Post by blackcrowheart on Oct 25, 2005 14:05:44 GMT -5
Commerce and Religion Collide on a Mountainside
By RANDAL C. ARCHIBOLD
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Jill Torrance for The New York Times
Jeneda Benally, a Navajo advocate, standing near the San Francisco Peaks, part of the Coconino National Forest in Flagstaff, Ariz.
The New York Times
The national forest is not on tribal land but is within ancestral boundaries claimed by several tribes.
FLAGSTAFF, Ariz. - In the view of American Indians here, the spirits that inhabit the San Francisco Peaks, towering 12,000-foot-plus mountains rising from the desert here, certainly did not appreciate it when a ski run was built a quarter of a century ago on one slope.
So imagine, tribal leaders ask, what the spirits will think - or worse, do - when treated wastewater is piped up from Flagstaff and sprayed on the mountain so the resort, the Arizona Snowbowl, can make more snow to ski on? A lawyer for one of the tribes likened it to "pouring dirty water on the Vatican."
In a trial that began this month, 13 Indian tribes who regard the peaks as virtual living deities of the highest order argued that the plan would interfere with their religious practices, including the gathering of mountain water and herbs they say the artificial snow would taint.
"The mountain is like a power plant," Frank Mapatis, a spiritual leader in the Hualapai tribe, said in court. "You plant a feather there, and it is like plugging into a power plant."
The case pits economic interests against traditional practices, and culture versus science, the kind of clashes that are becoming increasingly common in the West as population booms and development pressures butt against Indian desires to reassert ancient practices.
Operators of the Arizona Snowbowl, one of the few ski resorts in the state, said it could go out of business without making snow because winter precipitation is so erratic in the high desert here. The resort, which has proposed the snowmaking under a plan to expand the ski runs, and the Forest Service, which approved the plan, both say the water would be cleaned to the highest degree, A-plus in the industry vernacular, though falling short of potable.
The federal government has said that even with the expanded ski runs, the resort would be using only about one percent of the peaks on the otherwise undeveloped mountain.
Eric Borowsky, a principal of the resort, said in an interview that despite bountiful snows last season, most other recent years have been dry. In the winter of 2001-02, the resort was open only four days and revenue was only 1.5 percent of the budget.
"No business in the world can stay in business if you miss 98.5 percent of your revenue," Mr. Borowsky said. The 777-acre resort pays the federal government 1.5 percent of its annual revenue in rent, which in 2004 was $138,957.
To stress their sensitivity to the tribes, the Snowbowl hired Bruce Babbitt, a former Arizona governor and interior secretary under President Bill Clinton, as a consultant. Mr. Babbitt, as secretary, was instrumental in closing down a pumice mine on the mountain that he called a "sacrilegious scar." The pumice had been used to make stone-washed jeans, and in a gesture of thanks, the tribes gave Mr. Babbitt a pair.
Demonstrators outside the courthouse in Prescott, incensed at what they perceive as Mr. Babbitt's turnabout, have taunted him with signs shaped like underpants (as in give back the jeans).
Mr. Babbitt said he would not comment while the trial was under way.
Indian tribes unsuccessfully sued to block the resort in 1979. The current lawsuit, aided by environmental groups including the Sierra Club, was brought under more recent laws and regulations that require federal agencies to consult with American Indian groups when considering development on federal land and to take into account the effect on religious practices. The resort sits amid the vast Coconino National Forest and while not on tribal land, is within the ancestral boundaries claimed by several tribes.
"I think that if the tribe can demonstrate that this site is central and essential to its religion, it has a good chance of success in this case," said Robert Anderson, a University of Washington law professor who specializes in Native American legal issues. The defendants, he said, must show there was a "compelling government interest" in the decision.
The groups also charge that the defendants, the Snowbowl and the Forest Service, did not adequately study whether the effluent could harm people, especially children, who consume artificial snow - on purpose or not.
The Snowbowl and Forest Service said in court papers that they made a good-faith effort to consult with the tribes - the Forest Service in an environmental report said it held 41 meetings, made 205 phone calls and exchanged 245 letters with members of the tribes - and found nothing environmentally egregious about using the treated sewage, known as reclaimed water. The resort balked at using fresh water because it is so scarce in Arizona, Mr. Borowsky said.
Nora B. Rasure, the supervisor of the Coconino National Forest, wrote this year in the report that the resort "has and continues to provide a valuable recreational experience to many people, and that in order to continue providing that experience in today's physical and business environment, changes are needed."
Ms. Rasure noted that none of the tribes performed ceremonies or maintained shrines within the resort property and that the improvements would involve only 205 acres.
Ms. Rasure, through a spokeswoman, declined an interview.
The trial, before Judge Paul G. Rosenblatt and expected to last into next month, has posed challenges for plaintiffs and defendants alike, as some Indians are reluctant to divulge closely guarded religious practices.
Mr. Mapatis, the Hualapai spiritual leader, to the surprise of some other Indian leaders, told the court that he gathered plants and flowers for use in healing ceremonies and that after a woman gave birth he brought the placenta to the mountain to ensure the newborn has a healthy life. Members of his tribe use water from the mountain in sweat lodge ceremonies, and the peaks figure prominently in the Hualapai creation story, as well as other tribes'.
Mixing mountain water with water that in an earlier, untreated form may have included waste from mortuaries or hospitals, Mr. Mapatis said, could infect members of his tribe with "ghost sickness," a disagreeable state difficult to cure.
"It's like putting death on the mountain, which would be a form of witchcraft or black magic," Mr. Mapatis said. "I won't be able to practice my religion."
But Bill Bucky Preston, a spiritual leader in the Hopi tribe, which has a reputation for secrecy about their practices, refused to describe in detail what practices he would no longer be able to do or how the mountain figures in Hopi lore. And that was when his own lawyer was questioning him.
"It is very difficult to be put in this position to reveal this information," Mr. Preston said. "We are told by our uncles and grandparents that it is sacred and cannot be revealed to anybody."
On a visit to the mountain earlier this month, Jeneda Benally, a Navajo advocate, said the very notion of making snow, regardless of the purity of the water, could offend the kachinas, the spirits on the mountain.
"The kachinas are the snow makers," she said. "When man makes snow what does that tell the deities?"
www.nytimes.com/2005/10/23/national/23peaks.html