Liberte-Egalite-Fraternite-en

This is not a Marianne
A satanic painting in the President's office?

On this page, we present our analysis of the painting Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité by American street artist Shepard Fairey (also known as Obey Giant). Many viewers discovered this piece, on October 15, 2017, in Emmanuel Macron’s office, behind the president of France, during his first major interview on French television since taking office.

Some shocked internet users claimed that they detected an occult symbol within this composition. Intrigued, we decided to examine in detail this particular sign and its origins. Then we analysed the painting in its entirety and finally reviewed other works by the same artist.

This article presents our findings and discusses the methodology for determining, as objectively as possible, whether the alleged occult aspect of the artwork is the result of deliberate intent by the artist or merely a coincidence. We think that our conclusions bring legitimacy to an uncomfortable question: has a satanic painting been brought inside the President’s office, in the Élysée Palace?

Emmanuel Macron and the painting

In the photo below, we can see Fairey’s artwork hanging on a wall in the “salon d’angle” of the Élysée Palace during the President’s interview with TV channels TF1 and LCI, in his office, five months after his election. The next photo was posted by Shepard Fairey on his Instagram account on May 10, 2017, a few days after Emmanuel Macron’s victory. It shows that the artwork was already present in the candidate’s campaign headquarters before his election. The third photo was posted by gallery owner Mehdi Ben Cheikh; it shows him with the artist and the President posing in front of the painting on June 22, 2019.

An article in daily newspaper Le Figaro explains that the painting was given by Fairey to candidate Macron during his campaign and that it is part of the President’s private collection. The artist clarified: “I did not create it for Emmanuel Macron; he simply decided that he wanted it.”

The Mobilier national, the French statutory corporation that administrates state furniture, explains that the office was entirely redecorated by Brigitte Macron so the presence of the artwork in this room may be attributed to the First Lady.

The two videos below show that the painting was visible on television again for two consecutive years when the President delivered his New Year’s greetings to the French, first for 2018 and then for 2019.

Emmanuel Macron’s New Year’s Wishes to the French for 2018

Emmanuel Macron’s New Year’s Wishes to the French for 2019

What internet users noticed

The detail that caught the attention of internet users is the star located at the level of the throat of the “Marianne” in the painting. They noticed that if this pentagram is rotated 180 degrees, it bears an eerie resemblance to an occult symbol: the sigil of Baphomet. That is the insignia of the Church of Satan (an American satanic organization founded in 1966 by Anton LaVey).

The following image shows the star on the painting (1) then rotated (2). For comparison, we show below the symbol of the Church of Satan (3) as well as the original drawing of the goat’s head inscribed within a pentagram (4) as it was first drawn in 1897 in the book of the French occultist Stanislas de Guaita, La Clef de la Magie Noire (The Key of Black Magic). De Guaita very likely based his drawing on the sabbatic goat of another occultist, Éliphas Levi, whom we will discuss further below.

An inappropriate signature

It would be easy to object that the star in the painting is actually the artist’s logo and that it was obviously placed there as a signature. However, such a mark seems inappropriate due to its very central position and its emphasis in the work: the floral pattern surrounding it and the converging lines of the two brushes draw the observer’s attention to this motif, whereas a signature is conventionally supposed to be discreet. Could this inappropriate aspect of the logo as a signature indicate that it actually serves another purpose? But before delving into this question, let’s start by assessing the validity of the internet users’ observation: does the star truly resemble the occult symbol?

The Pentagram: an intriguing resemblance

To attempt to objectively assess the degree of resemblance between the inverted star taken from the painting and the sigil of Baphomet, we simply list their factual similarities below. It can be assumed that the longer this list is, the greater the probability that the resemblance was intended by the artist.

Both designs feature a five-pointed star
In both cases, these are inverted pentagrams (the point facing down)
A head is inscribed within each pentagram: in one case, that of a man, in the other, that of a goat
In both drawings, the eyes are located in the same place, at the centre of the star
The bags under the man’s eyes form “v” shaped eyebrows on the inverted figure, similar to the lines visible above the goat’s eyes
The shadows extending from the man’s eyes to the tips of the star’s horizontal points have an identical outline to the goat’s ears in the other pentagram
The horizontal wrinkles on the man’s forehead present a pattern similar to that of the goat’s mouth and nostrils, located in the lower point of the pentagram
The triangle formed by the man’s black hair at the tip of the lower point is similar to the triangle described by the goat’s goatee
The two upward-pointing points of the pentagram are divided lengthwise (by the small triangles in the lower part of the man’s face and by the goat’s horns)
Both pentagrams are inscribed within a circle
In each drawing, the circles are doubled (concentric, one slightly smaller than the other)

To make a complete assessment of the resemblance between the inverted star in the painting and the sigil, it is necessary that we also study the elements that distinguish them. We counted three, which we present below.

The first difference lies around the contour of the man’s nose, which, with its thick line on Fairey’s star, has no equivalent pattern on the sigil. Additionally, it seems incongruous: it is difficult to imagine, at first glance, what it could represent on the goat’s head. However, this makes sense when we consider not the sigil itself but the drawing that it was likely inspired by: this inverted nasal appendage (1) takes on the characteristic shape of the torch that Éliphas Levi drew on the head of his sabbatic goat in his treatise Dogme et Rituel de la Haute Magie (Transcendental Magic: Its Doctrine and Ritual) (2): a slender stem that opens into three petals. Furthermore, this same torch appears on the logo of The Satanic Temple (3), an American satanic organization.

So, although this inverted nose does not establish a direct link with the sigil of Baphomet, it could nonetheless refer to the sabbatic goat, which itself is a representation of Baphomet (Baphomet is the name given by some 19th-century occultists to the mysterious idol that the Knights Templar were accused of worshipping).

Let’s now move on to the second element that distinguishes Fairey’s motif from the sigil of Baphomet. In the following image, note the radial lines connecting the two concentric circles on Fairey’s painting (1). These do not appear in Stanislas de Guaita’s drawing (2). However, occult symbols are sometimes inscribed within an ouroboros (a serpent eating its own tail), as seen in examples (3) and (4). We might therefore wonder if Fairey intended to represent an ouroboros.

Finally, note that the sigil of Baphomet features Hebrew letters at the tips of the pentagram’s points (spelling out the word “Leviathan”), which do not appear on Fairey’s star.

Note also that the iconography of the sigil of Baphomet shows that this symbol is sometimes associated with three “6” digits. The pendant (2) in the following image illustrates this. It clearly references the famous number of the Beast from the Apocalypse of John (Revelation 13:15-18). Is it then a coincidence that, on Fairey’s “ouroboros”, the rings within each of the sections defined between the points of the pentagram number exactly six (1)? Could Fairey have intended to allude to the number “666” by depicting series of six rings in his motif?

The genesis of Shepard Fairey's pentagram

After studying the similarities between Fairey’s inverted pentagram and the sigil of Baphomet, we will now focus on the process the artist followed to create his five-pointed star.

The following image shows how Shepard Fairey designed his star. The starting point is a professional wrestling poster (1) based on a photograph of André the Giant (real name André Roussimoff). According to 1000LOGOS.net, in 1989 Fairey, then a design student, created the sticker “André the Giant has a Posse” (2) from this poster. Much later, he made a stylized and symmetrical version of the face from his sticker and combined it with the command “OBEY” to create the logo for his clothing company, Obey Clothing (3), founded in 2001. He then created lithographs that are variations on his logo: example (4) shows the upper part of the head (which is not visible on the logo). The figure (5), found in several of Fairey’s works, shows the logo face combined with the lithograph and inscribed within a star. This version is the one featured in the painting, with the inverted image shown in (6).

Before continuing, let’s pause our analysis to introduce the concept of hidden drawings. The following image shows the same engraving viewed in two different orientations. On the left, one perceives a hussar, while in the inverted image on the right, one sees a horse. Note how difficult it is to perceive the horse in the image on the left (just as it is difficult to see the hussar in the image on the right). There are two reasons for this. The first is, of course, the unexpected orientation of the horse’s head: it is upside down and thus less recognizable. But a second trick makes detecting the horse even more challenging: the easily discernible features of the hussar immediately imprint on the observer’s consciousness, thereby obstructing the detection of the additional, less perceptible element (the horse).

This is how the engraver skilfully concealed the horse. This technique relies on a phenomenon called inattentional blindness, which refers to the failure to notice a fully visible stimulus. Although unexpected, this stimulus is perceived by the senses, yet it is not detected by the consciousness. Among the factors that contribute to inattentional blindness are sensory conspicuity and expectation. In the example of the hussar, on one hand, the sensory conspicuity of the horse is low (because it is depicted upside down) and on the other hand, the observer does not expect to see a horse (low expectation). The phenomenon of inattentional blindness is used in steganography, the art of conveying a hidden message (although it is visible) within another message.

Let us now return to the study of Fairey’s star. Could it be that the artist deliberately used steganography to conceal a representation of Baphomet? If this were the case, it would indeed be difficult to perceive the idol in the painting for three reasons: firstly, because it would be depicted upside down (low sensory conspicuity); secondly, because one would not expect to find it in such a painting (low anticipation); and thirdly, the face of André the Giant, right side up, immediately imprints itself on our consciousness and acts as a sort of distraction.

The difficult question now is about the method we should use to judge the artist’s intent. How can we determine whether he truly intended to conceal a representation of Baphomet in his painting, or if this resemblance to the idol is purely coincidental?

Inconsistencies, arbitrary choices, and absurd explanations

Notice that in the hussar/horse engraving, the depiction of the horse shows subtle signs that betray the presence of the hidden drawing. These lines, necessary for the integrity of the hussar motif, are small inconsistencies in the horse motif. For example, in the following image, there is an incongruous projection (1) on the horse’s face, between the eye line and the nasal region, which is actually the visor of the hussar’s hat in the other motif. Additionally, there is an inconvenient bump (2) on the animal’s forehead, normally flat, but necessary to form the nose of the man in the other image.

Similarly, anomalies in the drawing of André’s face that can only be justified by their contribution to the features of Baphomet could indicate that the artist indeed intended to represent the idol. The same applies to inconsistencies in the steps the artist claims led to this drawing.

Firstly, let us note the treatment of the wrestler’s forehead wrinkles by Fairey. On the original poster (1), these wrinkles are oblique (higher on the left side of the poster than on the right), with two distinct furrows in the centre, above the nose. On his sticker (2), Fairey arbitrarily chose to emphasize the upper furrow with a thick black line and soften the lower furrow. In the lithograph (3), the artist again altered these wrinkles: the upper furrow has become horizontal, and the lower furrow is now split into two. This modification helps define the horizontal mouth and the two distinct nostrils of the Baphomet in the inverted star. Was this the artist’s intention?

We can also question Fairey’s choice to accentuate the shadow, initially quite subtle on the poster above André’s mouth on the left (1), by darkening a triangular area on his sticker (2). This triangle, then symmetrically duplicated on the logo, helps outline the idol’s horns on the inverted star (4). Was this the artist’s goal from the beginning?

Similarly, the treatment of the dark circles under the wrestler’s eyes: first darkened on the sticker (2), then thickened in the lithograph (3), they eventually provide threatening eyebrows for the Baphomet (4). Was this deliberate?

One could argue that if the steps leading from the poster to the star were carried out solely to produce a representation of Baphomet, then the justifications and anecdotes told by the artist about the creation of these intermediate steps might be mere false explanations. Thus, justifications that appear artificial or incongruous could have been fabricated and might reveal the artist’s secret intention. This is what we propose to examine now. It is also worth noting that the very fact that the artist has made these anecdotes public could seem suspicious. Is he trying to create a diversion? Is he preparing an alibi?

Let’s start by noting the absurdity of the “André the Giant has a Posse” sticker. Firstly, the choice of the wrestler’s photo as the starting material for a stencil is surprising. The explanation given by the artist, as reported by Deodato Arte, involves a fortunate coincidence: while Fairey was teaching a friend how to make stencils, they supposedly came across a photograph of the poster in a newspaper. Fairey then suggested using it, but since his friend didn’t like it, he made the stencil and a few stickers on his own. It is up to each individual to consider the capacity of the poster’s content and aesthetics to inspire an artist. One can also question the appeal of the sticker created by Fairey.

The message on this sticker also seems absurd: “André the Giant has a Posse” can be translated as “André the Giant has a gang of friends.” Fairey explains that at the time, a group of his friends called themselves “The Posse,” and the term was popular in the hip-hop scene…

Even more absurd is the campaign in which the artist subsequently embarked: it consisted of placing his stickers in as many places as possible. 1000LOGOS.net explains that Fairey started alone, then got help from friends, so the stickers eventually became visible in many states across the United States and even abroad. How can we explain the artist’s insistence on displaying this image (which we find uninteresting, rather hideous, and with an obscure message) everywhere he could? Fairey’s explanation is that it was an experiment in phenomenology (in philosophy, phenomenology is the study of how things appear to our consciousness). This does not convince us. Furthermore, the stylized face of André Roussimoff created by Fairey seems grotesque to us, and the choice of this image as a logo for a clothing brand seems implausible. The lithographs (variations on the logo’s design) seem equally grotesque and unattractive, as does the image obtained by inscribing the face within a five-pointed star.

Of course, our judgments on the strangeness of the choice of the wrestling poster, the absurdity of the message “André the Giant has a Posse,” the excessiveness of the sticker campaign, and the grotesque nature of the graphics are personal and undeniably subjective, and everyone must establish their own opinion. Our argument is that inconsistencies in the narrative of the process that allegedly led to the creation of the final motif (the star) could indicate that this motif was, in fact, the intended outcome from the beginning, and that the anecdotes surrounding this genesis were merely subterfuges meant to conceal a desire to produce a pentagram that, when inverted, reveals the sigil of Baphomet. These anecdotes could thus serve as an alibi for the artist if he wished to deny any satanic connotation in his star (plausible deniability).

In our search for clues indicating the artist’s intention to produce a satanic symbol, we wondered if Shepard Fairey had addressed the theme of occultism in other projects. This is what we discuss below.

Fairey's collaboration with band Suicidal Tendencies

If it turns out that the artist has used satanic imagery in other projects, it seems to us that this would lend credibility to the hypothesis that his star motif is indeed linked to this theme. We found that, in 2013, Fairey produced a work that not only addresses occult imagery but depicts precisely a goat’s head inside a pentagram. He explains on his website that it was a collaboration with thrash band Suicidal Tendencies, where, to celebrate the 30th anniversary of their first album, he revisited Ric Clayton’s original drawing (on the left in the image below) to create his own version (on the right). It seems to us that Fairey’s logo placed at the centre of the sigil of Baphomet is a fairly convincing indication of the association of the motif with the idol.

The tribute to Ozzy Osbourne

We find this tweet from December 4, 2015, by the artist himself even more convincing. In it, he wishes a happy birthday to heavy metal singer Ozzy Osbourne, attaching an image where Osbourne is holding Fairey’s logo upside down (i.e. the sigil of Baphomet right side up)! In this context, the sigil is perfectly recognizable. Remember, Ozzy Osbourne’s nickname is “The Prince of Darkness.”

Does the painting contain other occult symbols?

Now let’s set Fairey’s logo aside and focus on the rest of the painting “Liberté, Equalité, Fraternité.” If we assume that the logo indeed has a satanic connotation, we can then ask whether the painting contains other occult symbols. Before searching for them, it should be noted that, just like the design of the star predates the artwork, many other elements were imported from a pre-existing lithograph by Fairey. This lithograph is “Make Art Not War,” which, according to the website obeygiant.com, was created during the Iraq War.

First, let’s observe the floral pattern surrounding the artist’s logo on the throat of “Marianne.” The following image shows an exploded view of the pattern, highlighting its structure: it is composed of three rows of six petals each. Should we interpret this as another reference to the number of the Beast from the Apocalypse? In the image, the painting has been flipped. Consequently, the logo reveals the sigil of Baphomet encircled by the three rows of six petals, thus potentially emphasizing a satanic symbolism.

Let’s now note that the woman in the painting is wearing flowers in her hair, which is not typical of the usual representation of Marianne. Of course, an artist is free to express their creativity as they see fit and is not bound by commonly accepted norms. However, we have seen earlier that unusual details can sometimes contain hidden messages. Upon closely examining the roses in the flipped painting, we notice that in the centre of three of them, the number “6” can be easily seen (see the arrows in the following image). Once again, we get the number “666.” And we start to wonder if the painting is actually intended to be viewed upside down for it to be interpreted correctly…

Fairey has adorned the radiant disc behind the head of “Marianne” with a crown of motifs that resemble vegetation. More specifically, there are seven palm-shaped motifs (colored yellow in the following image). We note that on the flipped painting, these palms can be perfectly linked with one of the symbols of the Order of Nine Angles, a British satanic cult. Is this merely a coincidence?

Let’s now focus on the words “Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité” as they are written on the painting. The chosen typeface seems particularly unattractive, harsh, and ill-suited to carry the national motto. The combination of black color, sharp angles, and thin, elongated letters evokes more the image of cold, sharp metal gratings than an unifying, sincere, solid, and benevolent ideal. The most stretched letters, on the sides of the painting, are so unattractive that one might wonder if their shape serves a hidden purpose. It is noted that the bottom of the words “Liberté” and “Egalité” and the top of the word “Fraternité” suggest a flattened circle, i.e., an ellipse. We then observe that “Marianne’s” head is haloed by a radiant disc and that the bottom of her face suggests a circular shape. If we complete this circle, it forms a pupil in the middle of an iris, which itself is at the centre of an eye.

Let’s now consider the two paintbrushes converging towards Fairey’s logo. Their presence is incongruous as it relates neither to Marianne nor to the motto of the French Republic. However, keeping in mind that the painting might reveal occult symbols when viewed upside down, let’s flip it to try to understand the meaning of these brushes. The inverted “V” that becomes apparent could then suggest the top of a pyramid or a compass. When combined with the eye we discussed earlier, it evokes the symbol of the Eye of Providence inscribed within a pyramid and sometimes topped with a compass (see the following image where we completed the portion of the brushes hidden by the star to suggest a compass). Note that the Eye of Providence and the compass, both elements of Masonic imagery, indirectly lead us back to Baphomet, as both the Templars and Freemasons have been repeatedly associated with this idol.

The sigils and magic

We have designated the insignia of the Church of Satan by the name of the Sigil of Baphomet, but we have not yet explained the very notion of a sigil. We will address this subject now and try to determine if we can establish a parallel with Fairey’s motif.

In esotericism, a sigil, or seal, is a graphic figure that represents a being or a magical intention. According to Wikipedia, magical sigils are “a symbolic representation of the practitioner’s desired outcome“. It is further said that the magician’s will is charged into the sigil and then becomes effective as a current of energy. Certain beliefs thus attribute power to sigils. We can then ask whether this notion of power is not the real meaning behind the seemingly absurd phrase “André the Giant has a posse” on Fairey’s sticker. Indeed, in his explanation, the artist linked the word “posse” to a gang, but it also has another meaning: according to etymonline.com, in medieval Latin, “posse” means “power.” The message on the sticker could therefore mean “André the Giant has a power” and could thus indicate the motif’s purpose, i.e., a potent magical symbol. This interpretation of the word “posse” is corroborated by the fact that, on Fairey’s drawing made in homage to the band Suicidal Tendencies (seen above), this word appears where the word “possessed” figured on Ric Clayton’s original image; in its demonic sense, “possess” means “to have total power over.” This notion of power fits well with the injunction “OBEY” in the Obey Clothing logo.

We are not well-versed in the workings of sigils, but we wonder if, in the beliefs associated with them, their effectiveness requires them to be seen by a large number of individuals. Indeed, the presence of the symbol behind the President of the Republic during his televised New Year’s greetings (broadcasts watched by millions of people) would satisfy this potential requirement. Similarly, the monumental version of the artwork that appeared in Paris in June 2016 in the form of a mural several dozen meters high on the façade of a building at 186 rue Nationale (and which, according to Boulevard Paris 13, earned the mayor of the 13th arrondissement, Jérôme Coumet, the 2016 Marianne d’Or de la Culture award) would also ensure a certain level of visibility.

The November 13, 2015 attacks

Shepard Fairey explained that he created this image (which he first published on his website) out of solidarity with Parisians and with humanity in general following the November 13, 2015 terrorist attacks in Paris, which left 130 dead and 413 injured.

One might, however, be surprised by the disconnect between the claimed subject and the artwork itself, which simply and neutrally depicts symbols of the French Republic (the “tricolore” flag, Marianne, the national motto) and makes no reference to the purported meaning (it does not suggest the dramatic events, the lives lost or disrupted, nor the locations or date of the tragedy). This composition could have been created in an entirely different context, as its appearance bears no relation to the atrocities. This is not surprising since, in reality, it was largely composed under other circumstances (the Iraq war). This revamped version of Make Art Not War, adorned with national symbols, is a republican banality that could have its place in any town hall in France on any occasion. The only reference to the attacks lies solely in the fact that Fairey declared it to exist.

Let us also note that the pretext of these attacks served another famous American artist to offer the city of Paris a monumental “gift” (measuring 12.62 meters high and weighing 60 tons, including the base), which is ugly, perfectly obscene, and once again, unrelated to the events. We are talking about Jeff Koons’ Bouquet of Tulips, inaugurated in the gardens of the Champs-Élysées on October 4, 2019, and which the philosopher Yves Michaud deconstructed in his book Ceci n’est pas une tulipe (a title echoed by the title of this page). See the following image and the section on criticisms on the Wikipedia page dedicated to this abomination for more explanations. In this context, one might wonder if Fairey’s mural is also a poisoned gift, a disguised insult, in fact, a masterful middle finger. We will now list the elements that support this view.

Summary list

Let us first recall the similarities between Fairey’s star and the Sigil of Baphomet:

Both designs feature a five-pointed star.
In both cases, the stars are inverted pentagrams (the point facing downwards).
A head is inscribed within each pentagram: one of a man and one of a goat.
The eyes are located in the same position, on either side of the star’s centre.
The bags under the man’s eyes form inverted ‘v’ shaped eyebrows similar to the lines visible above the goat’s eyes in the sigil.
The shadows extending from the man’s eyes to the tips of the star’s horizontal points have an identical outline to the goat’s ears.
The wrinkles on the man’s forehead present a pattern similar to the goat’s mouth and nostrils, located in the same point of the pentagram.
The triangle formed by the man’s black hair at the bottom point is similar to the triangle described by the goat’s goatee.
The two upward-oriented points of the pentagram are bisected lengthwise (by the small triangles on the lower part of the man’s face and by the goat’s horns).
Both pentagrams are inscribed within a circle.
In each drawing, the circles are doubled (concentric, one slightly smaller than the other).
The double circle with its radial lines around the star resembles the ouroboros that sometimes encircles the Sigil of Baphomet.
The inverted nose of the wrestler resembles the torch on the head of Éliphas Levi’s sabbatic goat.
The sections of the “ouroboros” delineated by the star’s points contain six rings, whereas the Sigil of Baphomet is sometimes associated with the number “666.”

Next, let us recall the anomalies, absurdities, and other arbitrary choices by the artist that could be explained by their contribution to the sigil motif:

The star is too prominently featured to merely serve as a signature.
Fairey altered the diagonal forehead wrinkles from the photo of André Roussimoff, thus creating a snout for the goat in the inverted drawing.
Fairey darkened a triangle above the giant’s mouth, thus contributing to the definition of the goat’s horns in the inverted drawing.
Fairey darkened and thickened the bags under the wrestler’s eyes, thus giving the goat menacing eyebrows.
The wrestling poster seems like an improbable choice as the starting point for an artistic endeavour.
The André the Giant has a posse sticker appears to lack aesthetic appeal.
The phrase “André the Giant has a posse” seems absurd.
The sticker campaign appears absurd and excessive.
The stylized face of André seems grotesque and unattractive.
The choice to use the stylized face of André as a logo seems improbable.
The lithographs created from André’s stylized face seem devoid of any artistic interest.
The choice to inscribe André’s stylized face within a star seems improbable.

Let us recall that Fairey, in another project (the homage to the band Suicidal Tendencies), clearly associated his star with the Sigil of Baphomet.
Let us also recall that Fairey produced a tribute to Ozzy Osbourne where his logo is depicted upside down and in a context that leaves no doubt about its interpretation as the Sigil of Baphomet.

Let us recall the potentially occult signs we have identified in the rest of the “Liberté Égalité Fraternité”:

The floral pattern around the star features three rows of six petals, which could evoke the number “666.”
Three of the roses have the number “9” in their centres, which corresponds to the number “6” in the inverted painting.
The palm fronds surrounding the central disc can be connected, in the inverted painting, by the symbol of a satanic cult (The Order of Nine Angles).
The letters of the words “Liberté Égalité Fraternité”, the radiating disc, and the face of “Marianne” define an eye that, with the angle formed by the brushes, resembles the Eye of Providence.

We have also addressed the esoteric beliefs related to sigils:

Recall the supposed magical power of sigils and the use of the word “posse” by Fairey (on his sticker), which can also mean “power.”
Recall how Fairey’s work has been exposed to a very large number of people, both through Emmanuel Macron’s televised New Year’s greetings and through the monumental mural in the 13th arrondissement of Paris. This intense exposure could potentially align with beliefs related to the functioning of sigils.
Recall the word “posse” in the tribute to the band Suicidal Tendencies, which replaces the word “possessed” from the original image. These words have the same origin and share the concept of power.

Finally, let us recall that the pretext invoked by Fairey to justify his work (the November 13, 2015 terrorist attacks) was also used by another famous American artist to present a poisoned gift to the city of Paris.

Conclusion

It is difficult to attribute an intention to an individual beyond all doubt. Abductive reasoning does not bring definite answers, and even if our suspiscions were correct, the author could always invoke plausible deniability and defend himself with outraged or even accusatory exclamations: “Oh no, not at all! You’re misunderstanding! And your assumptions are misplaced!” Our approach has been to list the objective similarities that may be intriguing, to note the anomalies that could raise suspicion, and to establish connections between the artwork discussed here and other pieces by the same artist. Does this list of observations, however lengthy and coherent, allow us to assert that we have uncovered a hidden layer of interpretation in the work—one that is not immediately visible but is nonetheless real? It is up to the readers to judge and form their own opinion.

Regardless of our perspective, and even though we cannot explain why Fairey might have introduced satanic imagery into his work, we can still explore the implications that the presence of such symbols would entail.

If we accepted the satanic connotation of the work, we would have to conclude that this composition is not truly a Marianne, or at least, it is not merely that, which ultimately amounts to the same thing. The woman and the symbols of the French Republic in the painting would constitute a deceitful façade, a Trojan horse concealing shocking messages within. This would speak negatively about the artist’s character. He would not be the first artist to use subterfuge to express obscenities or confront taboo subjects in public. For example, one might think of the giant inflatable sculpture “Tree” by Paul McCarthy, installed in Place Vendôme in Paris in October 2014, officially described as a Christmas tree but actually representing a sex toy. In another artistic field, one could mention the double-meaning, sexually charged songs “Les Sucettes” by Serge Gainsbourg (written for France Gall) and “Banana Split” by Jacques Duvall (written for Lio). However, the degree of duplicity involved in the trick Fairey might have played would far exceed that of a mere juvenile prank. Indeed, the artist would have lied when he claimed that he created “Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité” to express his solidarity with Parisians following the 2015 terrorist attacks. This would exhibit breathtaking and revolting cynicism, a brazen disregard for the victims and their families, as well as for morality and social norms. Moreover, he would have demonstrated boundless opportunism by exploiting the trauma caused by the tragic events to evade the vigilance of the recipients of his “gift,” impose it, and promote obscure personal interests. But would this severe (though hypothetical) criticism we have just expressed be too hasty? Could one argue that the hidden satanic symbols require a deeper interpretation of the composition, a third level of understanding: perhaps the painting is actually a subtle satire denouncing some sort of corruption within the French government? Personally, we find this possibility too convoluted to consider seriously.

Accepting the reality of the occult symbols in the artwork would also bring implications for the city of Paris: we would have to acknowledge that a gigantic fresco brazenly displays satanic signs for all to see from the top of a building, and that the mayor of the 13th arrondissement received the Marianne d’Or de la Culture 2016 for facilitating its installation.

There would also be implications for the French people, who would have to accept the idea that a satanic artwork sits in the very office of their head of state and concede that, on two occasions, they were compelled to look at it while their President delivered his New Year’s greetings.

Finally, questions would need to be asked about the President and his entourage. Who is fooled by the painting’s republican disguise, and who condones its hidden signs? Is Emmanuel Macron aware of the dubious imagery? Is Brigitte Macron, who according to the Mobilier national, entirely redecorated the office, responsible for the presence of the artwork there?

A complementary analysis: the dark velvet rug in the bureau d'angle

Our examination of the painting, prompted by observations from internet users, began with an analysis of Shepard Fairey’s logo. To verify the potential occult significance of this central element, we expanded our focus to include the entire painting and other works by the artist. This gradual approach aimed to uncover further evidence within a broader context that would support our initial findings. According to this logic, our analysis should naturally continue with an exploration of the rest of the office furniture. Imagine if we were to establish that more elements in Emmanuel Macron’s office contain occult symbols… Wouldn’t that add a new dimension to our analysis? We therefore invite you to read our page on the large velvet rug in the bureau d’angle. It may reveal even more shocking implications!

This is not a Marianne A satanic painting in the President's office?