Havasupai Gather to Halt Uranium Mining in the Grand Canyon

Brenda Norrell August 26, 2009
Americas Program, Center for International Policy (CIP) americas.irc-online.org

Indigenous Havasupai people held a gathering to stop uranium mining in the Grand Canyon and protect ancestral Havasupai Territory, at the south rim of the Grand Canyon, in July of 2009. Indigenous peoples and activists came from the four directions, from Arizona Hopi land and from as far away as Hawaii, to participate with sacred songs and ceremonies.

For four days, Havasupai elders gathered on sacred Red Butte and listened to the legacy of uranium mining on Indian lands. They heard directly from the victims of the trail of death and cancer left behind by uranium mining corporations that were never held responsible on Pueblo and Navajo lands in the Southwest United States. They also listened to the promise of solidarity from the hundreds who gathered here to stand with them: Navajos from Big Mountain, Hualapai, Hopi, Kaibab Paiute, Paiute, Aztecs, and other American Indians from throughout the Americas.

The Havasupai Nation, with the Sierra Club, Center for Biological Diversity, and Grand Canyon Trust, sponsored the gathering to halt uranium mining on Red Butte, July 23-26, 2009. Supai elders gave testimony for official U.S. records in their Havasupai (Pai) language and in English. Supai traditional singers sang as a camp was established on this mesa where Toronto-based Denison Mines is threatening to reopen a uranium mine.

Recent congressional legislation protects the Grand Canyon from new mining claims, but does not deter mining under existing claims held by Denison and others. When the price of uranium increased in recent years and new interest in nuclear power grew, mining claims exploded in Arizona, even in the pristine region of the Grand Canyon. Supai Waters, Havasupai Keeper of the Water Songs, said his people are the Guardians of the Grand Canyon. He said uranium mining here is not just a threat to the Colorado River and tourists who come to see the Eighth Wonder of the World, but to Supai drinking water, underground aquifers, and drinking water in Southwest cities.

Speaking of the Supai responsibility to protect the land, water, and air here from the poisons of mining, Supai Waters said, "If we do let this happen, we would be the murderers of the world. We cannot let that happen." He said that protection of the Grand Canyon also affects the weather patterns and climate of the earth.

"My people have lived in the canyon since time immemorial. The canyons contain power points and vortexes. If there is tampering or pillaging, the earth will not be the same. There are places where we guard. These sacred places have to do with the weather, the wind, the sun, the celestial movements. That is why we are here protecting it," Supai Waters said.

Matthew Putesoy, vice chairman of the Havasupai Nation, said the Grand Canyon is a national treasure, inviting 5 million people every year to explore and be inspired by its beauty. "To the Havasuw 'Baaja, who have lived in the region for many hundreds of years, it is sacred. As the 'guardians of the Grand Canyon,' we strenuously object to mining for uranium here. It is a threat to the health of our environment and tribe, our tourism-based economy, and our religion."

Putesoy thanked Secretary of Interior Ken Salazar for announcing a two-year moratorium on new mining claims in the 1 million acres of lands around Grand Canyon National Park. However, Putesoy said existing claims, such as those pursued by Canadian-based Denison Mines Corp., still threaten the animals, air, drinking water, and people of the region. Denison, which has staked 110 claims around the Grand Canyon, is seeking groundwater-aquifer permits that would allow it to reopen the Canyon Mine, near Red Butte, as well as two other mining sites, Putesoy said.
"Here, mining could poison the aquifer, which extends for 5,000 square miles under the Coconino Plateau, and serves as drinking water for our tribe and neighboring communities. As I told Congress recently, if our water were polluted, we could not relocate to Phoenix or someplace else and still survive as the Havasupai Tribe. We are the Grand Canyon.

"Most importantly, Red Butte, where Denison Mines intends to reopen a mine, is a traditional site sacred to the Havasuw 'Baaja. Located in the Kaibab National Forest, Red Butte is known as Wii'i Gdwiisa, meaning 'clenched-fist mountain'."

Putesoy, quoting longtime Havasupai leader Rex Tilousi, said, "'Red Butte is the lungs of our Grandmother Canyon.' My people have used these traditional Havasupai religious areas for centuries. Instead of allowing the destruction of our national treasure, we are asking the federal government to work with the Havasupai Tribe to protect Red Butte and all of the lands on and around the Grand Canyon from further mining activities. This natural wonder is irreplaceable and demands our shared action and protection for those living now, and those yet to be born," Putesoy said.

Pueblo and Navajo Uranium Victims Panel
Pueblos and Navajos gave oral testimonies during the Uranium Victims Panel. Introducing the panel, Carletta Tilousi, Havasupai, said, "When I heard their stories, it changed my life forever." Tilousi said the people will stand united to fight for sacred places, water, land, air, and people.

Manuel Pino, Acoma Pueblo, said his people have lived with a 50-year legacy of uranium mining, living in the heart of the Grants uranium belt in northwest New Mexico. There were numerous uranium mines, and the Jackpile Mine, in neighboring Laguna Pueblo, was the largest ore producer in the United States.

Laguna Pueblo housed the Jackpile Mine for 30 years. The mine was located only 2,000 feet from the Laguna village of Paguate and 24 million tons of ore were mined. Over 90% of the ore went to one source: the U.S. Department of Defense for weapons of mass destruction.

"Not only were we tearing up the earth, but the ore was going to weapons that the United States now has stockpiled all over the world and have not been decommissioned or taken care of," Pino said during the panel. One of the heroes of this movement honored was Dorothy Purley of Paguate village in Laguna Pueblo, an ore truck driver at Jackpile Mine and cancer victim who became a founder of the current Native American movement against uranium mining. Pino said Purley was a victim of lymphoma and passed to the Spirit World in the year 2000, just months after receiving the international Nuclear Free Future Award. She was an inspiration to the Native American movement that now battles uranium mining and educates others.

Pino praised the efforts of Phil Harrison, Navajo from Red Valley, who served on the panel at the Supai gathering. Harrison was instrumental in the congressional passage of the 1990 Radiation Exposure Compensation Act, which compensates victims of the nuclear fuel chain, mainly uranium workers, atomic veterans, and those living downwind from atomic text sites.

Today, Harrison helps Navajo and Pueblo victims file claims and serves as a Navajo councilman. Harrison said his father died at 45 from lung cancer and many of his other family members died. For 30 years Harrison has fought this battle. He said uranium mining brought no benefits to the Navajo Nation. Harrison questioned where the promised high schools and parks are.

"What do we have? We have lung cancer, various illnesses, and birth defects." There is also leukemia and kidney failure. In the hard-hit communities of Cove and Red Valley in the Four Corners region of the Navajo Nation, he said Navajos stopped farming because they feared the radioactive contamination flowing down the mountain with the streams.

Harrison said the companies got off free and were never held responsible because the companies mined the uranium for the U.S. government. He said attempts to file suit against the corporation were met with the response that the uranium was being mined for the U.S. government and nothing could be done. Harrison said that meanwhile the radioactive waste from the nuclear industry winds up back on Indian lands. He said while Native Americans live with the radioactivity, cancer, and death, the corporate owners of mines live in the clean cities, free from contamination.

Larry King, Navajo panelist from the Eastern Navajo Dine' Against Uranium Mining, recently helped organize a 30-year commemoration of the devastating Church Rock, NM spill, whose victims were Navajos. Pino said the Church Rock spill on July 16, 1979, was the largest amount of radiation emitted at one time in the history of the nuclear fuel chain in the United States. Now, 30 years after this nuclear catastrophe, the federal government still has not restored this area where Navajos make their homes, Pino said.

Pino spoke of the Navajo and Pueblo mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, uncles, and aunts who have died or who are now dying of cancer. "It is not a happy story," Pino said. "We are here to stop this nuclear nightmare. As Indigenous Peoples, we are the last ones to be served." Today, there are 550 abandoned uranium mines on the Navajo Nation that have not been cleaned up. "We are a low priority when it comes to the federal government cleaning up these nuclear catastrophes."

Pino said this would never happen if radioactive tailings were strewn in the nearby cities of Albuquerque, Phoenix, or Flagstaff. "Because we are indigenous people, still traditional based and advocating our traditional based-knowledge, we are sometimes considered obstacles, because of our traditional world view to protect Mother Earth."

Carletta Garcia, daughter of Dorothy Purley, told the gathering that she grew up in Paguate, home of the world's largest open-pit uranium mine. She grew up with the deafening sounds and jolts of the constant blasts to loosen the ore. It shook the whole mesa and the radioactive dust would be sprinkled on the eating tables. "We ate it with our lunch."

Garcia said in 1975 her mother began driving an ore truck. The only safety equipment was a safety hat, goggles, and a flashlight. The workers were never told of the dangers of uranium. The tribe thought the mine would bring revenues and wealth. It brought wealth and death. Lagunas did not realize what would happen 30 years later. Garcia's mother was diagnosed with breast cancer in 1993. "We cried, I hugged my mother, I told my mother we are not going to let this take over us, we are going to fight."

"My mother was a real trooper." But her mom also began realizing that other Pueblo people were dying all around her. Her relatives were dying. It was stomach cancer, leukemia, childhood leukemia, and other cancers. Garcia remembered the first day her mother began losing her hair. She took off her red scarf. "Her hair began fluttering with the wind. We cried."

Still, her mother traveled and fought the battle to halt uranium mining and educate other Native Americans. Then one day, Garcia said, "She said it was time to go." Garcia's husband, who grew up in the village, was also diagnosed with a rare skin cancer. Her husband died in 1995, twelve days after being diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. He was 50 years old. Now, Garcia is a widow, and her health is beginning to fail; she said, "I am afraid for my children, I am afraid for your children. We don't need this uranium."

"All of these children here are so precious. I keep watching the children and hoping they will never get sick and never face what I had to, and hoping you young ladies will never be widowed," Garcia told the gathering.

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