PARIS — Mohamed Amghar was a 40-year-old software salesman in the final stages of interviewing for a new job in November 1996 when, in his telling, his future boss made a request that left him speechless.
You’ll have to change your name to “Antoine,” the man said, even specifying, according to Amghar, not to use “Philippe” because there were already two in the office.
Amghar felt he had no choice. Still, he was ashamed — and angry.
“It’s a betrayal,” said Amghar, born in Paris to Algerian parents who arrived in 1946, when Algeria was still part of France. “You are made to understand, at 40 years old, that ‘No, Mohamed, you aren’t truly French like everyone else.’ ”
And so, Mohamed became Antoine — on his e-mail address, on his business card, on train and plane tickets, on name tags used at industry conferences, even on performance awards he collected over two decades at the company, Intergraph, an American software firm with French offices in Rungis, south of Paris.
Amghar, now 63 and retired, sued the company last year in a labor court in Créteil, south of Paris, accusing it of discrimination and moral harassment and asking for more than 440,000 euros, or nearly $500,000, in damages. The court held a hearing in March but won’t rule until next year.
The case has stood out because few racial discrimination suits reach French courts. And it resonates powerfully as France reckons with its colonial past, racism in the police, and attitudes toward racial discrimination more generally in the aftermath of George Floyd’s killing in Minneapolis.
Jacques Toubon, France’s human rights ombudsman, noted this month in a landmark report that studies and statistics were unequivocal on the extent and “systemic nature” of discrimination in France.
“People of a foreign origin or who are perceived as such are more exposed to unemployment, social insecurity, bad housing conditions and poorer health,” he wrote.
At the time Amghar says his boss requested that he use a different name, he had been assured of the position but had not yet signed a contract, and he had already quit his old job. He was divorced with three children — the oldest was 13 at the time.
“And I was not stupid,” Amghar said in an interview at his lawyer’s office in Paris. “I knew that being called Mohamed wasn’t the best passport, not only to get interviews but also a job.”
Amghar says that, relatively speaking, he was fortunate even to get the job given France’s record of discrimination. The sales manager position involved selling engineering software to energy or chemical companies like Total or Arkema and was well paid.
He also acknowledges that he never filed an official complaint over his time at Intergraph, from 1997 to 2017.
“I thought to myself: ‘You didn’t say anything in the beginning, what are you going to say now?’ ” he said.
Intergraph, based in Alabama and bought in 2010 by Hexagon AB, a Swedish firm, did not deny that Amghar used a different name at the office, but said it had found no proof that management had requested the change.
Hexagon’s PPM division, which includes Intergraph, said in an e-mail that after receiving Amghar’s complaint in 2018, it had conducted an “internal investigation” that involved reviewing documents and speaking with current or former employees.
But the company said it had “found no evidence of discrimination or that Intergraph France management required Mr. Amghar to change his name, or otherwise required Mr. Amghar to use the name of ‘Antoine’ when representing the company.”
A lawyer representing the company in France declined to comment. But in 2018, responding to a letter from Amghar’s lawyer that threatened to file a suit barring “amicable reparation,” the firm called the accusations of discrimination “surprising” because Amghar had been “recruited by Intergraph and stayed there for 20 years.”
In the letter, a copy of which was seen by The New York Times, the company said that Amghar’s former boss — who no longer works at Intergraph — did not remember asking him to change names, adding that “one cannot exclude the possibility” that Amghar himself had chosen “Antoine.”
Amghar, who is meticulously organized, has kept business cards, pay stubs, e-mails, contracts, security clearance documents, awards, and more, all featuring the name “Antoine.”
And while there is no record of the November 1996 interview, Amghar bristles at the suggestion that he would have intentionally put himself in the awkward position of using two different names.
He was once stopped at an airport because his passport didn’t match tickets booked by the company. In meetings or e-mails, senior managers sometimes used Antoine while colleagues used Mohamed. On pay slips, he was “Mohamed Antoine.” One award from 2010 even used “Antoine (Mohamed) Amghar.”
Amghar’s closest colleagues quickly learned the truth. But others said they were stunned to discover, months or even years after first meeting him, that Antoine was, in fact, Mohamed.
Amghar is cheerful and quick to joke, but some of his sarcasm hints at deep resentment. For his managers, a man of Arab origin in his position was “inconceivable,” he said.
“Mohamed can’t sign a 12 million euro contract and chat with the CEO of a company,” Amghar said in mock outrage. “It’s not possible!”
Frédéric Blas, a former colleague who was an in-house lawyer at Intergraph France from 2011 to 2016, said Amghar “felt humiliated. There was a real bitterness, a frustration.”
There were no explicit instructions from senior managers to use the name Antoine, Blas said, but that was the name heard and used by those who didn’t work very closely with Amghar. It was “unsettling,” Blas added, and sometimes difficult for him not to use Antoine by force of habit.
Amghar said it was important for him to file the suit. He recalled his father’s account of racism suffered in Algeria and then in France as a carpentry worker, and he remembered his parents’ faith that French meritocracy would give their children a different experience.
“If people like me, who did what was necessary to get good jobs, to get training, to live as citizens, are besmirched and denied our rights, where are we going?” Amghar said.
“I only have one name, I only have one nationality,” he added. “My name is Mohamed, and I am French.”