The Statue of Liberty, that towering green goddess of idealism, was gifted to the United States in 1886 by France—a gesture ostensibly celebrating the centennial of American independence, but more accurately, a passive-aggressive nudge to remind the U.S. to actually live up to its own founding principles.
France, freshly scarred from its own struggles with monarchy, revolution, and war, hoped the statue would inspire both nations to hold fast to democracy and freedom. And at first, Lady Liberty was largely interpreted in that light: a beacon to immigrants, a sentinel against tyranny, a noble figure welcoming the huddled masses yearning to breathe free.
But the truth is, like any good political symbol, she’s a Rorschach test. Her meaning depends entirely on the era and the state, or status, of the observer.
At the time of her erection in New York Harbor, she was both a monument and a mirage. The Gilded Age was in full swing. Industrialists were lining their pockets with the sweat of the very immigrants the statue supposedly welcomed. The streets of America’s cities were crammed with exploited labor, and the concept of liberty didn’t seem to extend far beyond white, male landowners. The statue’s torch promised enlightenment, but for millions, it was little more than a porch light buzzing with the desperate, the displaced, and the deceived.
Fast-forward to today, and Lady Liberty finds herself in an existential crisis. She still stands there, holding that torch aloft, but one has to wonder if she’s started questioning her purpose.
During the first Trump term, she stood less as a beacon of hope and more as parody for asylum-seekers turned away at the border. The nation that once prided itself on welcoming “the tired, the poor, the huddled masses” suddenly found itself lobbing tear gas at them. Lady Liberty watched in stony silence as children were caged, Muslims were banned, and neo-Nazis were rebranded as “very fine people.”
Yet, paradoxically, she has also become a silent witness to resistance. Protesters have climbed her pedestal in defiance of unjust policies. She’s been meme-ified, photoshopped with a gag over her mouth, disillusioned, or crying. In an era where the very notion of democracy is under ferocious attack, she remains an enduring (if battered) reminder that America still clings to the myth of its own righteousness.
Today, she’s less a grand ideal and more an uncomfortable question mark. Does she still represent freedom, or just the nostalgia for a freedom that never fully materialized? Or is she destined to become a relic of a democratic experiment—dazzling, but hollow?
Lady Liberty stands. That much is true. But as the world looks on—watching America slide into authoritarianism, dismantle its own institutions, and grapple with its identity—one has to wonder if she’d like to step down, book a one-way ticket back to France, or to Canada, or to our neighbor to the South, and leave America to its own devices.
If liberty still means anything, it won’t be because we left her standing alone in the cold. It will be because people woke up, stepped forward, and helped her carry that torch—refusing to let the forces of hate and corruption snuff it out.
It’s up to each of us to reclaim our ideals, our inalienable rights. Lady Liberty has been waiting. It’s time we spoke up, stepped up, and fought for the ideals she was meant to represent.
(Author’s note: I wrote this story after hearing about the French politician Raphael Glucksmann, calling on the US to give back the Statue of Liberty.) This was previously published on Substack. You can find more of Urs Baur’s writing at https://ursbaur.substack.com/
