The years-long effort to secure permanent protection for the incomparable landscape of southeast Utah seemingly came to fruition in 2016 when the Antiquities Act was used to establish Bears Ears National Monument. Unfortunately the strength of this protection has been and will continue to be disputed. As I write there are active lawsuits challenging the authority of this declaration, and the region seems destined to be a pawn in the predictable political agitations of far away representatives. The relative strengths and weaknesses of federal protection are material for another conversation lubricated by strong drinks and warm fires. That conversation should be had. But a prior one should recognize the collective voice of the indigenous people in the region who have shown admirable steadfastness. Their commitment to achieving meaningful protection of this region will continue to be challenged, and it may not soon be resolved, but it has remained committed; more than that, committed to a place. This cultural landscape has meaning, more than commercial, that is recognized by the people with ancestral ties to it. I would hope that we all have such a commitment to the ground we stand on.
With Bears Ears on my mind it seems appropriate to mention a few of the recent additions to the literature of the region. For nearly 50 years, until his passing last August, the climber, adventurer, and author, David Roberts, documented the history of the Southwest. The last of these, The Bears Ears: A Human History of America’s Most Endangered Wilderness, is a pleasure to read. As he often does, Roberts weaves personal memoir with solid research as he winds through the past few hundred years of the Bears Ears, using history to illuminate the current fight to protect this place. I can’t recommend this, and other works by Roberts, enough. His affection for these places is apparent, indeed this volume sometimes feels like a love letter to the red rocks he walked on for half his life. It ends, appropriate for his last work, with the lines, “For me, it will be enough to recline on slickrock, close to the person I’ve loved more than anyone else in my life…as we linger for another few charmed hours in that corner of my favorite place on earth.”
Heated editorials, angry protests, and physical confrontations have been distressingly common in the disagreements over the status of Bears Ears. What was long needed was a (somewhat) neutral ear that could listen to the opposing sides and fairly articulate their distinct concerns. Rebecca M. Robinson is that ear, and her 2018 release, Voices From Bears Ears: Seeking Common Ground on Sacred Land, is the stunning result. Rebecca, with photographer Stephen E. Strom, visited with many of the principle players in the debate, and with admirable empathy has written portraits of each of them; ranging from members of the Inter-Tribal Coalition, to state politicians, ranchers, archaeologists, and conservation advocates. Essays addressing key concepts are staggered throughout to provide helpful historical and cultural context, and maps are included at the end to aid in the visual storytelling provided by the spectacular photographs. This might sound like a review of a textbook or news magazine, but all of the reporting and information are written in engaging prose, and all of the figures are fascinating. Read it.
When you emerge from a deep dive into the Bears Ears debate, you can’t help but wonder if the distrust between the parties will ever be mended, or if it has ossified into fixed rigidity. You might wonder this about many things in our contemporary society. One possible stitch might be for all of us to fix our attention more often on what binds us, rather than what rends us. Sebastian Junger, in his slim volume Tribe: On Homecoming and Belonging, attempts to remind the reader that we will always be stronger when we find ways to come together. One of the most astonishing gifts of political modernity is that it has removed so many of the arbitrary divisions that for millennia forced us into inflexible classes and stations. But it might have come with a cost. It is easier than it has ever been to choose our affiliations, yet we seem to be more divided with each passing day. Junger argues that it might be worthwhile to look back to pre-modern societies, where loyalty, belonging, and meaning, bound humans together in common cause. It is a quick read, deceptively simple, that should keep you thinking for some time. Consider this quote, the “And yet” lingers in your mind for some time.
"There’s no use arguing that modern society isn’t a kind of paradise. The vast majority of us don’t, personally, have to grow or kill our own food, build our own dwellings or defend ourselves from wild animals and enemies. In one day we can travel a thousand miles by pushing our foot down on a gas pedal or around the world by booking a seat on an airplane. When we are in pain we have narcotics that dull it out of existence, and when we are depressed we have pills that change the chemistry of our brains. We understand an enormous amount about the universe, from subatomic particles to our own bodies to galaxy clusters, and we use that knowledge to make life even better and easier for ourselves. The poorest people in modern society enjoy a level of physical comfort that was unimaginable a thousand years ago, and the wealthiest people literally live the way gods were imagined to have.
And yet."
Take care. Enjoy your reading.
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