Emerging Classic
Sleek, outlandish and incredibly French, the C6 was one of Citroën’s trademark executive saloons. An exotic rarity, it is tipped for future classic status.
Sleek, outlandish and incredibly French, meet the ministerial Citroën C6.
In 2020, French president Emmanuel Macron was on an official visit to Poland. He was about to head away after meeting with his Polish counterpart when his armoured Renault refused to start. Rather unbelievably, there was no spare machine waiting in the wings to be deployed in such an eventuality. Fortunately the French ambassador to Poland was on hand. He lent the president his motor, and Macron was able to depart in a hugely stylish, good-looking and ineffably French conveyance.
The ambassador’s ride was a Citroën C6, and what could have been a highly embarrassing faux pas was transformed into a diplomatic triumph.
The C6 is a far better-looking, iconic and classically Gallic car than the decidedly quotidian Espace Macron was supposed to ride in. In fact, when it was launched in late 2005, the C6 swiftly became the favoured transport of France’s political élite. One reviewer described it as ‘ministerial,’ a word that sums it up perfectly.
Of course, executive cars that dare to be different are very much a Citroën speciality. The DS remains an absolute icon of French motoring history, and enjoyed a 20-year career between 1955 and 1975. 1970’s
SM coupé was an outrageous combination of Thunderbirds styling and a Maserati engine, and the CX made its competition look ordinary for 17 glorious years. In 1989 it was superseded by the XM, which surprised everyone by being a mediocre and uninspired automobile. A photographer colleague of mine once had one. Its combination of bland styling, horrible interior, asthmatic petrol engine and wobbly suspension made it a car I would go to extraordinary lengths to avoid driving.
The C6 arrived with a great deal of expectation to live up to. For one thing, part of its mission was to redeem the XM. For another, its launch date was six years after the 1999 Geneva Motor Show, where Citroën had drawn crowds with a simply astonishing four-door saloon concept – one that the new car was known to be based upon. That C6 Lignage Concept had been long and sinuous, its sleek profile uninterrupted by unnecessary decoration. It had acres of window glass, its door handles were skinny affairs set flush with the panels, and its lights were thin slashes set vertically at both ends. Even better, it dispensed with the clutter of B pillars. The doors were latched together, the rear pair being a rear-hinged, ‘suicide’ arrangement. Jaws dropped. Citroën had done it again, and the press went berserk.
When it finally glided into production, the C6 was very obviously based upon the Lignage Concept, but it was also discernibly less sensational. The sides were more cluttered, the suicide doors had gone, it had non-revolutionary door handles and lights and the cooling strakes cut into the nose were less distinct. But this was still a stunning car, and looked absolutely light years away from the BMW Five Series it was tilting at – which in E60 form was going through one of its blander stages at the time. Mercedes’ W211 E- Class was then quite a handsome machine, but it was very much a Stuttgart taxi, whereas the C6 – as Jeremy Clarkson pointed out – looked like ‘the kind of car an assassin would drive.’ It even had a little, automatic rear spoiler which rose at speed – likely unnecessary, but a fun James Bond touch.