14 Friday, June 13, 1986
THE DETROIT JEWISH NEWS
*LIBERTY' S PROMISE*
Forever Free
Spreading liberty throughout the world is
not an easy chore. Yet, The Lady has done
it with dignity, modesty and a silent
language that all people hear.
ARTHUR J. MAGIDA
Editor of This Special Section
he stands in New
York harbor, just
beyond where the
waters stop being the
Atlantic. At that
point, they are still
salty enough not to be fresh and
frigid enough to be virtually
unswimmable. Facing due east, she
has a fine view of the Narrows that
separate Brociklyn and Staten Island.
One imagines that if she could raise
herself onto her toes, she would also
have a clear view of that line that
separates the Old World from the
New, a line that she has symbolized
now for a century.
The Statue of Liberty looks beyond
all of this — the bulge of Brooklyn
and the sweep of Staten Island and
the broad, cold waters of the Atlantic
— with a gaze that is at once huge,
foreboding, stern. And forever
inspiring.
Miss Liberty's eastward gaze
reminds us of her birth land and of
ours: The French gave her to us and
all lands gave us to America. Her
towering immensity — all 151 feet
and one inch of her — reflects the
immensity of the dream which she
symbolizes, a dream that knows no
borders, no ideologies.
For over 100 years, the Statue has
been doing her best to spread liberty
throughout the world. It has not been
an easy chore. She, like liberty itself,
has too often been forgotten or
neglected. And we, in our fondness
for freedom (and also perhaps, in our
naivete) have often thought of liberty
as something peculiarly American. We
have had Liberty Bonds and Liberty
Ships and we still have a cracked, but
venerable Liberty Bell.
But liberty is not an American pro-
duct, something on which we can put
our label and distribute to friendly
markets around the globe. Liberty is a
human reflex, as natural as breathing,
as indispensable as prayer. The Statue
speaks to all men in all places. There
is nothing parochial about her,
nothing chauvinist.
And yet, Miss Liberty is an icon of
America. A gift from France, she is
more American than apple pie or
Uncle Sam. It seems that at the same
time she is "liberty" and she is
"America - and if in the popular
imagination, the two are the same,
then so be it. She has earned it.
Under her torch have passed hungry
and hopeful immigrants, tired and
worn soldiers, men in top hats and
women in shawls, tailors and bankers
and artists and gamblers. The Lady
has heard "Over There" played on
outgoing troop ships and - Home
Sweet Home" played on returning
ships. She has heard Italian
accordions and Jewish violins and
Irish penny-whistles coming from
steerage and 12-piece bands coming
from the finest ocean liners.
And from just over her left
shoulder, she has eavesdropped on
the noisy, confused arrival of
immigrants on Ellis Island and then
listened to their scattering throughout
the country — some to the grand
opportunities and narrow streets of
New York, most to the great
unknowns of Indiana or Texas or
Maryland or, for the brave and the
fearless, even of faraway California.
The Statue has heard it all and she
has seen it all.
Many of us have seen the Statue
from Manhattan and, as with anything
that has burnished its way onto our
memories, not thought much about
her. She — like the liberty she
symbolizes — has always been there.
But this year, there is nothing
ordinary about The Lady. We have
finally learned not to take her for
granted. After her facelift, we will
look with a new respect at the same
resolute face, at the same arm holding
aloft a newly gilded flame of liberty,
at that same copper torso that towers
over New York harbor.
With the realization that Miss
Liberty is who she has always been —
just stronger and guaranteed, say the
workmen who have lovingly restored
her, to stand at least another 100
years — there also comes the
recognition that we take another look
at what she symbolizes.
In 1878, the Statue's sculptor,
Frederick Bartholdi, told a New York
reporter, "I have a horror of all
frippery of detail in sculpture. The
forms and effects of that art should
be broad, massive and simple."
Liberty, too, needs to be simple. It
should not be gussied up and paraded
about. It is an impulse that speaks to
all of us in the most simple and
elegant manner. And this the Statue
does with modesty and power.
Standing there in New York, greeting
the poor and the talented and the
homesick and the war weary, she
speaks a silent language that all men
hear.
And to which all people aspire.
The Statue of
Liberty has
symbolized
hope and
opportunity
for several
generations of
immigrants.