Trump wall sows seeds of an Indian uprising
A Native American tribe says it will do whatever it takes to stop its ancient reservation being divided
Verlon Jose knew nothing of borders until he was a teenager. The American Indian’s grandparents had a summer ranch in the hills of Arizona and a winter ranch a few miles south, in Mexico’s state of Sonora. But to him, the difference was purely academic: he and his family would travel freely across the tribal lands their ancestors had lived on for thousands of years.
So when a president was elected on a promise to build “a big, beautiful wall” right across the heart of the Tohono O’odham reservation, a line in the sand was drawn.
“This could be the last of the Indian Wars,” the 50-year-old vice-chairman of the 34,000-strong Tohono O’odham Nation said as he warned Donald Trump of an American Indian uprising.
All 567 tribes that make up the National Congress of American Indians have pledged to do whatever it takes to stop the 30ft barrier severing the ancient reservation in two.
“The tribal leaders said you call us, and we’ll come. You lay one brick, they said, and we’ll come.”
Since October, eight wall prototypes have been standing in San Diego, and in late November border patrol officials began “stress testing” the structures with shovels, saws, grappling irons, jackhammers and ropes. Agents were photographed hurling themselves at the walls, trying to heave themselves up, over and across. A decision on which wall performed best from the $20 million prototype programme is expected early this year.
The funding for the full 2,000 miles, however, is far more contentious – despite Mr Trump appearing to now accept that some sections of it are impossible to build upon.
Mr Trump said on the campaign trail that it could be built for between $8 billion and $12 billion. The department of homeland security now estimates the construction to cost $21.6 billion, but Senate Democrats put the total at more than three times that – nearly $70billion, with an additional $150million a year in maintenance.
If it does go ahead, it will cut off the 15,000 Tohono American Indians on the Sonoran side from their ancestors in the north.
“I say, in the spirit of my elders, over my dead body,” Mr Jose said. “It’s already a scar on our people. I can’t imagine waking up and seeing a wall here. I would die. This is already a line across my heart. And this sentiment has been echoed by many others in my community.”
Back on the border, less than 50 yards from the rails, on the Mexican side, a young couple in camouflage clothing are trekking through the mesquite shrubs; the girl, who gives her age as 15, is evidently pregnant.
“We’re just going for a walk,” they reply when asked where they are heading.
Richard Saunders, director of the Nation’s department of public security, laughs. His 90 police officers patrol the 77 villages in the Nation; in 2017 alone they found 43 dead migrants in abandoned houses and among the undergrowth.
“There is not one community that isn’t impacted by the border, in one way or other,” he said. “It could be smugglers passing through with backpacks full of drugs. Or illegal aliens. It could be the border patrol circulating. Ranchers finding their fences cut. People sheltering the illegals, for money, or getting involved in the smuggling themselves.”
And yet, living and breathing the border, wanting to keep his community safe, he thinks the proposed wall is nonsensical.
“And I don’t think it will be built,” he said. “Maybe a bit in California or Texas. But here? The geography is impossible, and there’s just too much opposition.”
Daniel Hernandez is a 36-year-old border patrol agent working from the Tucson sector – the largest in the country, with a region that encompasses the 4,000 square miles of the Tohono reserve.
He says relations with the members of the Tohono nation are good, and a wall is not necessarily the answer to problems on the border.
“We work together,” he said. “It’s a relationship of mutual respect. And they don’t want to see drug smugglers walking through
‘I say, in the spirit of my elders, over my dead body. It’s already a scar on our people’
their land, recruiting their young people, any more than we do. There’s a lot of talk about the wall, of course. But it’s not a one-size-fits all policy. It has to be used strategically. At times, it’s better to have more patrols, perhaps, or use the latest technology.” Mr Trump has certainly done nothing to endear himself to American Indian populations. In November, at a White House event to honour the last remaining Navajo Code Talkers, the billionaire businessman cracked a crass joke about how he referred to Senator Elizabeth Warren as “Pocahontas” – a jibe at the Democrat for once saying she had American Indian blood. Tribal people were dumbfounded.
“It was very disrespectful,” said Mr Jose. “Everybody was talking about it at the grocery store. You hurt one of us, you hurt us all.”
Mr Jose will not say what legal measures the tribe are preparing. He laughs, saying that, like Mr Trump, he prefers to keep his strategy silent. “The Great Wall of China. The Berlin Wall. Tell me if they have been successful? Research tells me that they have not. So why would we want to spend $30$70billion of taxpayers’ money on something that would not be effective?
“I’m making a plea to Donald Trump: come, and walk the 62 miles with me. Then you will see why this is such a bad idea.”