Just a few days before American Independence Day, residents of Loubai, a small industrial city in northern France, gathered around a newly unveiled mural that was barely expected. Painted on Esperance's collapsed brick wall, this work shows a familiar figure from the Statue of Liberty, but her face is buried in her hands. The torch, which she normally holds a high hang, is limp on her side. Instead of victory, there is only quiet despair.
The artist simply signing “Eroi” did not select a random date. Speaking to the spectators after the cloth was pulled apart, Eloi explained why Mrs. Liberty was so proud of her.
The mural, painted in muted grey and rust, stretches nearly five meters wide. Eloi avoided dramatic slogans and hashtags. Instead, artists relied on the power of the image itself. This is a symbol of a nation built on hope, and now succumbing to the weight of actual policies.
Locals stop staring, nodding in quiet consent, others take photos to share online. Several visitors admitted they didn't fully grasp the context until they heard Eloi speak. “It's not just what America says,” the artist explained. “That's what America does: children separated from their parents, families left behind the fence, and people waiting in dangerous camps because people deemed “unsuitable.” ”
The timing made the statement even more sharp. When Americans prepare for a speech celebrating fireworks and freedom, the mural asks what that freedom means when immigrants and asylum seekers remain trapped in bureaucratic range, or even worse, when forced back to where they fled.
In Roubek, cities shaped by a generation of immigrants (first from Belgium, later from North Africa, and more recently from the Middle East) are not abstract. Many residents know the fear of their families being denied a visa or the uncertainty of temporary permission. The unveiling woman whose grandparents came from Algeria said, “We call her the Statue of Liberty, but it hurts to see what her promises will turn out.”
Eloi chose Roubaix rather than Paris or Marseille. Because, as they said, “This is a city built by people who had nothing, and we are looking for a place to belong.” The location itself (a semi-aired warehouse scheduled for demolition in the coming years) takes on an extra layer. “There's nothing that lasts forever,” Eroi said. “Even the image of freedom must protect what she represents.”
“If the image makes people mad,” they said, “Maybe they should ask why.”
