Robert Moses’ name should be mud

Across the South, they fell. Monuments to the Confederacy were covered in plywood and shipped into storage. Streets bearing the names of Forrest, Hood and Lee, became Freedom, Hope and Liberty. Portraits and plaques of rebel generals were removed from public view. Beyond the structural teardowns, the 2017 Unite the Right Rally in Charlottesville launched our nation into a long overdue reckoning over slavery, Jim Crow and institutional racism.

Confederate monuments in New York, a Union stronghold, were never widespread. But what New York lacked in monuments, it madeupforwithitsownversionof Jim Crow. Yet here, the man responsible for the largest segregation and degradation of African Americans in the 20th century is still regularly lauded as a genius, an innovator and a master builder. Instead, he should be remembered another way, as a racist who inflictedgenerationalsufferingonAfrican Americans across our city and state.

For 44 years, Robert Moses ruled over New York. Unelected, his power drawn from up to 12 concurrent city, state and federal appointments, he used his unparalleled control of public authorities with impunity. Deftly utilizing loopholes and creating new law, Moses had his own shadow government, with his own police force, flag, and an island under the Triborough (now Robert F. Kennedy) Bridge.

There is no debate over the sheer magnitude of what he built. His accomplishments bestride New York: 416 miles of highways, 13 bridges, 658 playgrounds and housing for 150,000 people. He constructed parkways, tunnels, beaches, zoos, parks, Shea Stadium, the New York Coliseum, the United Nations, Lincoln Center and much more.

Yet, too many of his grand achievements are either tinged with racism or scorched by it.

He built Jones Beach, the greatest public beach the world had ever seen. But when it opened, Moses wanted its visitors to only be white. To keep African Americans out, he built the parkway overpasses too low for buses, knowing full well that at the time most African Americans did not own cars.

He worked to ensure black war veterans could not move into Stuyvesant Town. He removed language in the city contract for its development that would have

prevented discrimination.

Under the guise of urban renewal, 7,000 African Americans and Hispanics were evicted from a diverse, working-class neighborhood for the construction of Lincoln Center. Promised relocation assistance from Moses’ Slum Clearance Committee never came. Those displaced ended up in the Bronx and Harlem, further segregating New York City.

In 1936, Moses built 11 enormous pools across the city, but had no intention of permitting minorities to use them. He purposely set those built in Harlem to colder temperatures, believing, for whatever reason, that African Americans didn’t like to swim in cold water.

He adorned the wrought-iron trellises in northern Manhattan parks with images of monkeys, while parks in white communities featured curling waves on their trellises.

Heralded for his herculean accomplishments, Moses’ name has been enshrined across New York. There is the Robert Moses Causeway in Suffolk County and the Robert Moses Playground in Manhattan. An upstate hydroelectric power plant bears his name.

There is the Robert Moses State Park in Massena, which shouldn’t be confused with Robert Moses State Park on Long Island. A 7-foot-tall bronze statue of Moses stands outside Babylon Village Hall.

Changing the name of a dam won’t impact its production of kilowatts. Removing his name from a causeway won’t reduce its congestion. Striking his name from state parks won’t make them any less popular in summer.

But it will send a clear message. Those who abused their power to promote segregation will no longer be celebrated in New York.

Today, we are moving to correct many ravages of Moses. Carcentricplanning,acentraltenetof his vision, is finally giving way to real investments in mass transit and transportation alternatives. But as we find ways to correct for the Moses ravages, how to address the Moses racism? Removing his name from anything that bares it would be a powerful first step.

Haber is a former professor at John Jay College and lecturer on Robert Moses.