An entire decade before “Lady Liberty” took her place on Bedloe Island in the New York harbor, the Jews of the United States erected their own statue of liberty. The process began in 1874, when the B’nai B’rith organization in the United States commissioned a monument to religious liberty, with its location to be in Philadelphia. This city was selected because that is where the Declaration of Independence had been signed in 1776.
The commission was offered to American-Jewish sculptor Moses Ezekiel. He was well known because he had won a major prize given in United States, awarded for his bas-relief Israel. Once an artist had won an award for his work, he or she would take up residence in Rome. There, the excitement of creativity was felt, and the artist would be inspired.
Ezekiel worked for two years on his statue, which was to commemorate the centennial of the US and the American concept of religious freedom. Some 150 years ago, a critic wrote an evaluation of the work, stressing that “as a devout Jew, Ezekiel could appreciate the full blessing of religious liberty, and as a loyal American he was fully conscious of the implications of the spirit of liberty.” The critic concluded: “Ezekiel grapples with a mighty hand over living ideas and gives them tangible forms.”
That statue dedicated on November 30, 1876, has moved from its original home in Fairmont Park to the site of the (Jane and Stuart) Weitzman National Museum of American Jewish History in downtown Philadelphia, next to the Mikveh Israel Synagogue. The work is a three-meter marble figure of a woman, clad in a close-fitting coat of mail and wearing a Phrygian cap with a border of 13 stars, symbolizing the 13 original states.
The right hand of Ezekiel’s “Religious Liberty” extends over the figure of a boy, holding a glowing lamp. In the foreground is an eagle, representing America, grasping a serpent which is the symbol of intolerance – familiar American symbols.
The American Jewish role in the Statue of Liberty
American Jews also played their role in the erection of the more famous Statue of Liberty in 1886. Actually, the first part of the statue – the hand and the torch – had been sent by the French government to the US as a gift in 1876 to commemorate the American centennial.
Because of the lack of funds, it took the French eight more years to complete and send the entire statue. Although the statue was a gift, the Americans had the responsibility of providing the base so the statue would stand. We can read the publications of the Jewish community to see how difficult that “simple” task was. An editorial in The Jewish Messenger, an Anglo-Jewish New York paper in the mid-1880s, read:
“Apart from the slight recognition given by Congress in its closing days, New York state was left unanimously by its sister states to pay the expenses of the pedestal, and of properly erecting the beautiful gift of a friendly nation. Then the emphasis on the international aspect of such a gift.”
This was poor respect to pay to France and another demonstration of the fact that state and city jealousies are as rampant as ever. Then the editorial strongly made its point. “Had the gift been made to New York, there might have been justice in the refusal of other states to pay for New York ornaments. But certainly the entire country was made the recipient.”
Not to be deterred, the French had the statue completed by the famous sculptor Frederic Bartholdi and presented it to the American ambassador in Paris on July 4, 1884. The Americans knew the Statue of Liberty was ready for a trip to New York City by crossing the Atlantic Ocean. However, there were still not sufficient “funds in the coffers” to raise the statue above Bedloe Island on which it was to be erected.
To some Americans, it seemed that the failure to put the gift in its proper place was tantamount to national disgrace. One of those who voiced such an opinion was Joseph Pulitzer, a Hungarian-Jewish immigrant who had taken over the New York World newspaper in 1883. Pulitzer, who made his mark in America’s press with the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, called for a public campaign to raise money for the statue.
There were contributions from many different origins and of various sums. The Purim Ball Committee of Harlem sent in $5.50 from New York Israelites, while a member of Temple Emanuel wrote, “Rabbi Gottheil urged us to aid the pedestal fund as loyal Americans, so here is my $10, which I hope will help.”
By August 11, 1885, Pulitzer had achieved his goal, and the New York World campaign had raised $100,000. When the statue arrived in New York later that year, the pedestal was ready. Campaigns to raise funds for the iron fastenings and final erection of the statue, however, were still underway, but not enough to cover the costs. Readers of the American Hebrew weekly newspaper were to play a major role in the campaign which started in early 1886.
An advertisement in the newspaper that read “More Money Needed” ran for 20 weeks during the first half of the year. The ad had a drawing of the Statue of Liberty at the top and explained that models of the statue were on sale for $1, $5, and $10. They must have sold well because the advertisement continued to run week after week in a prominent place in the newspaper. The statues were among the first mass-produced replicas of the Statue of Liberty.
On October 6, 1886, the American Hebrew announced that “the unveiling of the Bartholdi Statue of Liberty will make October 28 a memorable day for New York, as the ceremonies arranged will be of an impressive and altogether worthy character.”
Let me pause to turn to the heroine of the Statue of Liberty, Emma Lazarus. Today, we continue to praise the sonnet “New Colossus,” which she wrote for a contest in 1883 to raise money for the statue. It won first prize and brought in $1,000 for the pedestal fund. The sonnet contains the familiar line “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.”
Alas, as was often the case in this brilliant poet’s life, the sonnet was lost when the dedication occurred. Finally, a friend found it 20 years later and had a plaque made and fastened on to the pedestal. Even then, little was said, and Lazarus had died in 1886.
Twelve years ago, on the 125th anniversary of the dedication of the statue, Professor Esther Schor, the leading authority on Emma Lazarus, spoke at an anniversary celebration held in Philadelphia. She shared with me parts of her lecture presented at the Weitzman National Museum of American Jewish History in 2011.
Schor pointed out that the sonnet’s background lay in the Russian-Jewish refugee crisis of 1881-1882. “Rabbi Gustav Gottheil of Temple Emanuel persuaded Emma to visit the immigrants, and when she came face to face with their reality on Ward’s Island – overcrowding, poor food and hygiene, lack of training and education – she took on their plight with a single thought and a single work. She worked in the HIAS employment bureau, taught English, and advocated for them to both Jewish and general audiences. She traveled to Europe to raise money and gave generously of her own.”
Schor emphasized that “in spite of her disappointment, within two years instead of retreating, she broadened her cause to all immigrants and took her request for aid to the nation instead of the Jewish people.” Her sonnet for the Statue of Liberty reflects that.
Another insight of Prof. Schor is most important. In the US, there have been attempts to alter immigrant policy. “Because of Emma Lazarus’s sonnet, Liberty has gone on speaking her message of welcome, even when the American voters and their representatives have tried to limit immigration or make the lives of those who have already emigrated fraught and uncertain. Liberty’s voice can be occluded for periods of time, but somehow it always makes its way into the political conversation.”
I had my personal link to the poem of Emma Lazarus. In 1954, the State of Georgia erected a miniature Statue of Liberty on the grounds of the state capitol. The Boy Scouts of Atlanta marched through the city to mark the dedication. The scouts in my Jewish troop #73 were honored. We had memorized the Lazarus sonnet, and together we recited it with great joy before the governor of Georgia and the other honorees present.
Now on to the dedication of the Statue of Liberty. When Bartholdi, his wife, and Delesseps, the designer of the Suez Canal, arrived in New York on a French steamer, they were welcomed by a small group of leading citizens. Among them was Jesse Seligman, a member of the Our Crowd group of wealthy German-Jewish immigrants. He sailed out on a little boat with New York’s leading citizens to the steamer, where Bartholdi was warmly received prior to his actual landing.
Among the singers performing at the ceremony on October 28 1886, was the opera star Adele Marguiles, one of the leading Jewish performers in America’s gilded age.
“We are not here today to bow before the representation of a fierce and warlike God, filled with wrath and vengeance, but we joyously contemplate instead our own deity, keeping watch and ward before the open gates of America.... We will not forget that Liberty has here made her home; nor shall her chosen altar be neglected,”
Grover Cleveland
At the pedestal, president Grover Cleveland officially accepted the statue for all Americans. “We are not here today to bow before the representation of a fierce and warlike God, filled with wrath and vengeance, but we joyously contemplate instead our own deity, keeping watch and ward before the open gates of America.... We will not forget that Liberty has here made her home; nor shall her chosen altar be neglected,” he said.
The Jewish Messenger regarded the event not only as a holiday but also as a political event. “The Bartholdi celebration and the presence of the metropolis and its country cousins to high pitch of enthusiasm.... The words of eloquence and good cheer will serve still more powerfully to cement France and America in lasting friendship. Both republics are liberty-loving, both are broad and cosmopolitan; in both [countries], art, science and learning have made rapid progress. They are linked together for the future by political and social interests.”
The newspaper clearly did not see the statue being symbolic of anything other than a close bond between two nations. Time would change the Statue of Liberty’s meaning for the Jewish community of America as new immigrants arrived in greater numbers in the harbor of freedom. ■