By Ray Stern
By Ray Stern
By New Times
By Amy Silverman
By Stephen Lemons
By Stephen Lemons
By Monica Alonzo
By Chris Parker
Second of Two Parts
The traditional Hopi knew all along.
For nearly 50 years, their pleas to the federal government to prevent mining in the heart of their homeland on Black Mesa have been ignored.
Hopi religious leaders, the Kikmongwi, beseeched President Harry Truman in 1949 to forbid such atrocity.
Truman ignored them.
In the early 1960s, the traditional Hopi who followed ancient ways of self-governance by consensus protested efforts by a renegade Hopi tribal council to grant mining leases.
Washington, D.C., bureaucrats responded by usurping the Hopi Constitution that "prevent[ed]" the council from executing mineral leases without approval of the Hopi people by "delegating" leasing authority to the renegade council.
By the late 1960s, the traditional Hopi leaders had grown deeply suspicious of the council's attorney, who had negotiated a one-sided mineral lease with Peabody Western Coal Company. The lease allowed Peabody to create one of the largest coal strip-mining and water-consuming operations in the United States--on Black Mesa.
They turned to the courts, filing numerous lawsuits. All were thrown out.
On Black Mesa--the land where their ancestors are buried, site of sacred shrines that bind their lives--Peabody's giant bulldozers remove 12 million tons of coal a year. Meanwhile, the London-based multinational corporation's deep wells suck 1.2 billion gallons of water each year from an ancient aquifer--a practice the Hopi claim is drying up sacred springs.
The coal fuels two massive electricity generating plants that power the Southwest's burgeoning cities and, perhaps more important, generate tens of billions of dollars of profits for utilities, banks and developers.
As the decades passed, many of the traditionalists faded into the dusty mesas where the Hopi first built villages more than 950 years ago and where their ancestors roamed 12,000 years ago.
Only a handful of the Hopi's traditional religious leaders remains.
And only now are the half-century-old suspicions being confirmed.
The Hopi, whose tenets are trust and loyalty, were deceived.
Nobody played a larger role than the Hopi's longtime, trusted and beloved attorney, the late John Sterling Boyden.
Documents recently uncovered by University of Colorado law professor Charles F. Wilkinson reveal Boyden's betrayal of the Hopi through a blatant conflict of interest.
Records show that Boyden was working for Peabody Western Coal Company at the same time he was representing the Hopi in negotiations with Peabody for the Black Mesa coal lease. Such actions are among the most heinous of attorney misconduct.
Wilkinson takes no delight in his revelation of Boyden's role. But he's pleased it provides proof to support the long-held contentions of Hopi traditionalists.
"This is one of the largest single events in the Hopi's thousand-year history," Wilkinson says of Boyden's role in the Peabody mining lease. "At least now, the record is clear."
John Sterling Boyden was a pillar of Utah Democratic politics for decades. A friend of Utah governors and an acquaintance of presidents, Boyden twice sought Utah's Democratic nomination for governor.
The prominent Salt Lake City attorney grew up a devout Mormon in Coalville, Utah. He served as a bishop in Salt Lake City from 1953 through 1958. His contribution to the Mormon Church was recognized at his funeral in 1980, when Marion Romney of the Church's First Presidency spoke.
Boyden was hired by an unofficial group calling itself the Hopi tribal council in 1950 to represent the tribe before the Indian Claims Commission. The commission was created to determine compensation to Indian tribes whose land was seized by the United States. The work was lucrative for Boyden, who eventually earned a $500,000 fee, equal to 10 percent of a $5 million settlement the U.S. offered to pay the Hopi for the loss of four million acres.
The elected Hopi Tribal Council was no longer recognized by the federal government when Boyden was hired. That council was dissolved by the federal government in 1943 because Hopi traditionalists refused to recognize it.
To legitimize his claim as Hopi attorney, Boyden executed agreements with leaders of seven of the 12 Hopi villages along with the unofficial Hopi council.
Boyden expanded his role beyond representing Hopi interests with the Claims Commission in 1951, when he convinced the seven Hopi villages to hire him as general counsel to negotiate with oil companies that desired leases on Hopi land. Boyden told the villages he would be paid only out of revenues he produced for the tribe, according to Hopi tribal records obtained by New Times.
The plan to make Boyden general counsel was problematic. The local Bureau of Indian Affairs director recommended the contract be rejected because it would legitimize the renegade tribal council without the consent of the Hopi people. But Boyden went over the local BIA director's head, and won approval from Department of the Interior officials who were eager to see the Hopi grant oil and mineral leases.
A BIA memorandum describes a Boyden meeting with Interior Department officials in which he says "that remuneration for his services will depend largely on working out solutions to many of the Hopi problems to such a point that oil leases will provide funds."
The BIA approved Boyden's general-counsel contract in May 1952, triggering controversy on the Hopi reservation. While the protests caused the Interior Department to review BIA approval of Boyden's contract, in the end, Boyden's appointment stood.