HOPI PARTITIONED LANDS, Ariz. - For more than a
century, the Navajo and Hopi Indian tribes have been battling over
the rights to this desert land.
Since 1882, when
President Chester A. Arthur set aside reservation land for the
Hopis that was already inhabited by Navajos, the issue of who
belongs here has soured relations between the
tribes.
A 1974 congressional act that divided
nearly 2 million acres shared by the tribes did little to resolve
the matter. Most of the Navajos and all Hopis living in the area
have moved. Some 250 traditional Navajo families claiming religious
ties to the land refuse to relocate, however, locking the tribes in
bitter stalemate.
But now a settlement of the
conflict may be under way.
A vast majority of the
Navajo families remaining on Hopi land have accepted a lease
agreement that would let them stay where they are. The ratification
by 82 percent of the families who voted on the issue late May is a
major breakthrough in a three-year settlement effort, and possibly
a historic turning point in the longstanding
dispute.
"People are very tired," says Betty Tso,
who lives with her Navajo family in Mosquito Springs in the
northern part of the Hopi reservation. "The living situation is so
bad and so deteriorated at this point that people want change."
Tso was referring to the court-ordered building
freeze that has hampered development in the disputed area for
several decades. Many Navajos live cramped into small, patched-up
quarters that would remind one of Third World shantytown dwellings
were they not surrounded by endless range, canyons and big
sky.
"I feel the Hopis have come a long way," Tso
says of the Hopi lease offer.
Frances Bahe of
Teesto, a mainly Navajo community in the southeastern corner of the
Hopi nation, wants a better future for her children and
grandchildren.
"You think of what we've been
going through, how long we've been suffering for - we want this
stopped somehow," Bahe says.
Under the lease
agreement, each family would be given a three-acre home site with
additional land for farming and grazing. The lease would be part of
a settlement hammered out by attorneys for the families, the two
tribes and the federal government.
A final
settlement package, which must be approved by Congress, could
involve compensation to the Hopi Tribe worth millions of dollars
and thousands of acres in northern Arizona.
Peter
Steenland, who heads the federal mediation team, says the U.S.
Department of Justice expects to start negotiating compensation for
the Hopis with the two tribes later this
summer.
An earlier, highly controversial deal
that collapsed last year offered the Hopis $15 million and nearly
half a million acres of public and private land in northern
Arizona. The plan caused an outcry among non-Indians, who pledged
to fight any transfer of public land to an Indian
tribe.
Steenland says the framework of that plan
will still be used, albeit with certain changes and with plenty of
input from the Arizona public.
It's not a
surprise the Hopi Tribe is looking for more
land.
For a century now, the Hopis have sought to
regain land they say is rightfully theirs. Encircled by the large
Navajo reservation, the now 10,000-member tribe says it's fighting
for cultural survival.
Members of the Hopi Tribe,
a tight-knit and highly religious pueblo people, perform their
ancient rain ceremonies on dusty plazas that are hundreds of years
old. From their villages atop three mesas, they have a grand view
of the land area that more recently has become home also to the
Navajos.
Although intermarriage between the
tribes is common, Hopis will often speak with bitterness about what
they see as Navajo infringement on Hopi life and
culture.
"The United States and Navajo Nation
have worked to take away our aboriginal land base," Hopi Chairman
Ferrell Secakuku said in a statement last month. "Over time the
land we have been allowed has shrunk from 17 million to 1.5 million
acres. Their actions have not changed our birthright."
Like the Hopis, the Navajo relocation resisters
claim religious ties to the land where they graze their sheep,
gather herbs and perform ceremonies. To break up and move from the
place where your umbilical cord is buried and the bones of your
ancestors rest is worse than dying, traditional Navajos
explain.
Tso says it's time to move beyond the
squabble of who arrived in northern Arizona first and recognize
that both tribes have rights to the land. That requires a mutual
learning process that goes beyond signing papers, she
adds.
"This is not about whose religion is
greater, it's about accommodating one another," she
says.
The parties' willingness to seek a
compromise comes as a bittersweet victory for Lee Phillips, a
Flagstaff attorney who has spent the past three years negotiating
an alternative to forced relocation.
Phillips
came to Arizona fresh out of law school in the early 1980s to
devote his time to the relocation dilemma. He believes his Navajo
clients don't have much of a choice at this
point.
Several attempts to get the Hopis to agree
to a land exchange that would place all Navajo communities on the
Hopi reservation under Navajo jurisdiction have failed. Efforts to
repeal the 1974 Navajo-Hopi Land Settlement Act, known as the
relocation act, were also unsuccessful.
Unless
the parties can agree on a settlement that keeps the disputed lands
under Hopi control, his clients can look forward to a long
litigation process that probably would not offer anything better
than what they already have, Phillips
says.
"There are always going to be hurdles when
you're dealing with three governments and 300 individual families,"
he says, "but I have to feel there's a way to get this thing
resolved."
* Karin
Schill
Karin Schill writes in
Flagstaff, Arizona.





