Pozzolan mining and reconnecting with our lands

I have been following the Pagan mining issue with a mix of alarm, sadness, and hope. My interest in Pagan have been partly scholarly, as an historian of the Pacific, but also partly political, as an indigenous Carolinian from Guam who is concerned about the wellbeing of the people and the islands in the context of rapid development under colonial rule and influence. Much of the commentary, and some of the processes in favor of mining “pozzolan” in Pagan are troubling, and should prompt us to rethink our basic assumptions about how we are developing in the modern world.

Aside from questions that have been raised about the developer’s finances and technical expertise—especially those concerning the huge gulf between projected profits and revenue for the people of the CNMI—the whole initiative repeats the sins of colonial history still prevalent across the Pacific islands: Outsider opportunists aided and abetted by local agents, both blinded by the prospect of big profits and eager to convince public servants and their constituents of the benefits for the common good; the disdain typically directed at opponents or detractors; the conviction that only a few know what’s best for the many. Some proponents even speak as if they have a special claim on reason and common sense, when they depict their opponents as emotional and unreasonable. And yet, we are all fully aware of the kind of passion and rash behavior that big money can often beget. Last but not least is the all-too-familiar reality of continued displacement of native and local residents and, above all else, the irreparable destruction of precious and sacred land and waters.

But while interest in mining Pagan is clearly not an issue that simply pits outsiders against locals, natives against non-natives, the initiative just does not appear to have been locally originated and conceived, certainly not from original Pagan residents, however effective it has been in purchasing what local support it enjoys. What is clear, however, especially given the MPLA’s recent rush to ease permission, is that there is substantial fear among the proponents that the proposal may not meet environmental standards nor survive healthy commercial competition. Isn’t it reasonable, and doesn’t it make common sense to proceed cautiously and carefully, to investigate possible environmental hazards fully and to invite other proposals?

But there is an even deeper, more profound lesson being raised there in the CNMI that has a much longer history and resonates with many more people in the region and around the world, especially among indigenous peoples of the world, who continue to experience dispossession, displacement, and loss of livelihood and spiritual connection to the environment. If the history of the Pacific is filled with stories of irresponsible and destructive growth and exploitation, it is also filled with resilience, resistance, and resolve informed by ancient values born out of and in relation to the needs of the lands and the seas. Increasing numbers of peoples of the land and the sea, there in the Marianas and elsewhere across the Pacific, are reconnecting with the lands and the seas in order to nurture and strengthen the real bonds that provide true livelihood and wellbeing. In this sense, we might take a lesson from our cousins up north, the Kanaka Maoli of Hawai’i, for whom lava and ash are not mere natural resources there to exploit, but are manifestations of Pele’s awesome power to create and destroy. Of course, the Taotao Tano and the Re Metaw and the Refalawasch who have come to call the Marianas home share similar convictions about the awesome power of God as well as that of the spirits of the lands and the seas. It isn’t too late for these values to resume their leadership role in shaping growth and development in our islands. Only then will our own creative powers not lead to the destruction of our worlds.

Dr. Vicente M. Diaz
Asian/Pacific Islander American Studies
University of Michigan