A British historian's decades-old biography of Charles de Gaulle has become an unlikely mirror held up to contemporary France, as a two-part cinematic adaptation drew nearly six million viewers hungry not merely for history but for the feeling that politics can still mean something. Julian Jackson, a professor at Queen Mary University of London, found himself astonished to discover that despite de Gaulle's constant invocation in French public life, most citizens had forgotten — or never known — the wartime general who defied Nazi collaboration and rallied a nation from exile. The film's extrao
British historian Jackson reveals how de Gaulle biopic exposed French historical blind spots
People found it reassuring to latch onto someone who made politics feel magical again
Mark
So a British historian's book becomes a French blockbuster film. That's unusual. What made Jackson's biography special enough to adapt?
Mimi
It was the definitive modern account—published in 2002, translated to French in 2019. By then it had credibility and reach. Baudry, the filmmaker, saw in it a complete story of de Gaulle that French audiences didn't actually know.
Luke
But we should be careful here. Jackson says people don't know de Gaulle's wartime story. Is that based on surveys, or is it his impression after the film came out?
Mimi
It's his impression. He was surprised by the response, by what people seemed to be learning for the first time. That's anecdotal, but it's what he observed.
Mark
And the film sold nearly six million tickets. In a country of what, 67 million? That's substantial.
Mimi
It is. And Jackson thinks it's not just about history. He sees it as people seeking reassurance in a figure who made politics feel meaningful, at a moment when they're deeply disillusioned.
Luke
That's a psychological reading. Is there evidence for that, or is Jackson interpreting the success through his own lens?
Mimi
He's interpreting it. He's offering a theory about why people came. The ticket sales are fact; the reason is his analysis.
Mark
He also warns against seeing modern France as a replay of the 1930s. Why does he resist that comparison?
Mimi
Because the details are different. Yes, there's economic anxiety and nationalism rising. But he doesn't see militarized fascist movements. He sees something dangerous, but distinct.
Luke
And on Le Pen—he calls her party racist, says it's a threat, but then says it's not a threat to democracy itself. That's a careful distinction.
Mimi
It is. He's saying the danger is real but bounded. Elections would still happen. That's different from fascism.
Mark
So what does the de Gaulle film's success actually tell us about France now?
Mimi
That people are hungry for historical figures who seemed to offer clarity and purpose. And that they've lost touch with their own recent past.
Le Pouls
- Nearly six million French cinema tickets sold for a historical biopic signals something beyond entertainment — it points to a public starved of political meaning in a moment of deep institutional disenchantment.
- The film exposed a startling gap: de Gaulle is everywhere in French political rhetoric, claimed by Macron, conservatives, and the far right alike, yet most citizens know almost nothing of his wartime resistance to Nazi collaboration.
- Jackson, who expected French audiences to be well-versed in de Gaulle's story, was genuinely shaken to realise the wartime leader had been largely forgotten — replaced in collective memory by the statesman of the 1960s alone.
- France is convulsed by student protests, a collapsing presidential approval rating, and a far-right party that polls suggest could win the next election — making the search for historical parallels urgent, if also treacherous.
- Jackson resists the darkest comparisons, insisting the current crisis is real but distinct: 'We've got something very dangerous,' he says of the far right, while firmly refusing to equate it with fascism or the threat of democracy's end.
A British historian's decades-old biography of Charles de Gaulle has become an unlikely mirror held up to contemporary France, as a two-part cinematic adaptation drew nearly six million viewers hungry not merely for history but for the feeling that politics can still mean something. Julian Jackson, a professor at Queen Mary University of London, found himself astonished to discover that despite de Gaulle's constant invocation in French public life, most citizens had forgotten — or never known — the wartime general who defied Nazi collaboration and rallied a nation from exile. The film's extraordinary reception speaks less to nostalgia than to a deeper disquiet: a democracy searching its own past for proof that leadership, courage, and political imagination were once real.
Julian Jackson did not intend to shape a French cultural moment. His 2002 biography of Charles de Gaulle, translated into French in 2019, caught the eye of filmmaker and former diplomat Antonin Baudry, who wanted to bring the wartime leader to the screen. Jackson agreed to advise on the script, and the resulting two-part film premiered in May 2026. Nearly six million tickets later, he is still absorbing what happened.
What moves him most is not the numbers but what they reveal. "There's a kind of disenchantment with politics," he told reporters, "and I think people found it reassuring to latch onto someone who made politics feel magical again." De Gaulle, dead for over half a century, is constantly invoked in French public life — by Macron, by conservatives, by the far right. Yet the films uncovered something Jackson had not anticipated: most French citizens know surprisingly little about him. They remember the statesman of the 1960s, the architect of the Fifth Republic. What they had largely forgotten was the wartime general — the man who refused the Nazi armistice in 1940, fled to London, and built the Free France movement from exile. "That really surprised me," Jackson admitted.
The film's success arrives against a turbulent backdrop. France is shaken by student protests, a president with collapsed approval ratings, and a far-right party that polls suggest could win the next election. The temptation to reach for historical parallels is understandable, but Jackson is wary. "We're living through a universal crisis of liberal democracy," he said, "and I'm a bit suspicious of these historical parallels because the detail is so different." He acknowledges the echoes of the 1930s — economic anxiety, the search for scapegoats, rising nationalism — but stops short of calling it fascism. Of Marine Le Pen's party he says plainly: "It's a racist party." Yet he draws a firm line. "I don't think she's a threat to democracy. If she wins, I don't think there will never be another election. That is important. That is not Hitler."
What the de Gaulle films have ultimately offered France is something more elusive than a political roadmap. They have recovered a story the country had half-forgotten, and in doing so revealed how urgently it may be searching for proof that politics can still be worthy of belief.
Julian Jackson, a British historian now in his seventies, did not set out to create a French cinema phenomenon. But his 2002 biography of Charles de Gaulle—a sweeping, authoritative account titled "A Certain Idea of France"—became exactly that when it was translated into French in 2019 and caught the attention of filmmaker Antonin Baudry, a former diplomat who wanted to bring the wartime leader to the screen. Jackson agreed to advise on the adaptation, helping shape the script for a two-part film that premiered in May of this year. The result has astonished even him: nearly six million tickets sold, making it the French cinema sensation of 2026.
What strikes Jackson most about the film's success is not simply that audiences came. It is what their hunger reveals about France right now. "There's a kind of disenchantment with politics," he told reporters, "and I think people found it reassuring to latch onto someone who made politics feel magical again." De Gaulle, dead for 56 years, remains a towering figure in French public imagination—invoked by President Emmanuel Macron, by conservatives, even by far-right politicians eager to claim his legacy. Yet the films exposed something unexpected: many French citizens, despite de Gaulle's constant presence in their political discourse, actually know very little about him.
Jackson had assumed the opposite. "I thought everyone in France knew de Gaulle's story pretty well because he's so present in people's minds," he said. "But after the film came out, I realised just how little the French actually know about de Gaulle. That really surprised me." What people remember, he explained, is the de Gaulle of the 1960s—the statesman who returned to power in 1958 to resolve the crisis over French Algeria and the threat of military coup, who then designed the Fifth Republic's constitution and governed as a visionary. What they have largely forgotten, or never learned, is the wartime de Gaulle: the general who refused the Nazi armistice in 1940, fled to London to lead the Free France movement, negotiated with Churchill and Roosevelt while building support in the colonies and the Resistance. That fuller story, it turns out, was waiting to be rediscovered.
Jackson, a professor at Queen Mary University of London, sees in the film's reception something beyond nostalgia. France is convulsed by student protests, nationalism is rising, and the president's approval ratings have collapsed. It is natural to search history for parallels, to find in the past some map for the present. But Jackson resists easy comparisons. "We're living through a universal crisis of liberal democracy, which is not just French," he said. "So I'm a bit suspicious of these historical parallels because, except at the most absolutely banal level that there's some sort of crisis going on, the detail is so different."
The most obvious historical echo is the 1930s—economic collapse, mass unemployment, the hunt for scapegoats, the rise of fascism. Yet Jackson does not believe that is what France faces now. "I'm not sure it's fascism we're faced with today. There are no militarised movements like fascism that I can see, but we've got something very dangerous." He is referring, in part, to Marine Le Pen, the far-right anti-immigration leader whose party polls suggest would win a presidential election if held today. Jackson calls it "a racist party," one built on exclusion and narrow nationalism. But he stops short of the darkest historical comparison. "I don't think she's a threat to democracy. If she wins, I don't think there will never be another election. That is important. That is not Hitler."
What the de Gaulle films have done, then, is more subtle than offering a roadmap for crisis. They have reminded France of a leader who once seemed to embody political possibility itself—and in doing so, they have exposed both how much the country has forgotten and how desperately it may be searching for something to believe in again.
Citations marquantes
I thought everyone in France knew de Gaulle's story pretty well because he's so present in people's minds. But after the film came out, I realised just how little the French actually know about de Gaulle.— Julian Jackson, historian
There's a kind of disenchantment with politics in France right now, and I think people found it reassuring to latch onto someone who made politics feel magical again.— Julian Jackson
Envie de l'histoire complète ?
Lire l'original sur Yahoo ↗
Culture & Arts