On July 10th, the French Senate witnessed more than a debate on public broadcasting reform. It became the stage for a sharp clash between two Frances: the entrenched elite and the children of immigration.
In response to what she perceived as a patronizing tone from Socialist senator Marie-Pierre de La Gontrie, Culture Minister Rachida Dati fired back with a stinging remark:
“I am not your servant. Perhaps my father worked for yours — but those days are over.”
The chamber fell into tense silence, quickly overtaken by a wave of political and media reactions. This was no longer about the future of France Télévisions — it was a powerful assertion of memory, identity, and pride, voiced by the daughter of a Moroccan immigrant who refuses to bow down.
Dati wasn’t just defending herself from perceived class contempt. She was exposing the structural hypocrisy of a Republic that claims equality while preserving invisible walls of exclusion and hierarchy.
Senator Laurence Rossignol described the comment as a “personal attack,” calling it a kind of “patronymic crime” — a striking indication of how names, heritage, and class lineage still carry weight in French political life.
In essence, what Dati declared was: “I belong here — and I owe my place to no one.”
And if that unsettles the heirs of old power structures, maybe it’s because true change is finally knocking at the gates.
