Is History Repeating Itself? (A Bastille Day Reflection)
Yesterday Critical Mass Nola embarked on a Bastille Day Community Engagement Ride—but what exactly was the Bastille, and why is it important?
Nola to Angola shares with Critical Mass Nola riders about how they can get involved in their work.
The Bastille was a medieval fortress in Paris that had come to symbolize royal tyranny. By the late 18th century, it was used as a state prison for political dissidents and as a storehouse for gunpowder. On July 14, 1789, revolutionaries stormed the Bastille to seize gunpowder and weapons. This dramatic act became a defining moment of the French Revolution, marking the beginning of the people’s uprising against absolute monarchy.
France Before the Revolution
Before the French Revolution, France was organized under a rigid feudal system divided into three estates:
I. The First Estate (Clergy) – about 1% of the population. They enjoyed enormous privileges, including exemption from taxation.
II. The Second Estate (Nobility/Aristocracy) – also about 1% of the population. They held the majority of the wealth and land, but were likewise exempt from paying taxes.
III. The Third Estate (Everyone Else) – roughly 98% of the population, including merchants, artisans, peasants, and the entire working class. They carried nearly the full tax burden of the nation while reaping few benefits.
Although the First and Second Estates contributed little in taxes, they enjoyed the wealth generated from them. Through their consolidated political power, they blocked reforms that might undermine their privileges.
Seeds of Revolution
By the 1780s, France was in a financial crisis, worsened by its costly involvement in wars such as the American Revolution. Charles Alexandre de Calonne, the Controller-General of Finances, proposed reforms including a universal land tax applying to all estates—even the nobility and clergy. These proposals were rejected.
The burden fell harder on the Third Estate, which faced worsening poverty, rising bread prices, and no political voice. The Estates-General was called in 1789, but when the Third Estate was shut out of meaningful reform, they organized themselves as the National Assembly and moved toward open revolt.
When Parisians rose up on July 14, their immediate goal was to seize gunpowder from the Bastille to arm themselves against royal forces. But symbolically, the storming of the Bastille represented the tearing down of feudal oppression itself.
Then and Now
The French Revolution reminds us what happens when inequality becomes unsustainable. Then, 2% of the population lived in untaxed luxury while the vast majority carried the nation’s burdens. Today, the parallels are striking. Trickle-down economics has increased the fortunes of the wealthy, the federal minimum wage remains at $7.25 while the cost of living skyrockets, and the top 1% of American society owns more wealth than the bottom 50% combined.
The storming of the Bastille was not just about gunpowder—it was about dignity, justice, and the refusal to accept a system rigged for the powerful few.
Dr. Pablo Zavala elaborating on ICE, and the network of activist observing the immigration court at the foot of Canal Street.
The passage of the One, Big, Beautiful Bill, signed into law on July 4, 2025, as Public Law 119-21, blatantly extracts wealth from the working class and transfers it to the billionaire class. At its core, it expands massive tax cuts to the top 1%, giving a total $114 billion benefit to the wealthiest people in 2026 alone. It will also lead to approximately $500 billion to $536 billion in mandatory Medicare funding cuts over the next decade.
Contrary to the mythology we’re taught in school, the U.S. Constitution was never meant to embody democracy—it was designed to restrain it. The “Founding Fathers” openly feared what they called the “tyranny of the majority” and built a government to protect property and privilege against the masses who had fought in the Revolution. Drafted in secrecy, the Constitution centralized power for the purpose of raising armies to suppress slave revolts, crush farmers’ uprisings, and expand settler control of Indigenous land. Its framework has always safeguarded elite rule, and today its defenders—especially through the Supreme Court and doctrines like “originalism”—continue to use it as a weapon against genuine popular power.
Our federalist form of government was created for and owned by the billionaire class. They use their wealth as a political tool to rig the economy to their own benefit. The only way to combat these acts of oppression and worker suppression is to organize and build grassroots power. This was the emphasis of our Bastille Day community engagement ride, which focused on four separate issues as we biked from Canal Street to the Lower 9th Ward.
Nola to Angola
At the start of our ride, Nola to Angola elaborated on the bicycle ride they organize to Angola Prison every October. They raise funds that provide free monthly transportation for families to visit their incarcerated loved ones. This work not only breaks down the isolation imposed by the prison system, but also affirms the right of families to stay connected in the face of policies designed to sever those bonds. Their ride is both a fundraiser and an act of solidarity, linking the struggle for mobility in our city with the struggle against mass incarceration in Louisiana.
Immigration Court
Critical Mass Nola has a die-in to commemorate the life of Micael Milam who was killed in the bike lane by the “Do Not Enter” sign, and protesting for a separated bike lane.
From there, we rode to the foot of Canal Street, where the city’s immigration court operates in obscurity. There, we learned about the work of Dr. Pablo Zavala, who observes immigration court proceedings to shed light on a system designed to operate in silence. His presence documents the injustices immigrants face—rushed hearings, lack of legal representation, and the constant threat of detention and deportation. This work not only holds the court accountable but also affirms the humanity of immigrant communities who are too often treated as disposable in a city that depends on their labor and contributions.
St. Claude Avenue
Next, we rode to St. Claude Avenue, where Laura Harris spoke about the work of the Complete Streets Coalition to make the corridor safer for all who travel it. Just days before our ride, Michael Milam was struck and killed while riding in the bike lane at St. Claude and Alvar. In response, we held a die-in to honor his life and to demand real change: a protected, separated bike lane that prioritizes safety over car dominance. Our presence on St. Claude underscored the urgency of transforming the city’s streets from sites of tragedy into spaces of justice and mobility.
Stop the Grain Train
Lastly, we rode to the Lower 9th Ward, where the DSA candidate for District E shared about the Stop the Grain Train campaign. Residents there face the looming threat of freight trains carrying grain through their neighborhood, which would bring constant noise, dust, and pollution, disrupting daily life and endangering public health. The campaign calls for accountability from industry and the city, demanding that working-class Black communities not be sacrificed for corporate profit. Standing with the Lower 9 is essential to building a New Orleans where environmental justice and community well-being come before the interests of industry.
Conclusion
As we rode through Downtown New Orleans, we did more than occupy the streets—we placed ourselves within a long lineage of struggle. Just as the storming of the Bastille marked the beginning of the French Revolution, and just as the workers in the Paris Commune rose to seize control of their own destiny, our ride was a modest yet meaningful act of reclaiming space denied to us by the fossil fuel industry. The crises we face—crumbling infrastructure, climate collapse, racial injustice, and dispossession—are not accidents but the inevitable product of a system that privileges profit over people. History teaches us that when the oppressed remain unorganized, the ruling class will continue to exploit and abandon us. But history also shows the opposite—when ordinary people move collectively, we can tear down the old order and build something new. Let this moment be not just one of reflection, but of resolve—to organize, to struggle, and to lay the groundwork for a society where liberté, égalité, fraternité are not empty slogans but material realities guaranteed for all.
In Solidarity,
Eric Gabourel
The Author at Place de la Bastille in Paris.