Yuyun Lusiyani
In a dramatic escalation of the contentious U.S.-Mexico border wall project, the Tohono O’odham Nation in Southern Arizona found itself under what tribal leaders describe as a government siege, as federal contractors, flanked by tactical Border Patrol agents, initiated soil tests for a 62-mile wall on tribal lands. The incursion, which began on August 25 following a mere 60-second email notification, underscores a profound clash between national security imperatives and the deeply entrenched principles of tribal sovereignty, cultural preservation, and ancestral rights.
The Dawn Raid: A 60-Second Notification
The morning of August 25 broke with an abrupt and unsettling message for Verlon Jose, the 59-year-old chairman of the Tohono O’odham Nation. At 4:59 a.m., an email from Henry N. Laxdal, acting chief patrol agent for the U.S. Border Patrol’s Tucson Sector, landed in his inbox. The message was stark: government contractors were already en route to conduct soil tests, a precursor to the construction of a substantial border wall along the Nation’s southern boundary. Jose was informed that tribal cultural monitors were welcome to observe the work, but under no circumstances were they to interfere with government operations. The critical detail: work would commence in precisely one minute.
This last-minute notification was less a courtesy and more a formality, as Jose was already aware of the impending arrival. An hour prior, tribal members had reported a convoy of vehicles moving south through the reservation, a sight quickly corroborated by a flurry of social media posts. The caravan was not just work trucks and drilling rigs; it included numerous Border Patrol vehicles, signaling a heavily guarded operation. As daylight fully emerged, the scene intensified. Contractors were observed to be under the protection of federal agents clad in masks and tactical gear, drawn from a special operations cadre previously deployed in controversial citywide sweeps in Minneapolis and Chicago, which had resulted in fatalities. When the tribe’s chief of police attempted to access the worksite, he was met with a roadblock established by these agents, further highlighting the confrontational posture adopted by federal authorities.
Verlon Jose swiftly issued a statement on the Nation’s website, unequivocally declaring the incursion illegal. He also revealed additional layers of federal involvement, including the deployment of a surveillance blimp by the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) and the enlistment of Mexican security forces to bolster protection for the work crews, painting a picture of a coordinated, overwhelming show of force.
A History of Cooperation Undermined
For a quarter-century, the Tohono O’odham Nation had successfully staved off the construction of a physical border wall through a strategic, albeit uneasy, collaboration with DHS. Their vast 2.8 million-acre reservation, the largest on the southern border, had served as a testing ground for some of the government’s most advanced homeland security measures. This included the installation of vehicle barriers, state-of-the-art surveillance towers developed by companies like Elbit Systems, and extensive law enforcement partnerships with both the Border Patrol and Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), notably through units like the Shadow Wolves. These collaborations were rooted in the tribe’s commitment to protecting its people and lands, while seeking to maintain a degree of control over its sovereign territory.
However, despite these long-standing cooperative efforts and explicit assurances from the Trump administration regarding good faith engagement, ProPublica’s investigation revealed a significant shift. DHS, through its various agencies, has turned its formidable surveillance apparatus directly on tribal members. This includes round-the-clock monitoring of an ongoing border prayer ceremony and the questioning of tribal members outside the reservation about their ceremonial activities. This account is meticulously supported by photographs, video footage, court filings, interviews with tribal leadership, firsthand observations, and over 1,000 contemporaneously written observations compiled by tribal members, detailing an unprecedented level of scrutiny and intimidation.
The Tohono O’odham people have inhabited the Sonoran Desert for thousands of years, with their ancestral lands straddling what is now the U.S.-Mexico border. This division has meant that thousands of tribal members reside in Mexico, necessitating routine border crossings for essential ceremonies, family visits, and cultural continuity. The proposed 62-mile wall threatens to irrevocably disrupt these vital connections and obliterate landscapes considered sacred, which tribal members view as their inherent duty to protect. The tribe’s lawsuit argued that the Trump administration’s relentless pursuit of the wall, despite their vehement opposition, constituted an egregious and historic assault on their inherent tribal sovereignty.
The Legal Battle and Political Divide
The tribe’s legal fight against the wall had been ongoing for months. In June, a $1.3 billion contract for the "Tucson 5" project, encompassing the wall construction, was awarded to Sullivan Land Services Co. (SLS and SLSCO), a Texas firm with a documented history of Republican political donations and a major recipient of border wall contracts during the Trump administration’s first term. On June 16, the Tohono O’odham Nation filed a lawsuit in the U.S. District Court for the District of Columbia, contending that the wall would effectively reduce the size of their reservation—an action that can only be authorized by Congress. They further argued that the wall would represent an enduring act of trespass on sovereign lands and cause irreparable destruction to sacred cultural sites, effectively nullifying decades of tribal cooperation with DHS.
The administration’s attorneys, however, maintained that the government was engaging with the O’odham in good faith. They argued that the Nation “does not hold veto power over the United States’ sovereign duty to secure its borders.” On the eve of a July 22 hearing, DHS filed a notice affirming its intent to waive, in whole or in part, over 30 federal laws to expedite the project, including several statutes that explicitly mandate tribal consultation. Despite the judge’s expressed expectation of "consultation and cooperation," a judge in Washington, D.C., denied the tribe’s request for a preliminary injunction on August 14. This ruling effectively cleared the path for construction. Justice Department attorney Adam R.F. Gustafson asserted in court that the tribe had previously approved a barrier, and the current question was merely the type of barrier, which was for DHS to decide. He insisted on the department’s "commitment" to consultation, a claim met with deep skepticism by tribal leaders.
The battle has also cleaved along familiar partisan lines in Arizona. Republican legislative leaders have filed briefs in support of the project, echoing the federal government’s stance on border security. Conversely, Democratic Gov. Katie Hobbs has publicly supported the tribe, filing briefs in their favor. U.S. Rep. Adelita Grijalva, a progressive whose district includes the reservation, has announced plans to craft legislation aimed at reining in the Department of Homeland Security’s sweeping powers, which have allowed the Trump administration to circumvent environmental and cultural preservation statutes on 60 occasions across its two terms.
Escalation: The Prayer Camp and Unrelenting Surveillance
The tribe’s interim chief of police, James Cook, provided a sworn declaration claiming a 90% drop in illegal entry reports over the preceding year, stating that smuggling and other border-related crimes had "almost disappeared." This data, underscored by CBP reports of border apprehensions being 94% lower than during the Biden presidency and "encounters" hitting their lowest levels in over 50 years (figures the tribe cited to demonstrate the wall’s alleged superfluity), directly contradicted the government’s narrative. Benjamin S. Hollinder, a senior Border Patrol official, argued in a sworn declaration that the absence of a wall on the Nation created a "funneling effect," channeling smugglers onto the reservation and predicting an intensification of this dynamic once other parts of Arizona were walled off.
The O’odham suspected the government would not be as mindful as it claimed. Their fears were substantiated when, just two days after a meeting with DHS Secretary Markwayne Mullin (the first Native American to head the department, who reportedly told tribal leaders, “Don’t mess with me,” and warned of border gate closures if they sued), a border wall contractor "inadvertently disturbed a cultural site" west of the reservation. A crew had bulldozed a 70-foot swath through the Las Playas Intaglio, a 200-foot-long earthen etching in the shape of a fish, estimated to be at least 6,500 years old. This site was well-marked and known to archaeologists, highlighting the government’s stated disregard for cultural heritage.
In response to the imminent threat, tribal elders Wynona P. Larson Yazzie, a Marine Corps veteran and former tribal police officer, and Amy Juan, a long-time O’odham activist, organized a prayer fire. Prayer fires are a significant O’odham tradition, convened during times of communal struggle. The chosen site was symbolic: the Ko:li Ki:jig border gate, a traditional crossing point vital for cultural continuity. The camp, named Tadai Me:i ("roadrunner on fire"), became a focal point of peaceful resistance.
Beginning August 9, as contractors prepared to enter the reservation, a round-the-clock vigil was established. The activity logs, meticulously kept in spiral notebooks and shared with ProPublica, document a minute-by-minute account of escalating DHS presence. The first drone sighting occurred at 11:43 p.m. on the night of August 10. Over the first seven days, the logs recorded nearly 665 observations, predominantly federal agents circling the camp. Agents parked, watched, and even photographed campers. Mexican security forces were observed conversing with Border Patrol agents across the international boundary, sharing information. "Surveillance has heightened," Juan noted, describing constant drone, helicopter, and airplane activity, including military Black Hawks.
The psychological toll on tribal members was palpable. Deshane Gregg recounted being forced off the road by a convoy of contractors and federal agents, describing the experience as a "government siege." "You just feel helpless," she said. "You see these people, and they’re just so aggressive. They want you to react. They want you to show them that we could be ugly too. We’re just here doing prayer… but it gets to you when it’s constantly being like that." The omnipresent drones, she added, were "a lot."
A gathering of over 100 people, including members of distant sister tribes, was held on the fourth night. The peaceful evening was disrupted when an elder couple, returning home, were stopped at a checkpoint a half-mile outside the reservation. Agents, who rarely staffed the checkpoint or requested tribal IDs from members, specifically inquired about their attendance at the "ceremony." This incident prompted many to leave, fearing late-night encounters with Border Patrol. Concerns for safety were amplified by the tragic memory of Ray Mattia, a 58-year-old O’odham man shot and killed by Border Patrol agents on his doorstep in 2023, who claimed to have mistaken his cellphone for a gun. Collin Quasule, a 24-year-old camp visitor, expressed a chilling fear: "My fear is that they gonna start shooting us." He detailed his own experiences of federal agents trailing him, stopping him without cause, and refusing to accept his legal name.
"Resistance is Futile": Government’s Unveiled Stance
The federal government’s dismissive attitude towards tribal concerns was perhaps most starkly illustrated by James Percival, general counsel of the Department of Homeland Security. Hours after the judge’s denial of the emergency injunction on August 14, Percival posted a celebratory meme on X (formerly Twitter) depicting one of the cybernetic Star Trek supervillains, "the Borg," with the caption: "RESISTANCE IS FUTILE." He added, "We respect tribal sovereignty but not to the detriment of border security. This wall is getting built. Our authority is beyond dispute." This statement, widely seen as mocking and arrogant, laid bare the administration’s true posture, contradicting previous assurances of cooperation.
CBP Commissioner Rodney Scott, in an August statement, defended the wall, describing the reservation’s southern boundary as "one of the most dangerous smuggling and trafficking corridors on the Southwest border," rife with "drug loads, migrant deaths, and cartel activity." He asserted that "Congress funded this work, a Federal court has affirmed it, and CBP is carrying it out under the legal authorities that apply. Under President Trump’s leadership, we are securing the border and giving our agents the tools and support they need to protect the American people." However, ProPublica’s extensive queries to DHS, U.S. Customs and Border Protection, and the Border Patrol regarding surveillance and interactions with tribal members went unanswered, with CBP simply referring back to Scott’s broad statement.
A Tale of Two Borders: Tohono O’odham vs. Big Bend
The disparity in the government’s approach to border wall construction became glaringly apparent when contrasted with a similar struggle in Texas. In Big Bend National Park, the Trump administration’s plans to build a wall sparked an unusual coalition of environmental nonprofits, river guides, hunters, ranchers, and local sheriffs in opposition. Just a week before the armed convoy entered the Tohono O’odham reservation, Republican Gov. Greg Abbott announced that, following discussions with the DHS secretary, he had secured a pause on the controversial Big Bend project. Abbott stated, "There are technology tools that don’t include barriers. Think of drones, think of fiber optics." This sentiment was reinforced when, last week, a judge granted a preliminary injunction halting construction in the Big Bend area while a lawsuit proceeds.
For Amy Juan, this contrast was a bitter irony. For two and a half decades, the Tohono O’odham Nation had been a de facto laboratory for the very technologies Abbott now championed as alternatives to physical barriers. Yet, when tribal leaders made this case, they were met with unyielding demands to stand down, told that the wall was inevitable. "What makes Texas the exception to us is very clear," Juan observed. "It’s good old boy conversations that are happening between the politicians and the CBP commissioners and Markwayne Mullin." This highlights a profound perceived inequity, where political leverage appears to dictate respect for local concerns, rather than consistent application of principles of sovereignty or environmental stewardship.
The Unending Vigil: A Dystopian Reality
The prayer camp at Tadai Me:i, which had been temporarily extinguished after a seven-day ceremony, was swiftly re-lit. On the morning of August 26, Davy Cross, a 57-year-old tribal member, tending the fire at 4:33 a.m., reported hearing a weapon being chambered, followed by a Border Patrol agent shining a light into Mexico and walking within feet of sleeping campers. Drones, initially visible with red lights, would later go dark as they descended, their rotors’ draft felt against the skin before they "disappeared." Soon, an airplane and helicopter joined the aerial surveillance. A caravan of over 30 Border Patrol and construction vehicles then formed a semicircle around the camp, with Mexican state police closing the loop on the international boundary, a moment captured in a widely shared social media video.
The tribe’s attorneys filed an appeal of the judge’s order, pleading for a halt to the government’s activities, arguing that the Trump administration was making "a mockery" of the court’s expectation of "consultation and cooperation." Despite these legal efforts, the incursions continued. Liz Quiroga, a 28-year-old tribal member, meticulously recorded 379 observations over five days. Nearly two-thirds involved Border Patrol units near the fire, with additional entries noting Mexican authorities and suspected "undercovers." Drones, helicopters, and planes constantly patrolled overhead. "Nobody has any idea what’s actually happening out here," Quiroga stated, describing the experience as "true dystopia."
As its legal challenge continues, the Tohono O’odham Nation has, for now, ceased attempts to physically remove border wall contractors from its lands, facing the overwhelming force of federal agents. The prayer camp at Tadai Me:i remains, a flickering symbol of resilience and resistance, continuously under the watchful, unblinking eyes of federal surveillance. The struggle over the border wall on the Tohono O’odham Nation is not merely about physical barriers; it is a profound contest over sovereignty, cultural survival, and the very definition of justice for Indigenous peoples in the face of an assertive, unwavering federal government. The implications extend far beyond the desert landscape, raising critical questions about tribal rights, environmental protection, and the true cost of national security.
Ana Megawati
Eva Lovia
Jia Lissa
Pevita Pearce
admin