(Paris) I arrived in Paris the day after particularly divisive legislative elections. The French, whether they were from the radical left, the center or the extreme right, were tearing each other apart. Politicians were insulting each other as best they could. I felt like I was witnessing a big family argument, half an hour before receiving a visit for New Year’s Eve.
On the very day of the opening ceremony, acts of sabotage on the railway network raised fears that the Olympic Games would be marked by instability, insecurity and violence. Financial Times found a nice formula to capture the mood of the moment.
Liberty, equality, gloom.
A month after my arrival, Paris has been transformed by the Games. The city has regained its spark and its joie de vivre. Evil tongues here whisper that this pleasant atmosphere was due to the exodus of the most boring Parisians during the Olympic fortnight. Perhaps, but there is more to it than that.
Between the sporting exploits and the logistical successes, these Games have exceeded even the most optimistic expectations. “We had planned everything, anticipated everything. Everything… except success,” the philosopher Pascal Bruckner rightly commented in The Point.
From these Games, I remember three words.
Pride, modernity, fraternity.
Pride, because the Parisians were exemplary hosts. No riots, no major strikes, very few security incidents. Demonstrations? The only ones I witnessed were those of jubilant crowds celebrating a French medal. With 64 medals, a record for France at the Summer Games, there was no shortage of opportunities to toast.
I felt this pride in the streets of the capital, where tens of thousands of Parisians came to cheer on the French cyclists during the final kilometers of the road race. I saw it in the metro, where my neighbors were captivated by a fight by judoka Teddy Riner on their cell phones. I experienced it on the terraces of restaurants in Paris and Lille, where customers applauded the baskets of the French basketball players.
When Leon Marchand swam in the final, the whole city held its breath. Even in the fencing and tennis stadiums, a break was observed to allow spectators to follow the race from a distance.
“When we decide to be together, we are unstoppable, no matter the result of a match or no matter the sport,” said France men’s soccer team head coach Thierry Henry. “We needed it with what happened a little before the competition. When we know how to come together and unite, we are still pretty good. And we have a beautiful country.”
In the collective imagination, certain cities are often associated with a golden age: Vienna at the turn of the 20th centurye century, San Francisco in the 1960s, Barcelona in the 1990s. Until these Games, Paris seemed frozen in a time when Montmartre displayed its lilacs.
These Games have allowed it to break this cliché and show that it is a resolutely modern megacity.
No, its heart does not resemble those of the futuristic centers of Tokyo or Dubai, for a very simple reason: Paris no longer has a dozen vacant lots on which to build architectural marvels. To renew its image, it must reinvent its emblematic sites – something it did brilliantly during these Games.
Stadiums on iconic sites
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It took courage to deconstruct the opening ceremony by creating a 6 km urban course on the water, the riverbanks and the rooftops. It took vision to build temporary stadiums on the most mythical places in the city, rather than on the outskirts. I attended beach volleyball matches at the foot of the Eiffel Tower, wrestling on the Champ-de-Mars, taekwondo at the Grand Palais. An Olympic swimming pool was installed in the local equivalent of the Bell Centre, the Paris La Défense Arena. On one of the city’s main intersections, the Place de la Concorde, not one, not two, but four sports fields were installed.
Oh yes, we also presented five events in the Seine.
And everything went well.
These innovative ideas, attractive on paper, then had to pass the test of reality. It was thus necessary to succeed in transporting the holders of 9.5 million tickets – a record – to the stadiums. With no parking available in the stadiums of central Paris, everything relied on public transport, which proved impressive.
The addition of train and metro stations, particularly near the Stade de France, has helped relieve congestion on other lines and ensure smooth traffic flow. This will be one of the greatest legacies of the Games for Parisians.
Another expression of modernity: for the first time in the history of the Olympic Games, men and women had an equal number of athlete accreditations.
Finally, brotherhood.
At every Olympic Games, we hear the same speech. All together, in solidarity, hand in hand, for peace and against adversity. It’s a cliché. Sometimes even hypocritical, as we saw with the attitude of the Russians at the Beijing Games. But here, something happened – in the streets as well as in the stadiums.
Whether Parisians are left-wing, right-wing, born here, come from elsewhere, whether they are boomers, X, Y, XX, XY or Z, they have embraced these Games with enthusiasm. They have united around major events, such as the road race, or the opening ceremony, which brought together more than 300,000 spectators along the route.
Even in the midst of the most high-profile controversy of the Games – the genetic profiling of Algerian boxer Imane Khelif – her opponents have chosen solidarity over ostracism. The Italian opponent she defeated in the first round said she would “hug” her if she saw her again. On the podium Friday night, the silver and bronze medallists hugged her, before asking her to take a selfie with them.
These Games were not perfect. As with any event of this magnitude, there were hiccups and irritants. The opening ceremony was not a consensus. Nor was Imane Khelif’s presence in the boxing tournament. The scandal of Canada Soccer, which spied on opponents with a drone, tarnished our sporting image internationally. But there is one thing on which we can agree.
These Games brought a much-needed sweetness to the world.