In the middle of a heated French presidential campaign, politicians and their supporters inevitably will point the finger at the political and religious identity of the killer, questioning the place of Islam and Muslims in the country. Others will no doubt focus on the much publicised ''return'' of the four bodies to Israel for burial. One can already hear the unspoken question: were these murdered Jews not ''French enough'' to be buried where they lived?

Yet there is also potential for a real thrust of solidarity and social cohesion on the horizon, because beyond the shared tears the tragedy of Toulouse confronts France with the complex ''multiple identities'' notion that it has ignored for too long. Let us look again at the picture through that prism. If the news reports are correct, the presumed killer is a French national, a Muslim certainly, but a French citizen. His first victims, more then a week ago, were French paratroopers. Two of them were Muslims. All of them served in Afghanistan. His victims at the school were Jews, some carrying dual Israeli citizenship.

Facing the multiple nature of one's identity within the framework of a shared national citizenship has never been easy. Judaism, many centuries ago, used the image of the flames of candles to illustrate the difficulty of defining one's identity in a plural world, at the festival of Hanukkah. This was a time when not only did Jewish and Greek culture influence each other but also when Jews feared for their future amid constant anti-Semitism. For the rabbis, just as the flame needs the oxygen of the outside world to burn and to shine, so do we. This image was daring, as in fearful times the natural tendency is to retreat behind our own walls. Yet behind the barricades, the flames will soon lack the oxygen they need.

The image of the flame could, indeed, be used today by any nation where cultures and traditions often mingle in an atmosphere of fear and violence. Retreating behind the walls of a simple one-dimensional identity is nothing but a trap. The false sense of security it provides will only lead to a desperate lack of oxygen.

Jews and Muslims in France today are at a crossroads. If we all make what I can only believe would be the wrong choice, the tragedy of Toulouse and the hatred it represents will be the only winner. We must choose the fragile image of the flames over the secure image of community walls, which is nothing but an illusion.