limited to the Eiffel Tower, perfumes, croissants and, alas, some ill-conceived initiatives.

“In France, too, I would love to see a wider access to Azerbaijani culture and language through university exchanges, so that French people’s vision of Azerbaijan is not limited to the conflict with its neighbor, but that they see the beauty of its culture, the hospitality, the modesty of its people, and their love of beauty in all things.”

Serge has lived and worked in Azerbaijan for 6 years. He too finds it hard to understand the “official” French position on the country: “I invite the French to come and discover Azerbaijan for themselves. See Baku and the other cities, see the reality of multiculturalism, the various ethnic groups. There are Muslims, Catholics, Orthodox, Jews, Tat, Talish, Udi and Lezgin minorities here, and you have to see that for yourself. No one is persecuted here. For me, it was a real revelation, and I said to myself that if there is such a thing as a secular, multicultural country, it’s Azerbaijan. Come and discover this country, and you will see the joy of its people, who are Russian, Persian and Turkic.”

We could also mention Maurice, former director of the French Institute in Baku and son of a famous French academic, who has set up a restaurant in the old town of Baku where the French flag flies proudly, without provoking even the slightest disapproval on the part of the Bakuvians.

As for Azerbaijanis, despite the calumnies that a particular France spreads about them, they welcome the French with indescribable kindness, as if there were nothing wrong. Azerbaijanis in France are even campaigning for the two countries to rediscover the bond that held them together for so many years, before others set out to break it.

Aytan Muradova is Vice President of the Paris-based Association Dialogue France-Azerbaïdjan, which organizes concerts and cultural events throughout the year.

“My grandfather’s life was saved in a concentration camp during World War 2 thanks to a French doctor who shared his meagre provisions with him,” she tells us. “Since then, in our family, we have all grown up with a love of France and its literature, and for the past 30 years, I have been committed to promoting Azerbaijan here, its music, its writers and its unique multiethnic culture. I hope that this dialogue, once established between Heydar Aliyev and François Mitterrand, then Jacques Chirac, will regain the strength it once had, because it is necessary, not least for the peaceful balance in the region.”

Reza Deghati is an internationally renowned photographer. His photos of Commander Massoud have travelled around the world. He lives between Baku and Paris: “France is my home and my port of call,” he says. “It is the standard bearer of one of the civilizations that has marked the history of humanity. Azerbaijan and France have a great deal in common and can work together for peace in the Caucasus region, provided of course that France bases its policy on reality and not on what the evil geniuses of hatred whisper to it.”

Maya represents the new generation of Azerbaijani photographers. At the age of 25, her piercing eye captures the contrasts of Baku, the distress of the devastated territories of Karabakh, the memory of the prehistoric life of the first Caucasians in Gobustan, and the fervor of the Mountain Jews in Krasnaya Soboda. “The French language has a special place in our family. My aunt and uncle speak French, and as soon as I could, I learned it too,” she says. “I came to study photojournalism in Paris, I entered competitions, I did reports on the Yellow Vests, on the Zadists. Today, alongside my work as a photographer, I teach music at the Lycée français de Bakou, Baku French Lyceum, a prestigious high school, a little corner of France in the Caucasus.” What is her wish? That her photos help to make the French more familiar with the subtleties of the Azerbaijani soul.

What madness could have inspired the French MPs to terminate the French-Azerbaijani parliamentary friendship group? What blindness led the mayor of Evian to rename the Park of Azerbaijan, while avenues all over France honor Marshal Bugeaud, the murderer of tens of thousands of Algerians?

No, xenophobia, the myth of the “clash of civilizations”, the nebulous theory of the “great replacement”, this is not France. These deadly ideologies are the outposts of a brown plague that is galloping back to trample on the values inscribed on the pediments of our buildings since the Revolution, and only replaced in the dreary days of the Occupation.

But let’s not despair. Peace is being established directly between Azerbaijan and Armenia, far from the sterile agitation of the so-called “mediator” countries. What will these politicians say when the two countries become friendly nations again? That it was ridiculous of them to take sides with the movements behind dozens of terrorist attacks that claimed over 70 lives, while Armenia and Azerbaijan were striving to find a peaceful solution to their conflict? Perhaps. But it is rarely the prerogative of politicians to demonstrate contrition. In reality, the majority of French politicians were elected by default, and the people no longer give them any credit. Let’s hope then that, with or without them, Azerbaijan and France will rekindle friendly relations that can only be mutually enriching.