Anelka burger

French society is permeated by rules.

There are many rules. Most have exceptions or derogations. Many can be broken, often with seeming impunity. But some must never be sidestepped.

Drawing the line between rules that can be broken, and those that must be followed always, is an enduring source of confusion to me.

I was particularly confused by a dust-up in France’s World Cup fiasco, from which the French team was eliminated in the first round.

Hamburger as World Cup trophy

One player, Nicolas Anelka, by most accounts a gifted athlete (he plays with Chelsea) but also a hothead (at ease trash-talking back to coaches or team management), let loose in the locker room with some rough talk directed against Raymond Domenech, the French team’s manager. In short order, Anelka was relieved of further duties to the team, and sent home.

As reported, Anelka’s words sound to my ears much like dialog I’d expect in a Quentin Tarantino film.

But French ears seem to have heard something different. A line seems to have been crossed. Quick, a fast food chain, and Pringles, a potato chip brand of Procter & Gamble, pulled ads that featured Anelka.

I’m confused.

A few years ago, before he wed Carla Bruni, French president Sarkozy wound up in a spot that seemed much the same. The French president, frustrated by an unfriendly crowd, singled out one heckler and let loose with a comparable stream of nasty words. Everyone seemed to have agreed then that Sarkozy showed himself to be uncouth or unpolished; but this impetuous roughness around the edges was part of the conventional wisdom that everyone knew already. After a collective “tsk, tsk”, business went on as normal.

At the end of the last World Cup, in 2006, France competed against Italy. The match was tight, and tough. Towards the end of the game, French superstar Zinedine Zidane delivered a head butt to the chest of Italian superstar Marco Materazzi. Reportedly, Materazzi had provoked Zidane with taunting. In any case, Zidane was promptly sanctioned with a red card, and sent back to the locker room. Despite striking another player during a game –violating the game’s rules and sportsmanship– Zidane’s fortunes did not suffer. Then-president Chirac said he “understood” Zidane’s act, and the French public bore him no grudges. Zidane is, today, a pitchman much in view.

What, exactly, makes Anelka’s situation so different from Sarkozy’s or Zidane’s?