Then, suddenly,
a truce was announced. In February 2010, after five years of
confidential negotiation, an unlikely alliance of American
Indian tribes, environmentalists, farmers, fishermen,
governors and the federal government signed the
Klamath Basin Restoration Agreement.
The agreement was hailed as
evidence of a new era in the West in which bitter divisions
over natural resources could be bridged. Within a decade, it
dictated, four dams would come down, enabling much of the
river to flow freely and its once-mighty run of salmon to
return. At the same time, farmers would be assured of water
for their crops and affordable power. And Indian tribes
would regain land lost decades ago.
Interior Secretary Ken Salazar said he had
expected Congress to act that year to approve the agreement,
known as the K.B.R.A., and to begin appropriating the more
than $1 billion to carry out what he called “the largest
river restoration project in the world.”
Yet more than two years later, that has not
happened, and it is unclear when, if ever, the agreement
will be enacted.
A month after it was announced, seven people
gathered at Jack Charlton’s machine shop south of downtown
Klamath Falls and formed the Klamath County Tea Party
Patriots. Four of them were farmers wary of losing their
water. One was Mr. Charlton, who fixed their equipment. Mr.
Charlton recalled the anger and worry in the room that
night. Many felt the government was more worried about
endangered fish than endangered farmers.
“It was like, ‘Where have I been?’ ” he said.
“ ‘Have I been asleep all these years?’ The last thing that
they want to take away is our water.”
The Tea Party Patriots became a local
political force, eventually paralyzing the high-powered deal
by defeating many of the local officials who supported it,
including all three Klamath County commissioners, and
sending a signal to Congress that it lacks enough
grass-roots support.
The restoration deal “is not going to go
anywhere at all,” said Tom Mallams, a farmer and newly
elected county commissioner who, with Tea Party backing,
unseated a 15-year incumbent. “It’s slowly dying on the
vine.”
The fight over the Klamath reached a heated
peak in 2001 when a severe drought prompted federal water
managers to shut off irrigation to ensure enough water for
endangered fish. The next year, Vice President Dick Cheney
came to the aid of angry farmers, making sure irrigation was
not cut off again.
That summer, 70,000 salmon died. Several
years later, commercial salmon fishing on the West Coast was
shut down in part because of the decline of salmon
populations in the Klamath. Scientific research indicated
that removing the dams was the best way to save the salmon
run.
But without the Klamath Basin Restoration
Agreement or another brokered alternative, the Klamath will
remain at the mercy of the courts and the powerful legal
forces that various groups invoked there, including the
Endangered Species Act, tribal rights and Western water law.
Environmentalists, tribes and fishermen who support the
agreement cite the Endangered Species Act to argue for
removing the dams. Farmers and others generally opposed to
the agreement cite generations-old water claims made with
the Bureau of Reclamation.
The deal’s supporters, particularly
environmentalists most adamant about removing the dams, say
more court fights are inevitable if the deal is not
confirmed by Congress — regardless of local political
developments.
Tribes in both states have claimed the
management of the river violates their 19th-century treaty
rights to fish, gather and hunt. Fear and self-preservation
prompted the talks that led to the agreement, in light of
more droughts being predicted, tribal water rights gaining
momentum in court and the power company that owns the dams
worrying about its prospects for relicensing. Nearly all of
the more than two dozen parties involved compromised their
interests to reach a consensus.
For irrigators like Tracey Liskey, a
third-generation farmer who supported the agreement — and
just lost a race for state representative — the K.B.R.A.
promised a version of stability: a reliable though not ideal
amount of water they could count on to get their alfalfa,
hay and other crops through the dry summer. At the other end
of the river, where it meets the Pacific in California, some
tribes and commercial fishermen supported the agreement
because it offered more security that river flows would not
fall below what it takes to maintain a healthy salmon
habitat.
The power company, PacifiCorp, agreed to the
deal when it became clear that relicensing the dams would be
more expensive and more trying than removing them. And while
some tribes rejected the agreement, most believed it offered
them a way to remove the dams and restore the river. A group
of three called the Klamath Tribes agreed to give up some
control of the water to regain tens of thousands of acres
for timber production that they had relinquished decades
earlier.
The Klamath Tribes have recently received
favorable rulings in state administrative courts on lawsuits
they first filed in the 1970s to gain control of the water
upstream. If the tribes eventually win — a decision is due
late this year — opponents of the agreement could find
themselves wishing they had been more supportive. “It’s
about economies, and the Klamath Tribes’ economy is just as
important as anyone else’s economy,” said Jeff Mitchell, a
member of the Klamath tribal council who has been central to
negotiations for the agreement.
Mr. Mallams and some of the agreement’s other
most vocal opponents do not draw water directly from the
irrigation system, but they benefit from it in other ways,
including from the affordable power supply the dams have
provided. They frequently accuse supporters of the agreement
of wanting to remove the Klamath dams as part of an
environmental campaign to remove much larger dams on the
Columbia River that provide the backbone of the power supply
in the Northwest.
Mr. Salazar said in an interview that he
remained optimistic that Congress would eventually approve
the deal. Some supporters say opponents are stirring
division with no clear agenda.
“I always refer to us as the radical middle
because there’s nothing radical in the Klamath about
fighting over water,” said Craig Tucker, the Klamath
coordinator for the Karuk Tribe of Northern California and a
supporter of the 2010 agreement. “What’s radical is learning
how to share."