After a couple of years in the background of the dispute over a nuclear waste dump proposed for Ward Valley, five desert Indian tribes stepped in 10 days ago and brought the plan to a sudden halt.

Federal officials said they will not proceed with the plan as long as the Indian elders are on the land the tribes have declared sacred.

About 40 Indians from the five tribes of the lower Colorado River remain at the site this weekend along with an equal number of anti-nuclear activists but their role in the dispute began much less visibly.

More than two years ago the Fort Mojave Tribe obtained a permit to set up a camp at the dump site and allowed non-Indian protesters to stay there. While the white activists were more vocal in opposition, the Indians continued to fight the permit process through government channels.

"This action where tribes take the lead over an environmental issue is unique," said Tom Goldtooth of the Indigenous Environmental Network of Benidji, Minn.

Goldtooth, a Navajo who stayed at the camp last week, said Indian tribes across the country are emphasizing their environmental and religious rights.

The Colorado River Native Nations Alliance filed objections in the federal environmental impact study being conducted.

The tribes cited the American Indian Religious Freedom Act, which they said allows them to practice their religion on sacred ground, such as Ward Valley. Although the site is about 20 miles from their reservations, the 1,000-acre area is a part of the habitat of the desert tortoise, which is sacred to Indians and central to their creation beliefs.

The Indians may also file lawsuits over each issue. "The strategy over those issues is still being set up," Goldtooth said.

The proposed dump site lies about 20 miles west of the Colorado River, along which are the reservations of the Fort Mojave, Quechan, Chemehuevi, Cocopah tribes and the Colorado River Indian tribes. The tribes, totaling almost 8,000 people, are united in opposition.

The five tribes united as Colorado River Native Alliance in 1964 to fight for river water rights, said Steve Lopez, a Fort Mojave Indian and an alliance spokesman.

"Then the alliance kind of relaxed until the dump brought it back up," he said. The tribes issued the first of several joint resolutions opposing the dump in 1993.

Vernon Foster, the southwest regional director of the American Indian Movement who stayed at the camp last week, termed the Indian protest "historic" because of the extent of its organization and popularity.

The scene at the camp Wednesday night, as the protesters were about to ignore a second deadline to evacuate the camp, could have been lifted right out of the history books or a movie.

Dignified Indian women sat around a campfire in a semi-circle as a tribal spokesman made an emotional plea to representatives of the federal government. More than 200 Indians and anti-nuclear protesters watched through the dark and the smoke in the campsite.

"This is a time of crisis for our people," said Wally Antone, a Quechan Indian. "We don't want this dump. Please understand us. Please see what we are going through. We are defending the rights of our children and our forefathers, the ancient ones."

Antone beseeched U.S. Bureau of Land Management officials who had come as guests of the Indians. By defying the BLM deadlines to leave the area, the Indians had set up a huge obstacle to efforts to move ahead with the dump.

Ed Hastey, the BLM's highest California official, could only mutter a few noncommittal words of response. "This has been a long and difficult journey for all of us," he said. "We will continue to listen to you."

In addition to worrying about radioactivity leaking from the dump into groundwater, the Indians are concerned that the image of the casinos each tribe operates will suffer if the dump is built. The state health department is continuing to pressure the BLM to resolve the standoff with the Indians and move ahead with the testing. "We're beginning to feel like this whole thing has been orchestrated so that the Interior Department will have another excuse for delay," said Peter Baldridge, a senior health department attorney. "We've had meetings with the BLM and we've made it clear we think the protesters should be moved."

Deputy Interior Secretary John Garamendi on Friday denied any collusion and said the testing was needed to determine whether the dump would be safe.

The Indians and protesters will be allowed to stay at the site for the near future, he said.

"I want to make it clear we are not going to incite any demonstrations or do anything that will incite violence, and the BLM has been so instructed," he said. "We are willing to be patient."

The Indians are conducting religious ceremonies at the protest, invoking the American Indian Religious Freedom Act.

But Jan Bedrosian, a BLM spokeswoman, said the law may not give the Indians the right to remain on the campsite. "The law gives Indians access to the land; it doesn't give them the ability to be outside of federal law," she said. "But the Indians think it does, so I'm sure we will get into a discussion about it with them."

Despite years of debate, dump proponents and opponents are still miles apart.

A National Academy of Sciences study commissioned by Interior Secretary Bruce Babbitt said in May 1995 that it was "highly unlikely" that nuclear waste would migrate with rain water underground through the desert to the river.

The Indians refuse to believe the studies. "That dump will seep into our water," said Mamie Harper, 66, a Mojave Indian elder.

What will go in the dump is also a matter of intense debate. Baldridge said no more than 50 percent of waste will come from nuclear power plants, while anti-nuclear activists say more than 90 percent will come from plants.

Meanwhile the Indians vow to maintain a significant presence at the camp. Edith White, 79, a Quechan Indian elder who stayed around a campfire Wednesday night to sunrise Thursday, summed up the attitude of the Indians.

"If they come to get me, I've got my cane," she said.

Published 2/22/1998