Navajo - Hopi War

Charles Scheiner (cscheiner@igc.org)
Mon, 11 Nov 1991 21:10:00 PST


/* Written 12:56 pm Nov 11, 1991 by pacificnews in cdp:pacnews.sample */
/* ---------- "Navajo - Hopi War" ---------- */

COPYRIGHT PACIFIC NEWS SERVICE
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San Francisco, CA 94105
415-243-4364

NEWS ANALYSIS -- 800 WORDS

SEEKING A SETTLEMENT TO NAVAJO-HOPI COLD WAR

EDITOR'S NOTE: As 1991 draws to a close, a settlement to the decades-
old conflict between Hopi and Navajo tribes over Arizona land may be
in sight for the first time. While government intervention only
exacerbated the conflict, negotiations between the two sides may offer a
way out. PNS correspondent Trebbe Johnson, a freelance writer based
in New York, has reported on the Navajo Hopi land dispute for six
years.

BY TREBBE JOHNSON, PACIFIC NEWS SERVICE

The Navajo-Hopi land dispute is a very strange war. Although the
combatants have been at odds for more than 100 years, there has not
been a single casualty.

But what began generations ago as an occasional quarrel over the same
piece of Arizona land between herding and farming families has
escalated into a bitter ideological conflict. Navajos want to be left alone
to practice their ancient cultural traditions while Hopis see the land as
a solution to their economic needs. The Hopis want to introduce
industry, tourism and some coal mining into the area; the Navajos
want to herd sheep and practice the old ceremonies.

In 1974 Washington attempted to resolve the dispute, partitioning the
land and ordering the removal (the "relocation") of 129 Hopis and
more than 10,000 Navajos. The Land Settlement Act has already forced
thousands of Navajo herders into reservation border towns; has left
thousands more homeless; and has cost American taxpayers more than
a quarter of a billion dollars to cover relocation expenses.

The federal government solution has succeeded only in aggravating
the conflict, and now the best hope is that the tribes may reach their
own settlement. Since June 11, representatives from the tribes have
met four times, in Flagstaff, Arizona, and in San Diego. Thus far,
neither side has walked out, although tempers have flared, and each
side has nursed as many fears about the possibility that the negotiations
will succeed as about the possibility they will fail.

Presiding over the negotiations is Federal Magistrate Harry McCue,
who was appointed to the task by a three-judge appellate court. The
Navajo plaintiffs contend that the 1974 federal ruling violates their
constitutional right to free exercise of their religion. They regard the
land as a living, sacred Being whose care was entrusted to them by the
Creator. If forced to relocate, they claim, they will lose the heart of their
spiritual life.

It is no secret, however, that most of the Hopi people are opposed to
any settlement whatsoever because, as former tribal chairman Ivan
Sidney said recently, "What is there to negotiate? It's Hopi land. When
you go to negotiate, you have lost."

Roman Bitsuie, Executive Director of the Navajo-Hopi Land
Commission Office, sees the possibility of a settlement that would
include a land exchange whereby the Navajos would continue to live
on the disputed land and the Hopis, in return, would accept other
Arizona lands from the Navajo tribe.

For their part, the Navajos worry most about what may happen if the
negotiations fail and the federal magistrate rules in their favor. Then,
it is likely that the U.S. government, which is committed to the
relocation program, will appeal the case to the Supreme Court. The
chance of a high court decision favoring Indian people with a
traditional, land-based religious claim is slim.

In the long run, neither the Hopis nor the federal government wants
the task of evicting elderly Navajo sheepherders from their homes.
Just before the 1986 relocation deadline, a Commission staff member
predicted, off the record, that death, illness and utter exhaustion would
eventually take care of the resistance problem. But while it is true that
many elders have died, a younger generation is just as fiercely
committed to preserving the old ways.

For the past few years, the two tribes have eyed each other warily -- not
from opposite sides of a fence, but on the partitioned land that officially
now belongs to the Hopis and where an estimated 1,500 Navajos still live.

Hopi surveyors, road crews, cattle ranchers, economic planners and
homesteaders venture on the land only to be met by Navajos who trail
them in pickups, occasionally allowing rifles to project menacingly
from open windows. Navajos often form human walls in front of
Hopi bulldozers and regularly uproot Hopi fenceposts.

The Hopis in turn keep a close watch on the Navajo families to make
sure they do not violate the federally mandated construction freeze or
exceed the restricted number of livestock they are allowed. Navajos
have received court summonses for building violations only to learn
that their offense was replacing a couple of rails on a dilapidated corral.
The upshot is that nobody gets to use the land in any meaningful way.

As 1991 draws to a close, the possibility of a real settlement is in sight
for the first time. Yet even if the negotiations succeed, both sides will
have to make "horrifying leaps of faith" to make the settlement work,
in the words of one participant. The belief that the land is sacred to
each tribe has so far fueled the conflict; now it may be the only force
that can help the two sides transcend the war.

(11081991) **** END **** COPYRIGHT PNS