Tonatierra founder and Indigenous rights 'warrior' Tupac Enrique Acosta dies at 71
The Salt River Memorial Hall is not usually open to non-tribal members of the Salt River Pima-Maricopa Indian Community, but a rare exception was made to honor global Indigenous rights advocate Tupac Enrique Acosta, who died Nov. 9 at the age of 71.
Hundreds of people attended a memorial ceremony on Nov. 18 to pay tribute to Enrique Acosta, a founder of the Phoenix-based Tonatierra center, who also waged battles against former Maricopa County Sheriff Joe Arpaio's immigration policies as well as Senate Bill 1070, Arizona's sweeping 2010 immigration enforcement law.
The cause of death was complications from cancer, friends said.
Born in San Antonio of Mexican heritage, Enrique Acosta identified as Izkaloteka, descendants of the Mexica Indigenous people of modern-day Mexico and the Southwestern U.S.
Fit from years of spiritual running, Enrique Acosta had movie star good looks until a battle with throat cancer ravaged his body 15 years ago. He also possessed a quiet charisma, yet friends described him as a humble force who dedicated his life to protecting the Earth and advocating for Indigenous rights without wanting to draw attention to himself. He also served as a bridge between Indigenous peoples in the U.S. and Canada with Indigenous peoples in Mexico and Central America, they said.
Decades ago, Enrique Acosta legally changed his first name to Tupac after Tupac Amaru, the Inca ruler who fought the Spanish conquest in the 16th century. Enrique Acosta also used the traditional name Huehuecoyotl, a Nahuatl word meaning ancient coyote, after the Aztec deity, according to friends.
In addition to English and Spanish, Enrique Acosta also learned Nahuatl, the Aztec language he studied for years with the help of a teacher from Guerrero, Mexico, said Eve Reyes-Aguirre, who worked alongside him for more than two decades at Tonatierra.
Enrique Acosta loved strong black coffee, said Reyes-Aguirre. He brewed coffee by the pot to power him through long days of work at Tonatierra but also to remind him of the Mayan struggle for Indigenous rights in Chiapas, Mexico, where he visited often, she said.
When he found food lacking in spice, Enrique Acosta pulled out dried chiltipin chilies or fresh jalapeno or serrano peppers, which he grew in his garden and always carried in his pocket, Reyes-Aguirre said.
After moving to San Diego his senior year in high school and then later to Phoenix in the late 1970s, Enrique Acosta connected with the O'odham people whose ancestors have lived in what is now the Phoenix area since time immemorial.
A 'warrior' for all Indigenous peoples
After his death, his family requested an outdoor ceremony be held at the Huhugam Heritage Center, part of the Gila River Indian Community, home to the Akimel O'odham people. But, due to a forecast of rain, the ceremony was moved to the larger Salt River Memorial Hall, which required the approval of tribal leaders of the Salt River Pima-Maricopa Indian Community, which is also composed of Akimel O'odham and Piipaash peoples.
"Typically, if you're not O'odham, it's rare that we allow access to non-O'odham or non-tribal community members to have spaces like that within our community," said Shannon Rivers, a member of the Gila River Indian Community who served as a go-between.
Holding the ceremony at the Salt River Memorial Hall demonstrated the respect O'odham people held for Enrique Acosta as an ally and collaborator in the fight for Indigenous rights, Rivers said.
"He was a warrior for our people. For not just the O'odham people, but for all Indigenous people," Rivers said.
Seven staffs with eagle feathers were placed at the front of an altar and a medicine man opened the ceremony with a prayer and a blessing, Rivers said.
Between 300 and 400 people attended the ceremony, which lasted more than six hours, Rivers said.
Family members and friends took turns remembering Enrique Acosta's life, Rivers said.
Indigenous leaders from all over the U.S. and Mexico attended the ceremony, among them Sid Hill, the Tadodaho, or traditional leader of the Haudenosaunee, also known as the Iroquois Confederacy, and 93-year-old Oren Lyons, faithkeeper of the Turtle Clan of the Onondaga Nation in New York State, who gave the eulogy, Rivers said.
Enrique Acosta developed friendships with Hill and Lyons in the 1990s, creating the framework of the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, adopted in 2007, said Reyes-Aguirre, the organizer at Tonatierra.
Salvador Reza met Enrique Acosta in 1992 while participating in a "peace and dignity" run that started in Tok, Alaska, and ended in Teotihuacan, Mexico, to unite Indigenous peoples and counter the 500th anniversary of the arrival of Europeans in the Americas.
Enrique Acosta ran alongside Reza and the other runners for a several-mile stretch through Tolleson in the scorching August heat while providing support for the runners. The encounter changed Reza's life, he said.
At the time, Reza was working as a community organizer in Los Angeles after leaving a Ph.D. program in political science. He was overweight, out of shape and drank heavily. He recalls being impressed by Enrique Acosta's running abilities. But even more, Reza was inspired by Enrique Acosta's consciousness of his Indigenous identity and his knowledge of Indigenous traditions and teachings.
"I was impressed. I was really impressed by what he was saying," Reza said. "He was speaking with a lot of conviction and depth of knowledge, and I was hungry for knowledge."
After completing the run, Reza called Enrique Acosta.
"I said that I wanted to come and work at Tonatierra, and I asked if there was any work. He told me, 'Yeah, there is a lot of work, but there's no money.' So I said, 'I'll be there in a week.'"
Reza has worked at Tonatierra ever since and helped lead the organization's battles against Arpaio's immigration sweeps, SB 1070 and other immigration policies.
"He taught me a lot of the Indigenous part, and then I basically had some of the techniques on how to counter City Hall," Reza said. "We were a tag team."
For Enrique Acosta, Indigenous rights and migrant rights linked
Organizers at Tonatierra frequently heard complaints from members of Indigenous communities in Arizona who had been targeted by Arpaio's immigration sweeps because of their physical appearance.
"We were hearing from our Diné relatives, our Hopi relatives, even our O'odham relatives, that they were being pulled over and they were being asked for their papers, and they were being asked about their citizenship and being harassed," Reyes-Acosta said. "And so it was important for us as an embassy of Indigenous people to make sure that we were highlighting that fight, that it was not just a Latino/Hispanic fight, but it was a fight for Indigenous autonomy, for Indigenous rights to self-determination, for Indigenous rights to migrate."
Enrique Acosta viewed migration through an Indigenous rights lens, Reza said.
"Indigenous rights are also human rights to walk, live and work on any part of Mother Earth," Reza said later in a text message. "Thus, they are part of the so-called migrant rights."
Enrique Acosta also recognized that many migrants coming to the U.S. from Mexico or other parts of Latin America were Indigenous people displaced or forced to migrate by impacts of the North American Free Trade Agreement and other economic policies, Reyes-Aguirre said.
Leaving behind a legacy working for justice
In the late 1970s, Enrique Acosta participated in the organizing of a large-scale strike of undocumented workers through the Maricopa County Organizing Project, a precursor to Tonatierra, the nonprofit community-based organization he co-founded in the early 1990s.
The name Tonatierra is a combination of two words, "tonalli," which means "sun" in Nahuatl, and "tierra," which means "earth" in Spanish, Reza said.
The organization has launched many projects over the years, among them Los Comités de Defensa del Barrio, a social justice network; Macehualli, which advocates for day laborers and used to run a day labor center on Bell Road in Phoenix; and the QuetzalCo-op, which supports Maya Indigenous people in Chiapas, Mexico, through the sale of roasted coffee.
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Tonatierra's headquarters on Seventh Street in Phoenix also serves as a gathering place for Indigenous people and hosts danzas and other traditional Indigenous events.
"He did this without anything, no expectations in return — except for justice," Reyes-Aguirre said. "That was the only thing he ever wanted, was justice for everything that he did and all the work that he did. That was the outcome. Not to make a name for himself, not for any kind of funding, not for any notoriety, only for justice."
Enrique Acosta fought off throat cancer 15 years ago, but the cancer returned in February, Reyes Aguirre said. He began treatment in March, and a scan showed him cancer-free the day before he died of pneumonia, a complication of the disease, she said.
Near the end, Enrique Acosta could no longer drink his beloved black coffee. But his family would lift up a cup so he could savor the smell.
Enrique Acosta was in the process of digitizing a storage room packed with papers documenting his life's work advocating for Indigenous rights, Reyes-Aguirre said.
Enrique Acosta is survived by his wife, Maria; eight children; 22 grandchildren; and two great-grandchildren.
"Tonatierra has every intention to continue the work and to continue to uplift that legacy that he left behind because we know that the sacrifices that he made were for all of us," Reyes-Aguirre said.
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Daniel Gonzalez covers race, equity and opportunity. Reach the reporter at daniel.gonzalez@arizonarepublic.com or 602-444-8312.
This article originally appeared on Arizona Republic: Tupac Enrique Acosta, Indigenous rights leader in Arizona, dies at 71
