With water, tribes can reclaim their agricultural heritage and restore riverside landscapes

In the wide-open fields of the Gila River Indian Community south of Phoenix, Brian Davis, Wahlean Riggs, Ramona Button and Charles Austin carry on a millennial-long tradition among the Akimel O'odham people.

They are farmers, growing food on 10-acre plots for the family's animals and an array of crops on the Button family's 4,000-acre spread. For them and others in the community, agriculture is a tribal affair.

O'odham and Pee Posh farmers once grew prosperous as growers. Before European contact, they grew beans, corn, squash, cotton and cultivated agave. Some farmers like Button continue to grow traditional foods, while other Indigenous farmers nurture fields of potatoes, wheat and barley.

What connects all of the farmers across generations is the water, drawn from the Gila River for centuries and from canals crossing the desert in more recent years. The water allows the people to raise food, animals and families, beginning to restore ways of life lost when European settlers diverted the river.

The same water, secured by the landmark Gila River Water Settlement, enacted in 2004, has made the 21,000-member tribe a major player in Arizona and Southwestern water policy, in long-term talks over growth and shorter term negotiations over drought and shortages.

Gila River, along with the Colorado River Indian Tribes, the Ak-Chin Indian Community and other Colorado River basin tribes, are either leasing water or seek authority to lease a portion of their settlements and have used their water to slow the onset of new restrictions on water use.

Longtime farmer Don Antone Sr. farms the same lands as his parents, grandparents and O'odham ancestors did along the Gila River from time immemorial.

"We're very cognizant and we're knowledgeable about how to treat water," he said, "and how to use the water in our land."

Water gave life to ancestral civilizations

For millennia, the O'odham people and their ancestors, the Huhugam, built their lives around rivers, streams and washes.

They constructed one of the ancient world's engineering marvels, a canal system on what is known now as the Salt River. The 1,000-plus-mile system formed the foundation for a civilization that endured for centuries and a lasting blueprint for later settlers.

Even after the cities that stretched along the river were abandoned for smaller settlements, the Huhugam's descendants remained master agriculturalists. The O'odham peoples of central and southern Arizona and northern Sonora grew a variety of crops along the Gila River, where they had mostly settled.

After European contact, the Akimel O'odham, or "River People" and their more recently-arrived neighbors, the Pee Posh, or "People Who Live Toward the Water," who lived in what is now known as the Gila River Indian Community, supplied wheat to the U.S. Army and traded other foodstuffs and cotton to other settlers.

O'odham and Pee Posh farms produced more than 1 million pounds of wheat in 1862 alone, according to the tribe's website. The community was prosperous and healthy.

"The river was an area of subsistence to us," said Gila River Indian Community Gov. Stephen Roe Lewis. "It was our identity, both spiritual and cultural. Everything that made us who we are, how we survived or our economy was found at the river."

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But in the late 19th century, the O'odham and Pee Posh peoples' fortunes declined rapidly as settlers began diverting water from the Gila River, where most Akimel O'odham people maintained their farms. The formerly prosperous community was plunged into a time of famine and starvation.

"The farming areas dried up literally overnight from one of the most historic thefts of water in the history of the United States." Lewis said. "This turned our economy upside down. Our traditional diet was turned upside down. All of the produce, the agricultural plants that we cultivated, dried up."

The loss of the water devastated the farmers and their families.

"The people's industry, the agricultural industry just stopped and there was massive starvation here," said Davis, who farms about 300 acres near Casa Blanca. "There was a huge famine that you don't read about in the history books. Many people died and they lost their livelihood."

Button said the resulting famine drove O'odham and Pee Posh people to take desperate measures. As the people grew hungrier, she said, they would cut wheat that had barely begun to ripen.

"The people were so hungry that they would go and build a pyre, cut the wheat and cut out the parts that had the berry seeds on it," she said. "They would take the wheat berries, put them on the coals, then take them off and rubbed most of the charred wheat seeds, the raw seeds, and then put them in a pot to cook."

That porridge was the only thing that stood between families and starvation.

The U.S. government stepped in and began providing commodity foods to tribal members, but the high-fat, high-sugar and low-fiber diet set off an intergenerational epidemic of diabetes and related diseases the tribe is still battling.

After decades fighting a protracted legal battle, the tribe finally regained its senior water rights in 2004 with the enactment of the Gila River Indian Community Water Rights Settlement. The congressionally-approved settlement provided Gila River with an annual allotment of 653,500 acre-feet of water from the Central Arizona Project, the Gila River, the Salt River and groundwater.

The fight for Gila River's water rights was led by Lewis' father, attorney Rod Lewis, who died in 2018.

But while the decades of suffering and poverty have seemingly been seared into the Gila River community's communal memory, the tribe still is willing to share — and lease — its water.

The tribe has agreements with Salt River Project, the city of Phoenix and the Central Arizona Groundwater Replenishment District to store groundwater at several sites, including the MAR-5 facility and cultural garden on the eastern end of the reservation.

"We know full well what happens when your water is taken," Lewis said.

Other tribes were able to settle their rights more quietly. The five Colorado River Valley tribes' senior rights were affirmed in the 1963 case Arizona v. California. Ak-Chin Indian Community's rights were settled in a 1978 congressional bill, but had to go back to Congress for reauthorization in 1984 when the water promised failed to arrive.

Once water-starved tribes willing to share water

With those settlements secured, some Lower Basin tribes have begun to lease some of their water allocations, mostly to urban areas, according to a study published by the University of Colorado.

Ak-Chin leases some of its excess water to the Del Webb Corp. to supply the Anthem master-planned community. The University of Colorado study found that at least five other Lower Basin tribes either actively lease water or have the authority to market water. At least one Upper Basin tribe, the Jicarilla Apache Tribe, has held auctions to market some of its excess water.

The Kaibab Paiute Tribe in northern Arizona has a 1972 agreement with the National Park Service, which operates Pipe Spring National Monument within the tribal land's borders. Kaibab receives up to 7.9 million gallons from the park service in exchange for one-third of the Pipe Spring water. The tribe swaps some of that water back to the park service in exchange for potable water.

The Colorado River Valley tribes on the Arizona side of the river currently lack that authority. The Colorado River Indian Tribes are working with Arizona Sens. Mark Kelly and Kyrsten Sinema to gain congressional approval to lease some of its excess water. The leasing authority was part of a House bill, the Wildfire Response and Drought Resiliency (WRDR) Act, that passed the full House July 29  with the support of Arizona Rep. Raúl Grijalva.

CRIT Chairwoman Amelia Flores said that the tribe has been working to obtain the lease approval for more than 20 years. The current effort began seven years ago, she said. The ability to lease water that CRIT has carefully conserved through new farming technology and other method provide the nearly 4,300-member tribe with another revenue stream and more economic stability, Flores said. The authorization would also enhance the tribe's sovereignty over its land and waters, she said.

The Colorado River Indian Tribes are also committed to conserving one of Arizona's most precious resources. In January, CRIT Chairwoman Amelia Flores told an audience of legislators and tribal members gathered at the Arizona Legislature about her tribe's role in the joint effort to prevent future cuts to Arizona's share of Colorado River water and pledged that her tribe would continue to partner with other water users to conserve water.

Tribes are also leaders in restoring once-desiccated riverine areas to protect indigenous plant, animal and fish species that once were in abundance.

"It's about saving the life of the river," Flores said. "Not only will it take CRIT but it will take everybody in both the upper and lower basin to save the Colorado."

Tribes lead the way in riparian restorations

Honey mesquite trees heavy with bean pods, cottonwoods reaching toward the blue sky and down toward the water and willows swaying in the breeze dot the landscape on a bright, cloudless day.

Nearby, a tranquil backwater cove lined with tule and other water plants is so quiet that the sound of a paddle from a blue fiberglass boat slapping the water is clearly heard. Ducks and other waterfowl dance in the water.

The trees and nearby stands of cattails, arrowweed and other indigenous plants provide welcome shade for people, birds and animals, and were carefully planted and nurtured to show what the Colorado River Valley once was, and in carefully tended plots, could be again.

And tribes are leading the way. As they take a more active role in water management throughout the Colorado River Basin, tribes are also setting aside water and riverine areas to preserve and restore natural habitats.

Before dams, diversion canals and the Law of the River throttled the Colorado River's flow to a tiny trickle, the Colorado River Valley was a lush, green ribbon fed by the rusty waters of its mighty eponymous river.

Stands of honey mesquite, towering cottonwoods and willows anchored alluvial lands made fertile by muddy deposits left behind by the river. Sandbar willow, arrowweed, desert broom and cattails grew thick along the river banks.

Indigenous peoples including the Mojave, Quechan, Chemehuevi and Cocopah thrived along the verdant valley, growing melons, squash, corn and possibly maize in the alluvial deposits, fishing in the river and using the plants for baskets, housing, clothing and other uses.

The peoples who have called this area home since time immemorial grasp the importance of caring for what have sustained them for millennia.

"Mojave people are called to be stewards of the water and the land," said Amelia Flores. "Our relationship to the water is very important culturally."

Flores, the chairwoman of the Colorado River Indian Tribes, said that many traditional Mojave stories, including coyote stories, center around the river.

The valley today is a pale shadow of its former glory as more water has been siphoned off to water faraway fields and cities. But some tribes are working to restore a portion of the verdant river's wetlands that have sustained them for millennia. These sites not only harbor once-plentiful species of plants, animals and birds but also a place for tribal members to gather materials for basketry or other cultural works.

The Quechan Tribe even donated part of its Arizona-side water allotment to restoring the historic Yuma Crossing wetlands to their pre-contact condition.

"All of the tribes along the Colorado River have been so interwoven when it comes to the conservation and preservation of the Colorado River," said Cocopah Vice-Chairwoman Rosa Long during the Colorado River Water Users Association meeting in December.

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'Ahakhav Tribal Preserve is a cultural touchpoint

The 'Ahakhav Tribal Preserve in the Colorado River Indian Tribes’ homelands near Parker is one of the oldest such restored sites.

The 1,250-acre preserve re-creates a riparian backwater zone that once lined much of the river. Over the past 20 years, tribal members and contractors painstakingly removed tamarisks, camelthorn and other plants brought to the area by settlers, or that had hitched rides on wooden pallets or inside cargo containers. They replanted native plant species and have carefully husbanded the preserve.

It also serves as a cultural touchpoint for the four Indigenous peoples who call this stretch of the Colorado River Valley home.

The Mojave people have called the valley and surrounding desert lands home since time immemorial. The Chemehuevi are the southernmost of the Paiute peoples who have lived on both sides of the Colorado, as well as throughout the Mojave Desert, for millennia. In the 1940s, the U.S. government resettled some people from the Navajo and Hopi tribes on CRIT lands.

Although the Mojave's and Chemehuevi's ancestral lands stretch into the Sonoran and Mojave deserts, the river was a focal point of their lives. The Colorado's waters provided fertile farmland, basketry materials and other materials used in everyday life.

"These were always traditional lands to the Mojave people, and that is evident in the petroglyphs in the North-South trails," Flores said. Mojaves have names for many places along the river, and those names are used today, she said.

"We will continue to be stewards of the water and of our land," Flores said.

Yuma East Wetlands, a former trash dump, is now home to plants and birds

About 120 miles south of Parker, the Quechan Indian Tribe partnered with city, state and federal entities to restore 400 acres of wetlands in a nearly 20-year project.

The Yuma East Wetlands is rich with marshland and mesquite, cottonwood and willow trees. Invasive species like tamarisk trees and phragmites, a reed that chokes out native water plants, have been rooted out. Transient camps and trash dumps have been replaced with the clacking call of the Yuma Ridgway's rail and the coos of the yellow-billed cuckoo. These two endangered species now have protected homes in the wetlands.

The wetlands project has its beginnings in rehabilitating a bridge built in 1915. The Ocean to Ocean Bridge, which crossed the bottomlands where the wetlands park is now located, allows residents from Yuma and the tribe to easily access the city's revitalized downtown and the nearby Paradise Casino.

"The importance of the Yuma Crossing and the effort to resurrect a once-forgotten bridge serve to connect the two communities in a way that persists today, nearly 20 years later," said Brian Golding Sr., director of economic development for the tribe.

The Quechan Tribe pursued the wetland restoration partnership for several reasons.

"One of those reasons involved restoring the connection to the river, not just for the birds and beasts and bugs, but also for people," said Golding, who is also a Quechan tribal member. "People have spiritual needs related to water."

People from both Native and non-Native communities have come to reclaim that connection, he said.

The 3,800-member tribe, whose reservation is located on both sides of the Colorado, dedicates about 1,250 of its 6,350 acre-feet Arizona allocation to sustaining the wetlands.

The project has transformed not only the historic Yuma Crossing but a portion of the local economy, Golding said.

"I'm really proud about that."

Cocopah Tribe replants native plants

A short drive downriver, the Quechan's neighbors, the Cocopah Tribe, are also engaged in restoring Colorado River bottomlands.

The Cocopah, or River People, are the last tribal community on the river before it reaches Mexico. The people used reeds, arrowweed, willow sticks and bark and other wetland plants for a variety of purposes, including thatched roofing, baskets, clothing, gourd rattle handles and the long painted sticks used in peone, a traditional game.

In a series of videos provided to The Arizona Republic, the 1,000-member tribe, which occupies three noncontiguous trust lands southwest of Yuma, showed how they have been restoring some of the riverbank in the northern reservation land.

Several acres of invasive phragmite reeds and other non-native plants were removed along the banks. The tribe then brought in plants including cottonwood, willow and mesquite trees to revegetate the area.

Future plans include creating a walking trail along the river.

"The Colorado River means a lot to the Cocopah people,"  Cocopah elder Frances Barley Evanston said in a 2018 video. "We've depended upon the river for  years."

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Debra Krol reports on Indigenous communities at the confluence of climate, culture and commerce in Arizona and the Intermountain West. Reach Krol at debra.krol@azcentral.com. Follow her on Twitter at @debkrol. 

Coverage of Indigenous issues at the intersection of climate, culture and commerce is supported by the Catena Foundation.

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This article originally appeared on Arizona Republic: Tribes with water rights are able to farm and reclaim landscapes