As a South African artist, witnessing Donald Trump’s inauguration stirred a complex wave of emotions within me—a mix of sorrow, anger, and deep empathy for my American friends. This work was born within hours of the news of the election. This piece, developed alongside Amanda, is more than just an artistic statement; it is a visceral reaction to a pivotal and troubling moment in American history. It speaks to the disillusionment many felt as they watched a democracy, once a beacon of hope, teeter under the weight of rising hate and division.
Why would a South African surrealist care about the political turmoil in the United States? My connection to America runs deep. I have walked its streets, absorbed its spirit, and formed bonds with its people, you. Bonds forged through shared ideals of freedom and equality. Yet, my perspective is shaped by my own nation’s tumultuous history. I was born into apartheid—a system that legalized hate, restricted freedoms, and dictated every aspect of life. In that oppressive environment, choices about love, movement, and even speech were determined by law. This history is not distant; it is embedded in my very being.
I remember the suffocating silence enforced by media bans and censorship. It wasn’t until my teenage years, as apartheid began to crumble and Nelson Mandela walked free, that the truths of our past atrocities came to light. The rage I felt upon discovering the lies I’d been fed burned fiercely—an anger that still smolders today. This is the emotional landscape from which this work emerged.
In America, I now see shadows of the past. The hateful rhetoric, the marginalization of vulnerable communities, and the erosion of democratic norms echo the dark chapters of South Africa’s history. My heart aches because I understand the pain of watching a nation betray its ideals. Under Jacob Zuma’s presidency, South Africa endured rampant corruption, economic decay, and deepening social divisions. Zuma, much like Trump, embodied the dangerous blend of populism and self-interest that corrodes public trust and democratic institutions.
But I also know that change is inevitable. Zuma was eventually forced to resign, a testament to the collective will of the people. South Africa, though scarred, began to heal, inching toward accountability and renewal. Similarly, I believe America will endure and emerge stronger. The path ahead may be fraught with hardship, but resistance, resilience, and unity can pave the way for change.
Liberty’s Resignation captures this delicate balance between despair and hope. Lady Liberty, in this piece, does not stand tall but bows her head and looks back in sorrow as she walks away—not in defeat, but in mourning. Yet, within that sadness is the potential for return and renewal. To my American friends, I offer these words: Abide. Rage. Scream. Sing. Know that this darkness is temporary.
Art allows me to process and convey these complex emotions, bridging the gap between my experiences and yours. This creation stands as a symbol of solidarity, a reminder that across oceans and borders, we share a common struggle for justice and freedom. This moment in history will not define you forever. Everything changes.
Niki McQueen
Cape Town, January, 2025
