Many newcomers to the American West shake their heads in dismay when, beyond the seemingly endless spectacularity of the place, they get their first glimpse of mine-trashed terrain. Old-timers, too, might shake their heads — over the notion that, well, that's how it is ...
... and has been since the Ulysses S. Grant presidency, when the administration and a Congress still in the thrall of Manifest Destiny passed a federal mining law to hasten the opening of the West.
That law, like the great railroad giveaways, might've made sense to our 19th-century leaders. Once in place, though, they made a few folks so powerful that they could keep the rules in their favor — for 137 years and counting, in the case of the mining barons.
Decades of environmentalism have made only slight dents in the mine-lobby armor — but little by little, enviros have gained influence, if not through persuasion of our lawmakers, then by gaining their own seats at the table.
For the first part of this century, the going was pretty bleak — but lately there's been a bit of good news:
- This week, copper giant Asarco came out of bankruptcy — and as part of the legal proceedings agreed to a $1.8 billion settlement of environmental claims. It's the biggest cleanup recovery in the country's history. The biggest single chunk, $436 million, will go toward cleanup of a mine up on the Idaho-Washington border — but three quarters of a billion will be put into remediation of sites scattered around the West, New Mexico included.
Here, Environment Secretary Ron Curry has been hard at work wringing recovery of land and water from a mining industry that's been in decline — but whose bosses are getting whiffs of profit potential. And maybe it's the scent of new ventures that holds promise for another advance:
- New Mexico's Sen. Jeff Bingaman has gained Colorado colleague Michael Bennet's co-sponsorship for his latest effort at hardrock mine reform.
Introduced last spring, Bingaman's bill would give the government at least a piece of the profits stripped from public land. There'd also be a reclamation fee, as well as a trust fund to help guarantee financial responsibility for long-term treatment of water polluted by mining and mineral production.
The mining industry, finally facing up to its responsibilities as corporate citizen, accepts some provisions of the Bingaman bill. But not long after he introduced it, advocates of laissez-faire mine policies were warning that it's a Trojan horse — and that sterner measures proposed in the House by West Virginia's Rep. Nick Rahall might wind up in Congress' product.
But Bingaman's efforts, and Rahall's, could, after so many years of environmentalist efforts against the industry, end uncertainty over what it'll be allowed to do, thus make it a more stable investment.
Bingaman, who's from our state's copper belt, is still in favor of a healthy mining industry, but he also says "there's no way to justify continuing to operate" under the 1872 law.
Imposition of royalties — a percent or two, perhaps — won't likely be deal-breakers in mine development. Of greater concern to the corporations will be long-overdue environmental protection. But surely the professors at New Mexico Tech, Colorado Mines and other schools are researching ways of reducing the impact of mining on Western lands and the scarce water running through and beneath them.
Bingaman's on the right track — and in fellow New Mexican Tom Udall, he has good company in his quest. Those two and Colorado's Bennet still face formidable opposition from the Western Republicans who've long resisted any changes in that law. The mine lobby can be expected to use GOP contacts to dilute Jeff's efforts — but this might be mine-law reform's time.