French footballers of African descent are not any less French than their white counterparts, and they should not need to disown their African heritage to prove that, writes Diallo [Reuters]

"Africa won the World Cup!"

Last month, that simple sentence, uttered by The Daily Show host Trevor Noah on his popular satirical news programme, caused much anger, frustration and debate.

The South African comedian was of course referring to the French National Team's victory at the 2018 FIFA World Cup in Russia. Almost all of the players in the team were born in France - two arrived in the country as toddlers. Also, out of 23 players, 12 were of African descent.

When Noah expressed his delight in seeing "Africa" win the coveted trophy, he probably did not expect to find himself in the middle of a heated debate about French identity.

In France, however, many commentators were indignant to see "Les Bleus" qualified as "Africans". As the debate continued, even some of the players themselves joined in. For example, the team's defender Benjamin Mendy responded to a tweet by the Sporf website which had indicated where each player's family originated from with his own tweet containing the names of the France squad with a France flag next to each. This reaction was understandable in a country where non-white citizens are often reduced to their ancestry and treated as if they are not as French as their white compatriots.

But did Noah really make a faux pas, or did he just expose a major problem about the way the French national identity is defined?

Being both French and African

Noah was not the first person to comment on the African heritage of some members of the French team. Since their landmark victory against Croatia on July 15 there had been many comments, jokes and statements on the racial makeup of the team, many of which were blatantly racist.

What put Noah's well-meaning comment celebrating the African ancestry of some of the team's members under the spotlight was an official letter written to the comedian by the French Ambassador to the United States, Gerard Araud.

In the letter, the diplomat berated Noah for defining the team as "African".

"Unlike the United States of America, France does not refer to its citizens based on their race, religion or origin," the ambassador said. "To us, there is no hyphenated identity. Roots are an individual reality. By calling them an African team, it seems you are denying their Frenchness."

In response, Noah asked "Why cannot they be both [French and African]?"

For me, Noah's response exposed the pitfalls of the assimilationist philosophy which characterises the French approach to immigration and identity.

By asserting that France does not accept hyphenated-identities - which make it possible for American citizens to acknowledge their ancestral origin without giving up their 'Americanness' - Ambassador Araud denied the existence of a large part of his country's population.