ENVIRONMENTAL JUSTICE AND AMERICAN INDIAN TRIBAL SOVEREIGNTY:
CASE STUDY OF A LAND-USE CONFLICT IN SKULL VALLEY, UTAH

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Noriko Ishiyama
Ph.D. Candidate
Rutgers University
Department of Geography
54 Joyce Kilmer Avenue
Piscataway, NJ 08854
E-MAIL: norikoi@eden.rutgers.edu

Acknowledgement: I would to acknowledge the following sources for funding this project: Fulbright All Grant Scholarship, Association of American University Women International Fellowship, Matsushita International Foundation Research Grant, National Science Foundation Doctoral Dissertation Improvement Award, and Rutgers University Dissertation Fellowship. I would like to thank Robert Lake for his guidance to develop this paper and project. Many thanks to Sandra Baptista, Matthew Gandy, Kazuto Oshio, Laura Pulido, Rick Schroeder, Phil Steinberg, Kimberly Tallbear, Mervyn Tano, and Elvin Wyly for their helpful suggestions on earlier drafts. I would also like to thank Mike Davis for providing background information and materials and Mike Siegel for technical assistance. Acknowledging their generous assistance, all shortcomings are the sole responsibility of the author.

(Antipode forthcoming)

Introduction
Since the early 1900s, the Skull Valley Band of Goshute Indians, a small tribe of 124 members in a desolate desert in Tooele County, Utah, has antagonized the governor, politicians, and citizens of Utah, environmentalists, and environmental justice advocates with a proposal to host temporary storage of high-level radioactive waste on the reservation. Having been historically neglected and isolated in what has come to be a toxic desert in northwestern Utah, the Goshute leaders argue that this is the only choice left for the tribe to survive. They emphasize the notion of tribal sovereignty and reject assertions that they are simply the powerless victims of environmental injustice. The current land-use controversy reveals unresolved dilemmas regarding self-determination and environmental justice as they are structured in the capitalist political economy and the history of colonialism.

This paper examines the development of the Skull Valley land-use debate and ultimately poses a challenging question: What is environmental justice in the context of questions of tribal sovereignty? The case study based on archival research and interviews with various players in the conflict challenges the predominant tradition of environmental justice scholarship, which emphasizes the inequitable distribution of hazards in low-income minority communities (Bryant 1995; Bryant and Mohai 1992; Bullard 1990, 1993, 1994). The complicated politics of environmental justice in relation to tribal sovereignty as situated within the history and geography of Skull Valley contradict oversimplified tales of distributive injustice. Rather, political ecological dynamics closely intersect with issues of self-determination and identity formation - at and across different geographic scales - to shape the geography of environmental injustice.

The Skull Valley case study complicates widely accepted understanding of environmental justice. When the Department of Energy (DOE) began looking for a place to site interim storage of high-level radioactive waste, some communities showed interest in accepting the facility in return for economic compensation. The majority of such interested communities have been American Indian tribes. Calling attention to the historical pattern of colonialism, some academics and activists have emphasized the notion of environmental racism in explaining the correlation between the locations of ecological contamination and tribal nations (Churchill 1997; Grinde and Johansen 1995; Laduke 1999; Laduke and Churchill 1992). These writers' contribution to illuminating the environmental and social problems threatening Native America is significant. However, the discourse of environmental racism has a pitfall in that it develops a theory of environmental justice based primarily on the dichotomy of racist white society on the one hand and victimized tribes on the other. Nevertheless, struggles for environmental justice, as they are intertwined with politics of tribal sovereignty and identities developed in a political-geographic context of colonialism, raise a much more complex set of issues.

Early environmental justice literature concerning environmental destruction on tribal lands does not properly address the issue of sovereignty in spite of its significance for achieving social justice for tribes. Some academics even questioned the legitimacy of tribal governments on the grounds that they made harmful environmental decisions for economic benefits (Hall 1994; Shrader-Frechette 1996). In contrast, an American Indian law scholar, Dean Suagee (1994; 1999), harshly criticized some environmental justice advocates for not understanding the unique sovereign status of tribes. Other law scholars have explored the potential conflict between environmental justice advocacy and the tribal governments' protection of their sovereign rights (Foster 1998; Gover and Walker 1992; Louis 1997; Sachs 1996). Without acknowledging the intersection of tribal sovereignty and environmental justice in the context of historical colonialism, environmental justice scholars fail to address the issue of community self-determination, potentially leading to an uneasy relationship between a struggling tribe and environmental justice advocates.

This paper first presents a critical review of the existing scholarly literature of environmental justice to clarify the potential contribution of the study. After a brief discussion of US nuclear waste policies in relation to American Indian tribes, which sets up an analytical basis, this study examines the locational conflict in Skull Valley, Utah. The analysis starts with an introduction of the history of the Skull Valley Goshute tribe as well as the historical geography of Skull Valley as a toxic haven. The overview of peoples and the landscape of Skull Valley establishes a significant context to illustrate the struggles for self-determination at different geo-political scales in relation to the politics of environmental justice, tribal sovereignty, and American Indian identities. The section focused on the pursuit of self-determination examines the politics of tribal sovereignty broadly in the environmental justice movement and then specifically on the Skull Valley land-use debate. The final part of the paper explores the central and yet extremely difficult question: What is environmental justice? The conclusion is not aimed at providing a simple answer but encourages environmental justice scholars to redirect their focus to address historical and structural contexts.

ENVIRONMENTAL JUSTICE RESEARCH
The environmental justice movement pursues a wide range of agendas that have significant implications for politics, legislation, and social activism. The majority of the existing academic literature, however, does not address the political and historical complexity of environmental justice, simplifying activism within a dichotomous framework of environmental racism and/or its focus to a superficial distribution of hazards. The following section critically examines these issues in order to elucidate the significance of 1) developing studies on ideological and structural racism; 2) going beyond the notion of distributive justice; and 3) refining the concept of procedural justice in relation to communities' access to and capacity for self-determination.

The notion of environmental racism requires a critical clarification. As employed in some of the literature, this notion implies the existence of a simple clear dichotomy between racist white society and communities of color, while neglecting the difficult dilemmas regarding serious issues of internal power structure, identity politics, and ideological disparities that confront communities of color. Pulido's (1996 a) critique of the earlier literature is helpful for the reconsideration of environmental racism. She points out the theoretical flaws in simplifying racism as overt actions, neglecting racism as an ideology, and portraying racism as fixed without mobility or change. By contrast, her (2000) own recent study of environmental racism in the context of urban development in Los Angeles illustrates the hegemonic nature of racism, explaining the distinction between racism expressed through direct words and actions, and subtle racism expressed through ideas and structural forces. Studies of environmental justice carry potentials to elaborate the analysis of institutional, ideological, and structural dynamics and practices of racism.

Furthermore, environmental justice studies need to go beyond the concept of distributive justice. The existing scholarship has been dominated by theory of distributive justice, which problematizes the unequal allocation of hazards based on the racial and economic characteristics of communities. This theory avoids issues of social relations and historical, cultural, and ideological contexts that are inherent within capitalist geographies. Moreover, as observed by Dobson (1998: 20), environmental justice scholarship within the framework of distributive justice reduced the concept of environment to be "no more - and certainly no less - than a particular form of the goods and bads that society must divide among its members." The theoretical reduction of the notion of environment made the environmental justice scholarship vulnerable to easy criticism. For example, some academics challenged the environmental justice movement with chicken-and-egg logic according to which the key question becomes: Which came first, the minorities or the facilities (Been 1994; Been and Gupta 1997; Huebner 1998)? Others purport to show that hazardous facilities are not disproportionately located in low-income minority neighborhoods (Anderton et al. 1994, 1997). Rejecting such limited scope of analysis focused on superficial outcome of distribution, recent studies with a critical eye toward political economy articulate the social contexts that underlie and produce environmental justice problems (Faber 1998; Heiman 1996; Lake 1996; Low and Gleeson 1998; Hunold and Young 1998).

In order to clarify the contexts of environmental justice, the concept of procedural justice should be elaborated. Lake (1996: 169) notes that "redistributing outcomes will not achieve environmental justice unless it is accompanied and, indeed, preceded by a procedural redistribution of power in decision-making." Examination of the social processes and the political-economic structure through which communities participate in, or are excluded from, decision-making (for example, in regards to the production, siting, and management of radioactive waste) illustrates the determinants of environmental justice. Moreover, as emphasized by Schroeder (2000), the conception of justice raises a variety of questions with regards to, for instance, rights to livelihood, enhancement of infrastructure for democratic political processes, and acknowledgement of cultural diversity. Accordingly, the notion of procedural justice should convey a broad range of social processes, which develop the scope of communities' rights to self-determination at different geographic scales. The following case study may contribute to the theoretical understanding of environmental justice by elucidating complicated socio-historical and political-economic contexts for the Skull Valley land-use debate.

US NUCLEAR WASTE POLICY AND AMERICAN INDIAN TRIBES
Post-WWII industrial prosperity and the rise of nuclear technology have left American society an unwanted and lethal legacy - radioactive waste, accumulating every day in both military and commercial nuclear sites. Most high-level radioactive waste is produced in commercial power plants, which generate 20 percent of the electricity for the American public.
In the 1970's, a growing sense of urgency finally compelled Congress to address the nuclear waste issue, since it was evident that numerous electric power plants would otherwise have to be closed down. In 1982, Congress passed the Nuclear Waste Policy Act (NWPA), mandating that the DOE find a permanent repository site for spent nuclear fuel. The NWPA authorized the federal government to take responsibility for radioactive waste disposal (Davenport 1993; Raeber 1989). A 1987 amendment to the NWPA terminated the further investigation of potential sites for a permanent high-level radioactive waste repository, except for Yucca Mountain in Nevada. This Congressional decision has been controversial, and Nevadans charge that their state was selected for political rather than scientific reasons. Not surprisingly, the State of Nevada, the Western Shoshone tribe, which has traditionally treasured this region as a sacred place, and environmental and anti-nuclear organizations have vigorously opposed the federal government's political maneuver.

In addition to proposing a permanent disposal site in Nevada, the 1987 act enabled the DOE to build Monitored Retrievable Storage (MRS) facilities for the temporary storage of radioactive waste and spent nuclear fuel. At the same time, the Office of the Nuclear Waste Negotiator (ONWN) was established to find communities that would accept MRS facilities in return for monetary grants. On May 3, 1991, the ONWN sent requests for proposals, including three stages of study grants plus compensation packages, to all states, counties, and 535 federally recognized American-Indian tribes.

The majority of the communities that showed interests in the MRS project were American Indian tribes (Erickson et al. 1995; Sachs 1996). For the Phase I study grant, which provided $100,000 to each community, sixteen tribes and four non-tribal communities applied.1
Two of the non-tribal communities were interested in further study, but state governors issued vetoes to prevent them from doing so.2 Five months after the issue of the Phase I study grant, nine tribes applied for Phase II A study grants of $200,000.3 In August 1993, the Mescalero Apache Tribe of New Mexico and the Fort McDermitt Paiute-Shoshone Tribe of Nevada and Oregon applied for the Phase II B grant which was supposed to offer $2,800,000. However, this grant was never awarded because Congress pulled funding to the ONWN for the 1994 fiscsal year.

The federal government's failure to site an MRS facility under the ONWN project did not prevent the electric utilities from seeking a community to host the radioactive waste facility. Shortly after the DOE's failure to receive adequate funding from Congress, nuclear energy corporations and several tribes began pursuing direct negotiations, unmediated by the federal government. The nuclear power utilities failed in their negotiation with the Mescalero Apache tribe in April 1996. As a result, Private Fuel Storage (PFS), a limited liability company composed of eight electric utilities, started negotiating with the Skull Valley Band of Goshute Indians for a leasing contract to locate an interim storage facility on their reservation in Tooele County, Utah.4 Despite the keen competition for study grants earlier on, the Skull Valley Goshute Indians became by 1996 the only entity still seeking to accept a temporary storage site for commercial high-level radioactive waste.

SKULL VALLEY BAND OF GOSHUTE INDIANS
In the contemporary cultural landscape cultivated predominantly by the Mormon population in Utah, Indian tribes have been the most invisible population. The executive director at the State of Utah Division of Indian Affairs described the invisibility of Utah Indian tribes as follows:
Indians are invisible in Utah. Indians do not even exist here. If you go to
Arizona or New Mexico, for instance, you look at the landscape and you
Can tell that Indians have existed in the past and the present. You can see
that Indians live there. There are Indian articrafts and Indian shops. Here,
you can see only one monolithic cultural landscape dominated by one
religion. People have only superficial and paternalistic understanding of
Indian tribes.

The sanitized landscape of today's Salt Lake City hardly reminds us of Utah's colonial history. In the nineteenth century, Indian tribes were first militarily subjugated and then made the target of Mormon conversion efforts. Since then, the state's Indian tribes have largely been neglected, if not forgotten by Utah political leaders and the general public.
On the other hand, American Indian tribes occupy a significant role in Mormon doctrine. As a Mormon historian, Juanita Brooks (1944: 1), pointed out, "the Mormon philosophy regarding the Indians is unique: the Mormon treatment of their dark-skinned neighbors was determined largely by that ideology." The following quote from The Book of Mormon represents the fundamental core of Mormon ideology with regards to the history and anthropology of American Indians tribes:
And he [Lord God] had caused the cursing to come upon them [Lamanites
(later American Indians)], yea, even a sore cursing, because of their iniquity.
For behold, they had hardened their hearts against him, that they had
become like unto a flint; wherefore, as they were white, and exceedingly
fair and delightsome, that they might not be enticing unto my people the
Lord God did cause a skin of blackness to come upon them. And thus
saith the Lord God: I will cause that they shall be loathsome unto thy
people, save they shall repent of their iniquities…And because of their
cursing which was upon them they did become an idle people, full of
mischief and subtlety, and did seek in the wilderness for beasts of prey
(Nephi 5).

Lamanites represent Euro-American Mormon's lost brothers, who became a "fallen people
Awaiting the arrival of their white brothers who would once again redeem them and make them a great people" (Gottlieb & Wiley 1986: 158). Accordingly, the traditionally indifferent Euro-American attitude towards Indians is, in Mormon Utah, intertwined with a paternalistic and racist philosophy supported in detail by The Book of the Mormon.
The Skull Valley Band of Goshute Indians is a small tribe of 124 members, maintaining an 18,000 acre reservation located approximately 45 miles southwest of Salt Lake City, Utah. Goshute Indians have lived in today's Tooele County since A.D. 1200 (Blanthorn 1998). The harsh environment of the region shielded the tribe from outside influence, encouraging maintenance of traditional life style and, moreover, protecting them from the encroachment of Euro-Americans until large scale Mormon settlement started in the 1840s. Later, in spite of an 1863 treaty which acknowledged the existence of the Skull Valley Band, the federal government tried to relocate the tribe from its territory during the late 19th century to consolidate them with the Confederated tribe of Goshutes in Obapha, which is located at the border of Utah an Nevada, and with the Ute tribe (Crum 1987). As a result of the tribe's resistance to relocation, a 1917 executive order finally approved the Skull Valley Band of Goshute Reservation as an independent tribal nation. The nomadic tribe, who used to roam a wide range of Salt Lake, Tooele, and Skull Valleys, ended up being provided only a small portion of land useless to agricultural settlers.

The Goshutes have been living modest lives, isolated in the arid desert and forgotten by the mainstream society after the initial period of colonization. They used to hunt and gather the limited resourcees available in their homeland, efficiently adjusting to the ecology of the desert and relocating themselves as seasons rotated (Defa 1979). The Euro-American settlement transformed the ecological system of the desert, introducing horses and mules, which overgrazed the grasses, and therefore, lessened the prevalence of seeds which the tribe gathered. Finding hungry Goshutes digging roots from the ground, settlers called them 'diggers.' Other Indian tribes did not acknowledge the Goshutes as equals, either, at Utes used to call them poor people (Papanikolas 1994: 12). Despised, feared, and neglected, Goshutes demanded little from the outside society, living quietly for a long time.
The reservation community, however, has been struggling to survive, suffering the legacies of colonialism. Only twenty-four of the 124 members currently live on the reservation. The reservation has not attracted major business or industry, except for a small Pony Express convenience store and the tribe's leasing contract with a rocket engine testing facility on the reservation. Many have left the reservation, seeking opportunities and jobs elsewhere. The tribal leaders, therefore, have argued that the PFS project may enable the tribe to pursue sustainable development as a united community.

In the 1900's, the Skull Valley Band of Goshutes became significantly more visible due largely to the leaders' declaration to welcome a temporary storage facility for high-level radioactive waste into their reservation. Suddenly, the invisible tribe isolated in a desolate desert presented a political and ecological threat to Utah politicians and the public. The decision to sign a contract with PFS appeared out of the blue for Utah politicians, but for the Skill Valley Goshute tribe, the project was completely consistent with the environmental history of Tooele County, Utah.


TOXIC DESERT: HISTORICAL GEOGRAPHY OF COLONIALISM
The landscape of Skull Valley symbolizes the historical subjugation of people and the environment pursued within a capitalist political economy by federal and state governments as well as by commercial industry. Skull Valley and Tooele County as a hole first became home to ecologically undesirable facilities in the post-WWII period.6 A rancher living next to the Goshute Indian Reservation called his homeland "a toxic box."7 Mike Davis (1998: 35) described Tooele County as the "nation's greatest concentration of hyper-hazardous and ultra-deadly materials." Sociologist Valerie L. Kuletz (1998) illustrated the federal government's creation of "national sacrifice zones" in the American West for the purpose of fulfilling the military and industrial interests over those of local communities. In her analysis, Tooele County occupies a significant part of this sacrificed geography.

Several federal military territories surround the Skull Valley Goshute Reservation. Open-air nerve agent tests, as well as chemical and biological weapon tests and incineration have been conducted on these military reserves. The Deseret Chemical Depot in Tooele County stores 768,400 artillery shells filled with sarin gas, 29,600 artillery shells of mustard gas, and 22,700 land mines filled with VX gas (Center of the American West 1997: 136). As indicated by Kevin Fedarko (1999: 117), the Pentagon estimates that a serious accident could kill as many as 89,000 people in the surrounding area. In 1968, more than six thousand sheep died after a nerve gas leak from an airplane conducting open-air experiments with hazardous chemical and biological agents; their dead bodies were buried in the reservation territory.

Seeking to promote job growth and increase revenues, both Tooele County and the State of Utah host numerous environmental hazards in the region. Commercial facilities, including hazardous waste incinerators and low-level radioactive and mixed waste disposal facilities, are located in the vicinity of the reservation. According to environmental law scholar Michael Gerrard (1995), Tooele County commissioners allowed chemical weapons to be incinerated in the Tooele Army Depot in exchange for twenty million dollars to build a hospital. They also established the West Desert Hazardous Industry Area, which "created more than nine hundred new jobs and brings in $2 million in annual 'mitigation' fees, which have allowed the county to freeze its property taxes" (119). The State of Utah supported this zoning project in the early 1980's in order to relocate uranium tailings from densely populated Salt Lake County to the barren desert in Tooele County.

Tooele County politicians have been consistent with the county's previous
environmental policy, encouraging the PFS project to move forward. In the beginning, county commissioners did not openly make public statements concerning the Goshute project but, apparently, they were trying to get a contract of their own with PFS. In May, 2000, the commissioners signed an agreement with PFS, which would provide the county up to three hundred million dollars. According to an article published in The Salt Lake Tribune, one of the commissioners explained that the commission would ot be able to prevent the facility from coming and, therefore, they agreed to get a deal which would provide the county with some legal and financial rights (Fahys 2000). The county became entitled to receive lucrative financial benefits, while asserting that public safety would be its highest priority.
The existing waste and military facilities have caused serious pollution problems, while also providing some short-term economic benefits. According to Chip War (Nuclear
Regulatory Commission 1998), the spokesperson for a local environmental advocacy group, West Desert HEAL, MagCorp's magnesium refinery in Tooele County emits 85 percent of the point source chlorine gas emitted in the nation. "More than 33 pounds of toxic pollution per capita is emitted each year in Utah," he points out, "compared to a national average of just under 6 pounds per capita a year" (Nuclear Regulatory Commission 1998). Since the facilities provide tremendous economic benefits, these facilities have been tolerated and even sought after by local municipalities.

In the decision-making processes that have resulted in a contaminated Tooele environment, neither the federal nor the state governments invited the participation of the Goshute Indian Tribe. The desert was seen as desolate and its residents were invisible to
policy-makers at larger geographic and political scales. Skull Valley Goshute chairman pointed out the exclusion of the tribe in the spatial construction of environmental injustice as follows:
"They've never asked us for our permission when they built all these facilities around our reservation."8 The tribe's distrust of outside communities has therefore grown severe, which in the end causes the Skull Valley Band to be even more politically isolated.
In keeping with the political tactic of the federal and state governments, Goshute leaders did not consult with any neighboring communities in the process of developing the plan to host a temporary storage of high-level radioactive waste. As a result, the tribe has encountered harsh objections from the State of Utah, environmentalists, environmental justice advocates, other American Indian tribes and organization, and even some of its own members. Despite its notorious environmental policies, some of the strongest opposition to the Goshute tribal project has come from the state government. Governor Mike Leavitt issued a state executive order in April, 1997, creating a task force opposed to the PFS facility. At the same time, he established the Office of High-Level Nuclear Waste Storage Opposition within the Utah Department of Environmental Quality (DEQ). Since then, Leavitt has been pursuing an "over-my-dead-body" policy to prevent high-level radioactive waste storage.

The governor and other Utah Policy makers resent that the State of Utah has been excluded from the environmental decision-making processes developed at both tribal and federal levels. Since federally recognized Indian tribes have environmental regulatory authority over their own land, the state does not have jurisdiction within the Skull Valley Goshute Reservation. Not having any legal authority over the tribe's political and environmental decision-making processes has troubled Utah political leaders. In addition, the history of Utah's exclusion from nuclear policies goes back to the 1950s, when the US military's nuclear bombing tests in Nevada were conducted only when the wind was blowing in the direction of Utah. As a result, Southern Utah citizens have been victimized by the Cold War defense policies of the US government and suffer high rates of cancer and reproductive problems (Ball 1986, Fuller 1984).

The history of nuclear weapon tests and the downwinders, described by regional writer Terry Tempest Williams (1991) as the painful experiences of the "Clan of One-Breasted Women," have quite reasonably made Utah policy makers extremely sensitive toward nuclear facilities. Chip Ward (1999) witnessed Utah policy makers sharing their personal stories of losing relatives from cancer at the Utah Legislature meeting in 1998. Indeed, the governor himself has experienced such pain and has developed strong suspicion toward the federal government. He stated: "I am from there [Southern Utah]. They [people from the federal government] told us that it was safe. It was clearly not safe. I saw my schoolmates dying from cancer and leukemia. Herds of sheep dies in one day."9 Behind the strong testimonies
of the governor as he protested the PFS nuclear waste facility lie Utah's historical antipathy towards federal nuclear policies that have sacrificed Mormon downwinders to the national interest.

The historical geography of Tooele County and the State of Utah as a whole, reflecting years of mass destruction and exploitation of the environment, including peoples and societies, provides the context for the contested political ecology and the pursuit of environmental justice. Having witnessed Tooele County's environmental history of colonialism, the Skull Valley Goshute tribal leaders realize that Utah politicians have adamantly fought against their project for political rather than ecological concerns. The tribe's decision to welcome nuclear waste has raised difficult issues involving environmental justice, tribal sovereignty and retention of Goshute community and identity, the state government's gear of not having control over tribal land and its resentment against federal nuclear policies, the federal government's legal responsibility to find a dumping place for nuclear waste, friction among tribal members, and the political ecology of the production of nuclear waste.

STRUGGLES FOR SELF-DETERMINATION AND THE POLITICS OF TRIBAL SOVEREIGNTY
In addition to the paradoxical dynamics cultivated in the historical geography of colonialism, the Skull Valley locational conflict conveys challenging questions for the environmental justice movement with its complex politics of tribal sovereignty. In order to explicate tensions over rights to tribal sovereignty and their social as well as ethical implications, this section illustrates 1) the politics of tribal sovereignty in the environmental justice movement and 2) struggles over tribal sovereignty and environmental justice specifically in the Skull Valley land-use dispute.

Politics of tribal sovereignty in the environmental justice movement
The concept of tribal sovereignty has essentially defined the politics regarding struggles for self-determination among actors involved with the Skull Valley environmental management as well as the siting of environmental hazards in tribal nations in the United States. Sovereignty recognized by treaties and the United States constitution does not represent something given to the tribe but rather is what tribes have retained throughout the tragic history of colonialism. As Deloria and Lytle (1998) state, self-government of tribes has been "a product of the historical process" required for tribal political survival. Retention of sovereignty, therefore, means the survival of tribes, which hold unique legal and political status as independent nations within the United States.
American Indian activists engaged in the environmental justice movement have
explicitly addressed the importance of sovereignty (Pulido 1996b). They participated in the process of drafting Principles of Environmental Justice during the first National People of Color Environmental Leadership Summit in 1991. Principle 11 (Newton 1996: 156-158) makes a clear statement: "Environmental justice must recognize a special legal and natural relationship of Native People to the U.S. government through treaties, agreements, compacts, and covenants affirming sovereignty and self-determination." This principle emphasizes the significance of sovereignty which makes American Indian tribes distinctive from other ethnic minorities fighting against environmental injustice in terms of the political strategy for activism.

Environmental justice activists have demanded that tribes get appropriate federal assistance in order to establish infrastructure equivalent to that of state governments to develop sound environmental programs to protest outside industry's attempt to damage the ecology of tribal land. The director of the Indigenous Environmental Network, Tom Goldtooth (1995), pointed out that the EPA had failed to acknowledge the sovereign status of tribal governments entitled to receive funds to develop environmental management of their own until 1984. Consequently, he clarified that most tribes were severely behind state governments in environmental infrastructure development (147). Grassroots activists hold a strong conviction to protect tribal sovereignty, struggling to develop the political-economic and legislative infrastructure for participatory democracy.
At the same time, American Indian activism for social and environmental justice faces a challenging question over who has legitimate rights to realize tribal sovereignty. Grassroots environmental activists tend to question the legitimacy of tribal representatives when they do not share the same ecological philosophies. Goldtooth revealed an ideological and political disagreement over tribal sovereignty among indigenous communities: "We as indigenous grassroots are the most protective of our sovereignty and do not hide behind it or use it as a cloak or shield like some of our Tribal governmental leaders. Some of our Tribal leaders use sovereignty to protect them from criticism or legal attack on tribal developments that are environmentally unsound."10 Grace Thorpe (1996), another key American Indian figure in the environmental justice movement, criticized tribal leaders who support nuclear waste sites in Indian nations for "selling our sovereignty." While recognizing the significance of protecting tribal sovereignty from various outside threats, tribal and grassroots leaders hardly share a consensus on the strategic process to fortify it.

Some indigenous grassroots activists have adopted the romanticized ethnic identity of American Indians as stewards of the environment for the purpose of justifying their right to self-determination in environmental management. They have utilized what Pulido (1998) calls "ecological legitimacy" rooted in cultural essentialism to empower and establish solidarity in the movement. Tom Goldtooth asserted: "There are ideological differences with the mentality of our Indian 'relatives' who have decided to follow the 'American dream.' The American dream is about money and power. It is about owning the land….Indigenous Peoples don't think this way. We are only caretakers of this great sacred land."11 Cultural essentialism in the formation of American-Indian identities has played a significant role in developing the environmental justice movement. Nevertheless, it has promoted the problematic generalization of a culturally diverse population according to the stereotype and dismissed voices of those who do not share the same ecological views. This tension concerning tribal sovereignty intertwined with the definition of American-Indian ethnic identities establishes the context of intensified political battles concerning the Skull Valley land-use debate.

Struggles over tribal sovereignty and environmental justice in the Skull Valley conflict
In the Skull Valley land-use debate, struggles for self-determination intertwined with the politics of tribal sovereignty and Goshute ethnic identity contain the potential to clash with the agenda of the environmental justice movement. The Goshute tribal leaders have explicitly expressed their apprehension regarding the paternalistic implications suggested by environmental justice advocates that Goshutes have been the victims of environmental injustice. Instead, they have emphasized the tribe's capacity for environmental management and its right to self-determination based on tribal sovereignty. The Skull Valley Goshute Tribe Executive Office (1995: 66) published a forceful statement arguing that "the charges of 'environmental racism' and the need to 'protect' and 'save' us smack of patronism. This attitude implies we are not intelligent enough to make our own business and environmental decisions." Their position contradicts the stereotype of American Indians as helpless victims and claims that the tribe is in charge of the use of their land.

Tribal identity politics intertwined with the process of defining sovereignty has clearly influenced the environmental decision-making of the Skull Valley Goshutes. The leaders' demand for political acknowledgement of sovereignty has been a principle step in tribal identity formation. The New York Times reported a sensational remark made by the tribal chairman: "I don't belong to two nations. I belong to one - the Skull Valley Goshute Nation" (Egan 1998). The strength of his identity as a Goshute citizen has influenced his use of tribal sovereignty: "We are alive and well and a sovereign nation. And we're using that sovereignty to attract the only business we can get to come here" (Egan 1998). The tribe's utilization of sovereignty for a business deal contradicts the socially constructed image of American Indians as perfect preservationists.

Not everyone in the tribe, however, shares the ideology of the tribal leaders. Opponents within the tribe have utilized the perspective of indigenous ecology and environmental justice to justify their position as traditionalists opposed to tribal leaders. Margene Bullcreek, identifying herself as a tribal traditionalist organized an opposing group in 1997. With financial support from the State of Utah, another antagonist, Sammy Blackbear, has iniitiated litigation against the Bureau of Indian Affairs, which has approved the governance of the present leadership. Similar to Bullcreek, Blackbear stresses his spiritual tie with the Goshute land, which has held sacred meaning to him and his family.

Identity politics and the social process of defining the meaning of tribal sovereignty
Have played significant parts in the development of political actions pursued by tribal members with distinct beliefs. The opponents have different visions of tribal sovereignty than do their leaders. Bullcreek explained her perception of sovereignty as follows: "Sovereignty means who we are. We need to protect who we are. Our tribal leaders are taking traditional cultures away from us, using the corporation language. They are taking away some spirit, which has always been in the tribe."12 Although she considers the maintenance of sovereignty important, she is fundamentally against the PFS-tribal project to host nuclear waste.

In contrast to the tribal leaders, the Goshute opponents have been networking broadly with grassroots environmental justice groups and individual activists, including the Indigenous Environmental Network and Grade Thorpe, to confront tribal leaders' policies. The opponents' claims to represent the traditional Goshutes entitled to rights to defend ancestral land parallels the position of graddroots activists in the national environmental justice movement. The philosophical differences within the tribe and the contradictory relationship developed between various tribal members and the environmental justice advocates have made the Skull Valley land-use conflict even more difficult to resolve.
The issue of tribal sovereignty in Skull Valley has played a crucial role in determining the relationship between the tribe and the State of Utah. In spite of its notorious environmental history, the State of Utah has adamantly opposed the Goshute-PFS project. The tribe has been frustrated that the State has tried to intervene in the PFS project on the reservation, even though the state has no legal authority. As the tribal chairman argued: "The reservation isn't part of Utah. Utah doesn't tax it, and has no business on it unless we invite them. Utah has to understand our position as a sovereign nation" (Fedarko 1999: 122).
The political representatives from the State of Utah, however, have little understanding
of the complex meanings and practices of trial sovereignty. For example, a Republication Congressman from Utah, Merril Cook, has opposed the tribal project, arguing that "something is dead wrong when a small group of people can ignore the will of 90 percent of our state….I
don't think this is what the Founding Fathers had in mind (Egan 1998). It's just not right, this use of sovereignty. The implications are frightening for us as a nation." Cook's attack on
tribal sovereignty illustrates the classic conflict between state governments and tribes over the control of policy making on tribal land.

Ironically enough, Utah state officials have used the notion of environmental justice to justify their opposition against the PFS-tribal project. Governor Leavitt, testifying at a hearing organized by Merril Cook in December 1997, stated that "PFS's site selection process does not meet the demands of the President's Executive Order No. 12898 regarding environmental justice." The executive director of the Utah Department of Environmental Quality, attending the public hearing organized by the NRC on June 2, 1998, asserted that the Skull Valley project is ethically unjust. The political use of environmental justice language by state policy makers disregards Skull Valley Goshute tribal sovereignty, striking at the most fundamental principle of tribal justice. In addition, the State of Utah's opposition to the PFS facility is clearly inconsistent with its previous policy on environmental hazards in Tooele County. The debate over tribal sovereignty and its implications for the land-use debate illustrates the state government's hypocrisy and its veiled agenda to erode tribal sovereignty to get tribal land under its control.

CONCLUSION: WHAT IS ENVIRONMENTAL JUSTICE?
The Skull Valley case study entails a far more intricate story that that presented in the majority of existing literature dominated by analytical frameworks of environmental racism and distributive environmental justice. The historical colonialism grounded in the Skull Valley landscape has structurally limited the capability of the tribe to achieve economic and environmental self-determination. Conflict over the definition and practice of tribal sovereignty at different geographic scales reveal the social, historical, and political-economic complexity of environmental justice, while implicating structural influences in both the production and distribution of nuclear waste and the economic survival strategies available to the Skull Valley Band of Goshute Indians.

Within the contexts of colonialism and the politics of tribal sovereignty, it is not
Possible to conclude that actually siting the PFS facility on the Skull Valley reservation means that justice will have been achieved for the tribe simply because the tribe made the decision in its sovereignty capacity. Instead, the following question needs to be answered: In what context has the tribe made the decision to accept high-level radioactive waste?

The inevitable answer is that a prolonged process of historical colonialism over people and land has produced a landscape of injustice in which the tribe'' choices have been severely structurally limited. Even if the tribe makes an informed decision to host the PFS facility, working from consensus among tribal leaders reached through a democratic process, they never participated in the decision-making process leading to production of nuclear waste or leading to the absence of alternate means of economic survival in the desert landscape. Lack of economic autonomy due largely to the protracted environmental degradation of Skull Valley has prevented the tribe from pursuing robust political-economic sovereignty as an indigenous nation.
Whether the tribe ends up hosting high-level radioactive waste on the reservation or not, therefore, this land-use conflict represents procedural environmental injustice conditioned by Skull Valley's historical geography.

The Skull Valley land-use debate reveals theoretical defects in the predominant discourses of environmental racism and distributive environmental justice, raising significant conceptual questions. As indicated in this case, it is not necessarily useful to prove the racist intention on the part of electric utilities and the federal government to site nuclear waste on the tribal reservation. The disenfranchisement of the tribe through institutional exclusion and isolation in the environmental decision-making processes indicates the structural aspects of racism embedded in hegemonic ideologies. Rather than seeking equity in the distribution of hazards or eliminating intentional racist actions, therefore, environmental justice requires the participation of communities in various decision-makings, which are conditioned by and intertwined with the political-economic processes and social relations at different geographical scales. In the context of Indian Country, environmental justice depends on the tribes' sovereign capacity to pursue politically, economically, and ecologically sound options for sustainable development. Accordingly, reinforcement of both political and economic sovereignty of tribes will lead to the long-term accomplishment of environmental justice.
There exists no easy answer to resolve the Skull Valley conflict concerning the siting of high-level radioactive waste. Making a simple judgement regarding environmental justice
Solely in the context of the present siting of the PFS facility leads us nowhere. This paper does not provide specific suggestions to resolve the immediate conflict, which is complicated by a variety of difficult historical, social, and political-economic questions. Instead, environmental justice scholars are encouraged to reframe their research questions to articulate the truly complex practices of political economy and historical colonialism over communities' struggles for self-determination. The landscape and the peoples, who play active roles in the Skull Valley conflict, would not then be subject to the influence of simplistic analyses of environmental justice that have so far restricted the terms of this debate.

For notes and references please download the MS Word format of this study.

 

 

Rutgers Cooperative Extension

Please send comments and corrections to:
Priscilla Hayes, Environmental Coordinator, Cook College/NJAES
C/O Department Of Agricultural, Food And Resource Economics
Rutgers University--Cook College
55 Dudley Road
New Brunswick, NJ 08901-8520
Telephone: (732) 932-9155, ext.233
Fax:  (732) 932-8887
Email:  hayes@aesop.rutgers.edu
Supported with funding from the New Jersey Agricultural Experiment Station.
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