{"id":1260263,"date":"2023-10-11T08:45:00","date_gmt":"2023-10-11T08:45:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/grist.org\/?p=620046"},"modified":"2023-10-11T08:45:00","modified_gmt":"2023-10-11T08:45:00","slug":"how-efforts-to-protect-an-indigenous-oasis-almost-led-to-its-demise","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/radiofree.asia\/2023\/10\/11\/how-efforts-to-protect-an-indigenous-oasis-almost-led-to-its-demise\/","title":{"rendered":"How efforts to protect an Indigenous oasis almost led to its demise"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
This story is co-published with <\/em>Arizona Luminaria<\/a> and is part of <\/em>The Human Cost of Conservation<\/a>, a Grist series on Indigenous rights and protected areas. This transcript has been edited for length and clarity. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n On a breezy spring day, Lorraine Eiler, a member of the Hia-Ced O’odham tribe, walked with me around the border of Quitobaquito Springs \u2014 a strawberry-shaped oasis in the Sonoran Desert near Pima County, Arizona. Her family has lived in the area for generations. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIf you do research on Quitobaquito, the majority of times you will read about the cattlemen that lived here in the area, about the people that went through Quitobaquito,\u201d she said. \u201cYou hear nothing about the fact that it’s an old Indian village. It was abundant. Now, it’s just \u2026 well, you see what it looks like.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The first thing you notice most about Quitobaquito Springs is the trees. It\u2019s the only source of water for miles in the desert and the lush vegetation around it is stark against the dry tan and khaki landscape and occasional organ pipe cactus. The second thing you notice: the border wall, 30 feet tall, just feet from the water\u2019s edge. I asked Eiler how the landscape compares to her early memories of the site. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cBarren,\u201d she said, \u201cvery, very barren.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n For thousands of years, people have used Quitobaquito as a place to trade, to grow food, and to rest. The springs also provided water for animals in a region where it\u2019s hard to come by. Quitobaquito\u2019s springs are still sacred to O\u2019odham people today and several of Eiler\u2019s relatives, for example, are buried here. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt has always been a place of refuge, a place of survival for anybody and anything that’s ever crossed through that territory,\u201d said Amy Juan, a member of the Tohono O\u2019odham Nation and the Tohono O\u2019odham Hemajkam Rights Network, a collective of college students and youth focused on issues impacting Tohono O\u2019odham peoples.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In the 1900s, the springs and the surrounding area were selected by the U.S. government for conservation and given one of the highest levels of environmental protection in the world. But today, Quitobaquito\u2019s sacred springs are drying up. So what went wrong? <\/p>\n\n\n\n Quitobaquito Springs is part of the O\u2019odham people\u2019s traditional homelands \u2014 especially the Tohono and Hia-Ced O\u2019odham nations. Before it was part of a National Park, before Arizona became a state in 1912, and even before there was an international border, the springs were really more like a marsh. Water flowed into the wetlands, feeding the gardens of squash, corn, and melons in the middle of the desert.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But settlers, warfare, and political decisions in the 1800s dispossessed the O\u2019odham of their lands and carved the region into pieces. First, the U.S.\u2013Mexico border split O\u2019odham communities, separating families and cutting people off from their lands. Decades later, the U.S. government seized O\u2019odham lands by congressional act, and, without a treaty, pushed the Tohono O\u2019odham onto a reservation. Meanwhile, lawmakers created more policies intended to protect Quitobaquito\u2019s fragile ecosystem. In 1937, President Franklin Roosevelt used the newly claimed lands surrounding Quitobaquito Springs to create Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument.<\/p>\n\n\n