FRANCE IS ON THE EDGE. BURNING cars, curfews, urban unrest. The suburbs started it and the cities followed suit, dragged into the inferno. Public gatherings were banned here in Paris at the weekend, but the wailing of the sirens of the emergency services did not cease. Two thousand police patrolled the streets.

French football is on the edge, too. Once the richest symbol of racial harmony — the France team was composed largely of the sons of immigrants, as they are now — it gave hope to the masses. Simplistic though it may sound, the trouncing of Brazil in the 1998 World Cup final united a nation in unbridled joy.

However, even the best grow old. And when the coach is as wacky as Raymond Domenech, when the players question his every move, the chances of replicating global domination recede by each month and each match. On Saturday night, a mostly drab goalless draw with Germany at the Stade de France, the scene of their greatest triumph seven years ago, only illustrated their predicament.

The magnificent stadium hovers like a flying saucer in Saint-Denis, a grim district north of Paris that perhaps houses some of the “scum” and “vermin” whom Nicolas Sarkozy, the French Interior Minister, ill-advisedly referred to at the outbreak of anarchy last month.

Before kick-off, all was quiet, apart from the noisy yet harmless Germany fans outside Restaurant Piu near Gare de la Plaine. A one-legged beggar plied his hazardous trade in between the cars at traffic lights, the glass-palace Switchotel glowed in the gloom and the home team’s supporters, of all creeds and colours, strolled contentedly down the equivalent of Wembley Way.

It had not been so serene the night before, when the friendly involving Tunisia and Democratic Republic of Congo at the Stade Charlety, south of the capital, was abandoned after 70 minutes when fans invaded the pitch and fighting broke out. Football, so often the refuge of the underprivileged, took a hit. Where is there left to go?

Jürgen Klinsmann, the Germany coach, might be asking himself the same question. For his country to have to host the World Cup finals next summer is enough as it is; to be burdened by past glories, as France are, racks up the pressure. He should have stayed at home in the United States. California dreamin’ seems a perfect alternative.

At least a feisty last half-hour, in which France also tested the patience of Steve Bennett, the Barclays Premiership referee, provided food for thought. “It was good for my young lads to come up against so many world-class players,” Klinsmann said. World-class players maybe, but no more a world-class team.

Back at la Gare du Nord, a ten-minute hop from the stadium, hoodies huddled in the shadows, waiting for the Eurostar to disgorge its unsuspecting passengers. It is a mostly soulless area, with sex shops and seedy bars lurking off the main drag. A nugget of a restaurant, boasting fresh lobster, oysters and elephantine prawns, shines like a beacon in a sea of filth.

At Le Quai des Artistes, where the spit may have been removed from the floor but there is faint evidence of sawdust, certainly dogends, black mixes with white, African with Asian. All inadvertently brought together to watch the match beneath the incongruous mosaic ceiling and giant chandelier, as the charming Chinese owner attends to their liquid needs.

Cultural differences do not appear to exist; not quite love thy neighbour, but an easy-to-extend tolerance. For 90 minutes. Even the nutty old Frenchman is only gently chided for jabbering away and interrupting the enjoyment of France’s late rally. Adding a surreal touch, the dulcet tones of Arsène Wenger, the Arsenal manager and part-time TF1 television summariser, filter out of the flat screen on the wall.

Game over, the café-bar empties. But where to France? The oppressed have rebelled, their grievances exploding. And where to French football? Domenech appears incapable of rousing his golden oldies for one last hurrah. Neither country nor football team are in good shape.

At 2am on the Rue de Dunkerque all was quiet and, bar the tramps, it was deserted. Even the villains have gone home. Yet in the distance, the sirens were still wailing.

France: G Coupet — L Thuram, J-A Boumsong, W Gallas, A Réveillère, V Dhorasoo (sub: A Diarra, 74min), C Makelele, F Malouda (sub: J Rothen, 69), D Trezeguet (sub: D Cissé, 69), T Henry (sub: N Anelka, 46), W Sagnol. Substitutes not used: M Landreau, F Jurietti, G Givet, S Wiltord, S Govou.

Booked: Henry, Makelele.

Germany: J Lehmann, A Friedrich, R Huth, M Jansen, A Mertesacker, M Ballack, B Schneider (sub: T Borowski, 74), S Deisler (sub: B Schweinsteiger, 46), T Frings, M Klose, L Podolski (sub: K Kuranyi, 82). Substitutes not used: T Hildebrand, P Owomoyela, L Sinkiewicz, F Ernst, O Neuville, T Hitzlsperger.

Booked: Deisler, Ballack, Friedrich.

Referee: S Bennett (England).