Make America Moze Again
February 15, 2018, by Mika
Despite how cliché it sounds the more I learn about New York in the 19th century the more I realize that the more things change the more they stay the same. Sante’s description of how the city went from Harbour/Port city ambitions to the hustling and bustling conglomeration of random roads and shining streets illuminates the similarities between the New York of today and the city of yesterday. For example, while the MTA has had over 100 years to smooth out the inefficiencies of the subway system, I still feel like I’m dealing with the same logistical nightmares that commuters in the days of the horse drawn buggy and elevated trains were dealing with. In A Hazard of New Fortunes Hal writes that the “variety of people in the car” was “unfailingly entertaining as ever.” The excitement and variation of people watching has not changed to this day and remains one of the more interesting parts of my daily commutes throughout the city.
Another chord struck in Sante’s “Streets” chapter is the hustle and ambition of local advertisers. This seems to be the most prevalent themes in the history of New York—New Yorker’s always are looking for a new deal to make and are willing to cut corners to get there. As the advertising culture of street vendors evolved it’s clear that the “markets” wouldn’t exactly shy away from duping their customers. For all the values extolled about the hardworking labor class that keeps the city running, their most useful trait seems to be how easily they can be duped out of their money.
This brings me to the Gas Light chapter “Mose and Lize.” In order to deceive the largest group of suckers you need to make them feel special; that is why America has always lauded the “hardworking” middle class that props up the economy. It is as true in the current days of “Make America Great Again” as it was in the 20th century—the middle class wants to feel special and unique. That is why the Moze character trope is so lauded, because as Foster explains the “peculiar and distinguishing attributes of the b’hoy and g’hal” can only be found “all through our own country… slightly modified by location.” The fact that Americans wanted to see themselves in this brazen and forward character isn’t entirely unsurprising, what’s surprising is that it still works.
The b’hoy is celebrated, according to Foster, because he represents the “free development of Anglo-Saxon nature. This is the same apparent reason that a character like Donald Trump is so popular today—they show how powerful and free a white man can truly be. Forget that this power is only felt when they can compare themselves to “lesser” races, this is a power that only middle class Americans can apparently feel. To preserve that power the nation has relied on what Jeff Session rightly called the “Anglo-American” tradition of law enforcement. This power wasn’t always enforced by official state actors like the police, in fact in this time it was probably enforced by your local b’hoy and his para-millitary group of firefighters or local volunteers.
I can’t be comfortable with the b’hoy, no matter which traits they exalt. I can’t separate the image of a lovable Moze from the only place I’ve seen him in modern media—- Scorsese’s Gangs of New York. Daniel Day Lewis’s Bill the Butcher showed the true hateful and manipulative underbelly of this Moze character, shows that his bravado and spunk is only kept afloat by his hatred of any nationality of race he feels to be greater than. The fascination of the Moze character then reminds me of the obsession the media currently has with the white working class Trump voter. The amount of articles that covet the opinions of the beloved middle class white MAGA man probably rivals the amount of plays Moze appeared in. Whether the nation is idolizing trailblazers like Davy Crocket, or dotting over a precious coal miner who voted for Trump, America will celebrate any figure that shows the “free development to Anglo-Saxon nature.”