Published in October 1916, this cover from La Baïonnette presents a stark “before and after” rendering of Kaiser Wilhelm II himself. Split cleanly down the center, the image shows the same imperial figure before the war and after its toll: on one side intact and authoritative, on the other hollowed, darkened, and visibly eroded by prolonged violence.
Signed by Gus Bofa, the image avoids battlefield spectacle in favor of moral indictment. Uniform, rank, and medals remain intact, but the face of command bears the cost of what it has unleashed. The symmetry turns caricature into accusation, suggesting that militarism ultimately consumes those who wield it.
Created at the height of the First World War, the cover reflects a broader current in French wartime satire that treated empire as self-corrosive rather than heroic. Power survives, but only as something depleted.
Published in October 1916, this cover from La Baïonnette presents a stark “before and after” rendering of Kaiser Wilhelm II himself. Split cleanly down the center, the image shows the same imperial figure before the war and after its toll: on one side intact and authoritative, on the other hollowed, darkened, and visibly eroded by prolonged violence.
Signed by Gus Bofa, the image avoids battlefield spectacle in favor of moral indictment. Uniform, rank, and medals remain intact, but the face of command bears the cost of what it has unleashed. The symmetry turns caricature into accusation, suggesting that militarism ultimately consumes those who wield it.
Created at the height of the First World War, the cover reflects a broader current in French wartime satire that treated empire as self-corrosive rather than heroic. Power survives, but only as something depleted.
