"They don't integrate, we ignore": The Haredi community in the Alps and the return of summer tensions
A criminal investigation condemned by the French Interior Minister and a viral incident in Les Deux Alpes have resurfaced the latent tension in the Alps. Behind the idyllic landscapes lies a persistent friction over the arrival of thousands of Haredi vacationers: locals claim they struggle to bridge cultural gaps, while tourists point to a sense of alienation, as authorities try to maneuver between preserving local routine and hospitality.
For decades, the clear mountain air and spectacular landscapes of the French Alps have served as a safe summer refuge for tens of thousands of Haredi Jewish vacationers seeking to escape the heavy heat of European cities. Well-known resorts in the Isère department and the Écrins massif, including Les Deux Alpes and Alpe d'Huez, host thousands of observant families, organized kosher tourism groups, and long-standing events like the Chabad summer seminar every summer. This encounter, which began in the late 1960s to serve families arriving from North Africa, brings hundreds of guests to the quiet towns every week.
But beneath the picturesque images, a deep and persistent friction simmers between the residents and long-time vacationers and the Haredi visitors, one that resurfaces every summer. The heart of the tension lies in the sharp cultural gap and the way of staying in the public space, within small mountain towns accustomed to a light and open lifestyle. Long-time vacationers and local residents point to a sense of social disconnection and claim that the strict lifestyle of the communities leaves almost no contact with the environment.
"The Haredi Jewish tourists do not cooperate at all, they are not involved in anything, not in restaurants, not in pubs, not in activities. Well, except for activities for children, games, that's all," explains Danielle, 61, from the Camargue region, who visits Les Deux Alpes regularly. She insists that her frustration comes from the issue of social cohesion and not from prejudice: "They don't integrate. So we ignore them, we act as if they are not here." This social distance is largely dictated by the strict observance of commandments. Since the vacationers strictly adhere to kosher laws, they do not dine in local restaurants or alpine food stalls. Instead, they rely on private operators of kosher vacations, temporary stalls offering crepes and ice cream under kosher certification, or independent cooking.
The tension also spills over into residential complexes and hotels, where observing the Sabbath from Friday evening until Saturday night creates quite a few logistical complications. Property owners complain about the disconnection of code locks and electronic devices on entrance doors, or about leaving Sabbath hot plates on for a full day, which sometimes conflicts with fire safety regulations and local residential procedures. This quiet tension recently broke into the French public consciousness following a video that went viral on social media, in which a stall owner in Les Deux Alpes was documented telling a Haredi vacationer: "The Jewish community, there are too many of you. At some point, it gets on people's nerves." The incident drew sharp condemnation from the French Interior Minister and led to the opening of a criminal investigation that was transferred to the public prosecutor in the city of Grenoble.
Living in the mountains: between modesty and alienation
For Haredi families, the French Alps are a dream destination that offers a rare combination of breathtaking nature and the preservation of modesty values. "In the mountains of the Alps, we are far from the exposed bathers on the beaches, and the vacation here is more respectful of modesty, cleaner," explains Mendel, 40, from Paris. However, vacationers report that their prominent presence sometimes makes them an easy target for open criticism and a sense of alienation. "Every time, we are marked," says Hannah, a vacationer in her thirties, and says that members of the community, including small children wearing kippahs, often encounter offensive remarks when they walk down the street.
This dynamic puts mayors and tourism offices in a complex trap. On one hand, kosher tourism companies, including Niphla Events, which recently hosted 250 guests from around the world in Alpe d'Huez during August, bring with them significant purchasing power and rent entire hotels during periods when regular tourism weakens. On the other hand, some of these groups experience fluctuations: in Alpe d'Huez, for example, the volume of kosher tourism dropped from 20 percent of all customers in August 2019 to just one percent in recent years, mainly due to the upgrading of hotels which made exclusive rental too expensive.
Sébastien Mariniarg, director of the tourism office in Alpe d'Huez, notes that friction points sometimes arise around the use of urban infrastructure, such as requests for gender separation during swimming hours at the public pool or regarding the identity of lifeguards. "There is a need for adaptation, and sometimes these are simply points of contention," he explains. Authorities prefer not to change public procedures and urge the parties to find a model of mutual adaptation, but an elected official from one of the sites admitted in a closed conversation that this is a particularly charged issue: "It's a hot topic, it's hard to talk about it. One word out of place and it could deteriorate."
