Your Paris correspondent was at the Stade de France (a.k.a. The Killing Fields) yesterday for what has now become the Irish rugby team's annual defeat in the French capital. Yes, we know it was a close-run thing (why did Eoin Reddan turn away from a gaping hole in the French defence with only minutes left and metres to the line? The French fans near us were incredulous) - but your blogger hates moral victories more than trouncings.
 
Even before the war, we had already lost an important battle. As the teams lined up, both anthems were sung a capella by a military choir. The setting emphasised again the weakness of 'Ireland's Call' (erroneously introduced by the stadium announcer as 'the Irish national anthem') - a song which completely fails to fill the role of an inspirational rallying cry. Of the Irish fans in the stadium, few sang the verses. Only the chorus seemed to inspire us to join in, albeit self-consciously, as if our mammy was kissing us goodbye outside the school gate while our mates were watching. What's more, nobody sang it during the game.  
 
By contrast, 'La Marseillaise' was as stirring as ever. As is their custom, French fans sang it on numerous occasions during the game - both to celebrate the good times and to encourage their team during the difficult passages. It worked; even as France's disastrous substitutions handed the initiative to Ireland, there was always a sense that les bleus would still do just enough to win.

'La Marseillaise' just happens to be a cracking tune, as evocative and quintessentially French as the songs of Edith Piaf. Unlike many anthems, it's instantly recognisable - we all know it from the opening bars of 'All You Need Is Love'. More recently, our fellow Irish rugby-loving Francophile Neil Hannon worked the same intro through 'The Frog Princess'. And the anthem of Springfield has exactly the same air, according to 'The Simpsons Movie'.

None of those international borrowings caused any serious offence in France - unlike versions by French-based artists. Django Reinhardt's sprightly jazz manouche reworking, which he called 'Echoes Of France' was tut-tutted by post-war Paris.

But that was nothing compared to the venomous reaction to Serge Gainsbourg's 1978 reggae version. Its title, 'Aux Armes Et Caetera', was initially interpreted as a provocatively disrespectful dig at the anthem's rousing call-to-arms: "Aux armes, citoyens!" But Gainsbourg, with the air of a card sharp playing a trick ace, brandished a Revolution-era document - apparently a manuscript of the original lyrics - which featured the line as "Aux armes, et caetera". This argument didn't sway a certain group of veteran paratroopers, who made death threats against Gainsbourg and stopped him from performing his version in public at a concert in Strasbourg - home of the song's composer, Claude Joseph Rouget de Lisle.

So why is it not called 'La Strasbourgoise'? Well, the song, written in 1792, was the anthem of a troop from Marseille who sang it as they marched up to Paris that summer, thus spreading it throughout France. It was adopted as the French national anthem on Bastille Day in 1795 and has remained so virtually ever since, although it was briefly banned during the Restoration.

Ironically, the anthem was originally written in honour of a German - to be precise, a French officer called Nicolas Luckner who was born in Bavaria. What's more, the luckless Luckner travelled to Paris in 1794, at the height of the Reign Of Terror, to resign from his post - and was promptly sent to the guillotine by Robespierre's beloved Revolutionary Tribunal. There's gratitude for you.

We hope that no Irish fans whistled or booed the French anthem yesterday; technically it's an offence to disrespect 'La Marseillaise', with a penalty of €7,500 and six months in the modern-day Bastille. This isn't some archaic law in a dusty tome, but a modern piece of legislation from 2003, introduced by none other than future President Nicolas Sarkozy (we believe that you in Ireland may be familiar with his work of late).

However, a subsequent ruling by France's constitutional council limits the law's application to official events and allows for an exemption in artistic or private circumstances.

So, there you go: no messin' with the 'Marseillaise'. Here's further proof - the famous anthem duel from 'Casablanca'. And to think we sent 'Ireland's Call' out to compete with THIS: