GLAMIS, Calif. — Most everyone agrees there is something of enormous importance in this rock-strewn and wind-swept portion of the eastern Imperial Valley bounded by Picacho Peak, Pilots Knob and Muggins Peak.
A Canadian firm believes there is gold buried deep beneath the desert, and it wants permission to create a 1,571-acre open pit mine where 130,000 tons of rock a day would be gouged, blasted and drilled from the earth.
But the Quechan Indian Nation, whose history in the region dates back hundreds of years, believes that something even more valuable than gold lurks here: the religious essence and life force of the tribe. The tribe views the mining proposal as a sacrilege.
"Just because our people did not build a giant cathedral like Europeans doesn't mean the land isn't just as important to our religion," said tribe member Lorey Cachora. "If you destroy the land, you destroy what we believe in, who we are."
This clash between commerce and religion, metallurgy and spirituality has flummoxed the federal Bureau of Land Management, which controls the area.
The dispute marks the first significant test of an executive order issued by President Clinton two years ago requiring federal agencies that oversee the government's vast land holdings to show greater sensitivity to sites held sacred by Native Americans. The bureau has asked for legal guidance from the Department of the Interior, of which it is a part.
"What is decided for the Quechans and Imperial Valley could set precedent for how Native American requests are handled throughout the West and beyond," said Russ Kaldenberg, a bureau archeologist and Native American issues coordinator for California. "What we have here is a clash of two cultures: one modern, one ancient."
The bureau has considerable experience in sorting out the competing interests of the mining industry and the environmental movement. The latter commonly views open pit mining as an ecological abomination.
The Mining Act of 1872, however, tilts heavily toward granting permission for mining on public property if the excavating companies promise to avoid "undue" destruction.
The proposal by Glamis Imperial Corp.--a Nevada corporation whose corporate parent is Glamis Gold Ltd. British Columbia--also has the power of precedence on its side.
The company's plan to coax the gold out by bathing mounds of ore in sodium cyanide involves "heap leaching" technology, which is standard in the industry and is considered safe by the Bureau of Land Management. Glamis Imperial, formerly Chemgold, uses the method at its Picacho mine to the bureau's satisfaction.
The agency has detailed regulations on how to deal with concerns kicked up by mining proposals about air pollution, water pollution, light pollution, noise control, dust control, endangered and/or threatened species, ground water depletion, impacts on wilderness areas, effects on military training grounds, and a great deal more.
For structures or artifacts of historic or archeological significance, the bureau has regulations to determine what must be saved, what can be destroyed and how much "mitigation" must be done elsewhere as compensation.
But the Quechans, whose reservation adjoins the bureau's land, concede that there are no churches, altars or other buildings to attest to their belief that this is a place where they can contact their gods and receive divine inspiration.
Executive Order No. 13007, by Clinton, mandates that agencies dealing with federal land "avoid adversely affecting the physical integrity of . . . sacred sites." But the order also says that a sacred site should be a "specific, discrete, narrowly delineated location."
The land eyed by Glamis Imperial is 45 miles northeast of El Centro and 20 miles northwest of Yuma, Ariz. Native American history teaches that the Creator and two spiritual leaders passed through the region a millennium ago leading several Colorado River tribes on a trek into the interior of what is now Mexico.
Picacho Peak, Pilots Knob and Muggins Peak are each said to be home to the spirit of one of those beings--with a constant flow of energy intermingling in the flatlands bounded by the three points. The area is mentioned repeatedly in Quechan songs.
One of the questions to be pondered by the Interior Department lawyers is whether the seemingly sizable area fits the executive order's definition of a sacred site. "We need guidance," said Tom Zale, a Bureau of Land Management supervisor in the El Centro office.
Peter Nabokov, an associate professor in the American Indian studies program at UCLA who is writing a book on "sacred geography," said the lower Colorado River region is particularly rich in such holy sites.
"We know that Indian history is anchored to a sense of place, what the French call 'sites of memory,' " he said. "When Indians like the Quechans make these claims, these are not spurious claims to rattle the chains of the white man. They're speaking from the heart, from a traditional imperative."
