France Holding Its Collective Breath As Nation Struggles With Pollution

The image of Paris as one of the world’s most livable cities was unceremoniously sullied on a sultry July day in 1994, when the authorities reported that the air - at the Eiffel Tower, no less - was so polluted by ozone that it was dangerous to breathe.

The resulting pollution alert, the first in the capital’s history, sent winds of shock and denial throughout France. But the extent of the problem became breathtakingly obvious last summer, when high ozone levels triggered 16 pollution alerts in metropolitan Paris.

And then, on an unseasonably warm day last October, the level of another pollutant, nitrogen dioxide, soared to a new record that would easily cause a second-stage smog alert in Southern California.

Since then, French politicians have been hyperventilating, trapped between the nation’s politically powerful car makers and ordinary citizens who say that government officials have ignored dirty air and damaged the image of their most beloved cities.

Last week, Corinne Lepage, the environment minister, proposed a 35-point law aimed at tackling the problem. It orders improved air quality surveillance in large cities but offers little for pollution prevention, calling only for more studies. And it leaves the politically charged question of whether to limit traffic on bad-air days up to each city.

Environmentalists have howled their displeasure. After seeing Lepage’s proposed law, the Green Party accused her of deception and declared that the “industrial lobbies have won.” It added: “A real law on the air is indispensable and urgent.”

The French have had great difficulty coming to terms with their newfound pollution problem. Only a few cities undertake even a basic analysis of pollution, and those results are rarely available until the next day.

Strasbourg, in eastern France, is the only city that has adopted stiff anti-pollution laws. When ozone reaches unhealthy levels, officials there order more buses into action. And when it reaches hazardous levels, as officials say it will soon, the city plans to ban traffic from the city center.

By contrast, in France’s second-largest city, Lyon, the air reached extremely hazardous levels one day last summer - and not a word of warning was issued to residents.

More typical is Paris, a city of 2 million people whose metropolitan reach is home to 6 million. Although daily newspapers now carry reports of the previous day’s pollution levels, there are no forecasts. During peak alerts, the city offers only lame warnings to those at highest risk. Paris officials explain that they don’t want to alarm residents.

But residents already are alarmed. In a recent study, the National Society of Public Health said heart problems exacerbated by air pollution account for up to 50 premature deaths a year in Lyon and 350 in the Paris region.

Experts agree that the problem is traffic. The French are car addicts, and they jealously guard what they call “la liberte de circuler,” the freedom to drive.

Although sales of lead-free gasoline have risen sharply in the past five years, diesel fuel still accounts for nearly half of all sales at the pump. And car makers have blocked measures to discourage diesel-engine cars, which one newspaper called “engines of the devil.”

Opinion polls indicate that an overwhelming majority of the French believe that air pollution levels are dangerously high. But the concept of sacrifice for the common good doesn’t enjoy much support in France, where many distrust the government.

That is why Lepage, in introducing her anti-pollution law, appealed instead to a feeling more dear to the French - their heritage.

“The air is a part of our human patrimony,” she said. “Each of us has the right to breathe air that isn’t a threat to our health.”