ENVIRONMENT : Pollution Law Won’t Help French Breathe Easier : As Paris battles soaring smog, proposed bill balancing interests of car makers and citizens who want clean air is seen as ineffectual.

The image of Paris as one of the world’s most livable cities was unceremoniously sullied on a sultry July day in 1994, when 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 in October, the level of another pollutant, nitrogen dioxide, soared to a new record that would easily cause a second-stage smog alert in the Southland.

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.

This 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 with a metropolitan area of 6 million. Although daily newspapers now carry reports of the previous day’s pollution levels, there are only minimal 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.

But while sales of lead-free gasoline have risen sharply in recent years, diesel fuel still accounts for nearly half of all sales at the pump. And car makers have successfully blocked measures to discourage diesel-engine cars.

Unlike in Germany, where environmental groups last year won strict anti-pollution measures, environmentalists here are not particularly powerful. But they have been vocal, protesting government policies that encourage automobile use.

Jean-Francois Blet, a Paris councilor from the Green Party, recently warned that air pollution “is a ticking time bomb.” And environmentalists in Paris have formed a defense committee “for victims of the air,” which says it will sue the city to force it to reduce auto traffic during periods of peak pollution.

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 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.”

Supporters of stronger measures have even tried to shame the French public into action, pointing to the more advanced battle against pollution in the United States.

The Paris daily Liberation recently marveled that The Los Angeles Times prints daily pollution forecasts “even when there is no risk to the population.”