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produced the high-water mark of political ico-
nography in twentieth-century France, the pe-
riod from the Popular Front of 1936–8,
through the Vichy regime (1940–4) to the post-
war ‘tripartism’ of the victorious Resistance
coalition. Vichy’s corporatist experiment, en-
shrined in the motto ‘Travail, famille, patrie’
(Work, family, fatherland), was focused upon
the cult of the head of state, Marshal Philippe
Pétain, iconographically evoked in the military
képi, and the seven-starred marshal’s baton
which also constituted the shaft of the double-
headed francisque (decorative Gallic axe). With
its regionalist, culturalist and agriculturalist
dimensions, Petainism was a sustained attempt
to establish a coherent iconographical system
whose very coherence did not reflect, and was
doubtless designed in part to mask, its ideo-
logical and intellectual contradictions. The
mood of national reconstruction and recon-
ciliation, and the re-establishment of Republi-
canism which accompanied the Liberation,
were encapsulated in Paul Colin’s strikingly
‘Christian’ Marianne (1944), but this was es-
sentially a resurrection of prewar symbolism
and, like the coalition itself, likely to unravel
into its constituent political strands. A 1958
Colin poster combined the triadic arrows of
Socialism with a stylized (female) bowsprit;
Communism continued to give pride of place
to the hammer and sickle, but the Phrygian
bonnet also served (both featured on partisan
Resistance memorials) and, after 1961, so did
Picasso’s dove of peace. Gaullism, given its
origins, its organizing principles and the per-
sonality of its founder, scarcely lent itself to
the multiple variations of maréchaliste iconog-
raphy and, apart from the Cross of Lorraine,
it is rather a series of discreet photographic
images that represent de Gaulle’s achievement:
the garden and study at Colombey-les-deux-
églises, the Algiers prefecture in 1958, the tel-
evised appeals to the nation and, after defini-
tive retirement in 1969, the last elegiac photo-
graph of the general and Madame de Gaulle
on an Irish beach. The student revolution of
May 1968, which effectively ended his presi-
dential tenure, generated innumerable posters
and graffiti, some of which, replicated by car-
toonists such as Sennep, Jean Effel and Jacques
Faizant, became collectors’ items. 1968 also
reactualized certain iconic symbols, notably the
Phrygian-bonneted Marianne, since modelled
by vedettes such as Bardot and Deneuve. The
sexualization is not new; Marianne was always
a phantasy figure, who survives in more tradi-
tional mode on the postage stamps. But the
legacy of the events was literary as much as
iconographical, and the ‘Occident’ symbol of
the right-wing student group of that name pro-
vided a motif for textual variations by
Ricardou in Révolutions minuscules (Minus-
cule Revolutions) of 1971.
The tendency for iconography as an accu-
mulation of complex signifying practices to
return to its origins, for iconography to regress
to icon, to single images whose meaning is
transparent and not constructed (the replace-
ment of traditional Socialist symbols by the
red rose, a phenomenon typical also of the
British Labour Party), accelerated significantly
in the 1980s. This arose partly from greater
televisual mediation, and partly from the de-
cline of traditional party politics, and stable,
overarching, totalizing ideologies with the rise
of single-issue groups representing feminists,
sexual and ethnic minority rights, ecologists,
etc. Whether a ‘rainbow coalition’ will emerge
from ‘this division of the French into hetero-
geneous consumer groups’ (translated from
Fumaroli 1991) remains to be seen. Moreo-
ver, while the extreme right-wing amalgam of
Lepenism and Catholic intégrisme (pre-Vati-
can II fundamentalism) briefly juxtaposed im-
ages of the Sacred Heart, Joan of Arc and
Pétain, iconography traditionally associated
with the Left and Centre Left has increasingly
been experienced in a nostalgic or caricatural
mode: the Bicentenary reenacted 1789 as tour-
ist spectacle and heritage industry; a
Mitterrand campaign poster with its country
village and the candidate’s tricolour rosette
contained echoes of a previous ‘return to the
land’, which, in the light of subsequent revela-
tions about the late president’s wartime role,
could be deemed ironic as well as iconic. The
powerful marketing imperatives of the adver-
tising industry, the transient consecration of le
iconography