The death of French film icon Brigitte Bardot on 28 December, aged 91, has ignited a complex and contentious debate about her legacy. Celebrated as a symbol of sexual liberation in the 1950s and a passionate animal rights campaigner, her later life was dominated by a series of convictions for inciting racial hatred and the expression of virulently racist and homophobic views.
From global sex symbol to convicted racist
Bardot's passing prompted an initial wave of tributes, including from singer Chappell Roan, who credited the actor as an inspiration. However, Roan swiftly deleted her social media post, stating she was unaware of the "insane shit" Bardot stood for. This moment captured the modern dilemma of reconciling Bardot's iconic image with her toxic politics.
While her early career made her a global fantasy figure—even inspiring a bust of Marianne, the symbol of the French Republic—the elderly Bardot became a mouthpiece for the far right. She was convicted five times for incitement to racial hatred. Her public statements included describing Muslims in violently derogatory terms, calling gay people "fairground freaks," and denigrating the Tamil community on Réunion as "natives" with "savage genes." She also dismissed the #MeToo movement as "hypocritical and ridiculous."
Despite this, French President Emmanuel Macron eulogised her as a "legend of the century" who "embodied a life of freedom," a statement that underscores the deep divisions in how she is perceived.
A pioneer of female desire and a victim of paparazzi
Film scholars argue that Bardot's cultural impact in the 1950s was genuinely revolutionary. Professor Ginette Vincendeau of King's College London notes that in the deeply conservative post-war France, where women had only just gained the vote, Bardot's role in And God Created Woman (1956) was explosive.
"The unique aspect of Bardot," Vincendeau says, "is that she was also a woman who expressed her own desire. She was not just reacting." She became a fantasy figure for women as much as for men, representing a dream of sexual emancipation at a time when contraception and abortion were largely inaccessible.
This fame came at a severe personal cost. Bardot was one of the first targets of the modern paparazzi, suffering intense harassment. In 1960, she was forced to give birth at home while photographers besieged her house, following a pregnancy she did not want but could not legally terminate. Experts suggest this trauma contributed to her later reclusive misanthropy after retiring from acting in 1973.
The impossible reckoning with a contradictory life
In France, obituaries have been clear-eyed. Le Monde stated she "embodied racial hatred," while Libération argued her animal advocacy "gradually shifted towards an identity-based discourse" intertwined with racism. For over three decades, she was married to Bernard d'Ormale, a senior adviser to Jean-Marie Le Pen's National Front party.
Dr Sarah Leahy of Newcastle University observes that Bardot was a "provocateur" who enjoyed controversy, but her Islamophobia was sincere. She notes a shift in how modern students, aware of her politics, now engage with her films.
Bardot's long life created a stark paradox. Unlike contemporaries like Marilyn Monroe, who died young, Bardot lived to see her image curdle. She remains a figure of cinematic history, a compassionate voice for animals, and a purveyor of hate. As Leahy concludes, interrogating such a myth exposes the impossibility of a single, coherent meaning from a life of such profound contradiction.
