Les Bleus became a vehicle for bringing people together, in a grief that spanned traditional boundaries in those distressing days that followed the Paris attacks.

To see English fans singing the French national anthem – or attempting to sing it – at Wembley during a genuine "friendly" between the ancient foes was to experience one of those infrequent moments when sport soars into a rarified realm.

The teary French players applauded the English fans. One of the French team, a Muslim of African descent, Lassana Diarra, had his cousin killed in the attacks. Another player, Antoine Griezmann, had a sister narrowly evade the same fate at the Bataclan concert in which so many were butchered.

Les Bleus, of course, had been playing Germany at the Stade de France on Friday the 13th when three bombs detonated outside the stadium, one of them after a suicide bomber was stopped by security from entering.

From an Australian perspective, this bonding between sporting combatants, united in grief, brought to mind the raw aftermath of the death of Phil Walsh, in which competing teams locked arms and the West Coast fans laid down their parochial passion and gave the Crows a standing ovation.

In 2016, the French soccer team will be the host nation at the European Championships, where they'll be at the centre of extreme security measures commensurate with the extremist threat. If Hollywood – or even a Gallic movie featuring Vincent Cassell – was devising a plot, les Bleus would not only triumph at "Euro" but they'd be at the vanguard of a reconciliation between Muslim and traditional France, or at least some progress.

South African sport had an actual Hollywood moment, in which a national team offered a salve for some longstanding wounds at the 1995 rugby World Cup. The lillywhite Springboks, who had just been admitted back in to rugby post-apartheid, were adopted by Nelson Mandela, who persuaded a fair proportion of black South Africa – which had understandably never supported the Springboks – to get on board. The Springboks, as the host team, duly delivered the uplifting denouement by winning the tournament.

The 1995 Springbok story was glorified in the Clint Eastwood movie Invictus featuring Morgan Freeman and Matt Damon, who played Springbok skipper Francois Pienaar.

Les Bleus have been a political football over the years, due to their high percentage of immigrant players from the former colonies, both the Arabic in North Africa and the black Africans from further south. In 1998, when Zenedine Zidane was the team's premier player, they were the victorious host country (the last host to win the World Cup) and were seen as the sunny face of a new multicultural France. The famed slogan for '98 was "blanc, black, beur" or "white, black and North African-Arab".

If the team has remained a multi-culti mix, with a hefty Muslim presence, this face of modern France has not always been a smiling one. Despite the optimism of '98 – symbolised by Zidane's Algerian Muslim background – les Bleus have also been the subject of tribal tensions.

Muslims have been criticised for not supporting the French team as keenly as mainstream France. Jean Marie Le Pen, the ultra right nationalist leader, complained that there were too many blacks in the '98 and subsequent teams. A mutiny against the coach in the 2010 World Cup was blamed in some quarters upon the black and Muslim players. More recently, the French Football Federation investigated 2011 allegations that officials tried to limit the numbers of Arab and black players. This flies in the face of official French policy, which prohibits counting or designating people by ethnic/religious backgrounds.

A recent former manager of Les Bleus, Laurent Blanc, changed a team policy in which the players ate only halal meat. French soccer is fertile territory for culture wars.

Vincent Duluc covers the French team for the country's sports daily L'Equipe and was in Stade de France when the bombs went off. Duluc does not see France having what he termed "an Invictus moment"  next year at Euro. "We've already had our Invictus moment – in 1998," said Duluc, referring to the "blanc, black, beur" World Cup. "This time it can't be the same. I would like it to be like that. [But] the French society has changed."

Duluc noted that this team was also dealing with another serious issue: the probable loss of their top striker, Karim Benzema, who is accused of participating in a plot to blackmail a teammate over a sex tape. Duluc thought Benzema, who happens to be Muslim, would be suspended, removing him from Euro 2016.

As host, the bar is set high for the French, who were beaten 1-0 by Germany in the last eight of an underwhelming 2014 World Cup. "To succeed, the French team has to at least reach semi-finals,"  Duluc said.

But can les Bleus succeed on the social front, as a team that is both supported by Muslim France  and in which traditional, proud France fully embraces the Muslim cohort within the team? Can they provide a small, symbolic step towards cohesion?

Duluc reckoned the Algerian-French tend to support both the French team and the Algerian football side, but back Algeria first. If one was to compare this to Italians and Greeks in Australia (who have been in their adopted land for a similar period), it's evident that French multiculturalism has seen much less integration.

Second-generation Italians are fervent followers of the local – lately less appealing – version of "the Blues".

To ask a team to bridge those sectarian and cultural divides may be too much. Les Bleus have already soothed a nation simply by taking the field. They've spoken to the nation's grief.

Duluc doubts we will see the kind of raw feeling that was in the stands and on the pitch at Wembley. And nor should we see it. "I hope there won't be any more emotion like that."