In Battle to Save Sacred Land From Mining Giants, Apaches Hope for a Miracle

OAK FLAT, Ariz.—In the Western Apache religion, this preserve of stunning rock formations and ancient oak groves for centuries has served as a spiritual refuge.

Now its use as a site for tribal prayer and rituals may be nearing an end. After years of legal battles that ultimately reached the Supreme Court, plans made by two of the world’s most valuable mining companies to develop the area into a giant copper mine appear more likely to proceed.

“We talk about a miracle,” said Wendsler Nosie Sr. as he rallied about two dozen mostly Apache runners after they completed a 130-mile sacred run through the area, carrying prayer staffs and eagle feathers along the final stretch.

Nosie, a descendant of Apache warriors, leads the Apache Stronghold, a coalition of Apaches, other Native Americans, Christian groups, environmentalists and outdoor enthusiasts. Legal observers see few paths left to stop the mine’s development, which a federal report says will turn the area now on national forest land into a crater nearly 2 miles wide and up to 1,115 feet deep.

In 2021 the coalition filed a lawsuit challenging on religious grounds the constitutionality of a federal land transfer needed for the mining project. But the appeals process upheld the deal and in May the Supreme Court rejected the group’s plea to hear the case.

The Apache Stronghold asked the Supreme Court to reconsider, a long shot in part because the high court rarely does so. But two conservative justices wrote they wanted to hear it, and other lawyers say the group has raised a valid point for review—namely that the court recently overturned a lower court on another religious-freedom case. No date is set for the court to decide, but people close to the case expect it soon.

Two other suits challenging the federal environmental-impact statement for the mine, including one by the San Carlos Apache Tribe, could slow but not likely stop the project, legal experts say.

Officials of Resolution Copper, a project of Rio Tinto and BHP, the foreign mining giants that will take ownership of Oak Flat, say they have already set aside “culturally significant” areas for the Apache to continue to use, including a campground under centuries-old Emory oaks where tribal elders say many Apache ceremonies have been held.

Other historic landmarks would also be preserved, including Apache Leap, a cliff where dozens of warriors cornered by the U.S. Cavalry are said to have jumped to their deaths. Vicky Peacey, Resolution Copper president, said drilling under about a third of Oak Flat would cause that area to subside gradually, over many decades, as a rich deposit of copper is mined a mile or more deep.

Oak Flat won’t be “lost forever,” Peacey said. “I know it won’t be.”

Nosie shrugs off those assurances. “It will be private property,” he said. “They can do what they want.”

A runner passes a headframe for a mine while participating in a multiday prayer run to Oak Flat in Miami, Ariz.

The companies say the mine could supply as much as a quarter of current U.S. demand for copper, a metal viewed as essential for many technological advances, from electric vehicles to the data centers powering the artificial-intelligence boom. The project aligns with Washington’s efforts to boost U.S. minerals production and reduce America’s reliance on foreign supplies.

Some Apaches support the mine for its job potential, as do local communities throughout this region about an hour east of Phoenix. It’s called the Copper Triangle because so much of the metal is there.

Michael Woodbury, 55 years old, a San Carlos reservation member, has a contracting business that does work for Resolution Copper. He supports his reservation, and developing the mine.

Another Apache, Dee Randall, 62, said the San Carlos reservation’s roughly 17,000 residents comprise several clans; some hold Oak Flat sacred and others like his own don’t. “I respect what Wendsler is trying to do,” Randall said. “But also tribal members need jobs.”

Oak Flat, or Chi’chil Bildagoteel as it is known by its native name, is listed on the National Register of Historic Places as having archaeological sites showing a long connection to the Apache and other indigenous people and occupying a landscape “whose physical and spiritual integrity is vital to the continuation of fully effective Western Apache cultural practices.” Evidence of indigenous occupation, like ancient pottery shards—some with intricate designs—lie just outside the campground.

Nosie, 66, said his tribe was forced out of Oak Flat and other traditional Arizona mountain haunts following its war with the U.S. Cavalry. They ended up corralled on the San Carlos desert outpost, where he remembers as a boy seeing older Apache men weeping, recalling their homeland.

He told the elders he planned to one day return to live there, and in 2019, he did—taking up residence in a trailer at Oak Flat.

Oak Flat, or Chi’chil Bildagoteel as it is known by its native name, is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

Nosie, who once served as chairman of the San Carlos tribe, says he founded Apache Stronghold and waged war against the U.S. government much as his great grandfather did when he rode with the legendary warrior Geronimo and other Chiricahua Apaches until their surrender in 1886. But this time, his weapons have been lawyers, press releases—and, most importantly to him, prayer.

“They’re in Apache country and you are our warriors,” Nosie told the runners assembled at dawn in the mining city of Globe, Ariz., on the last day of their recent three-day marathon from Mount Graham, another sacred site.

When the runners arrived at Oak Flat hours later, they entered the campground to cheers from other Apaches and supporters. Some were still shaken after a few trucks from presumed mine supporters “rolled coal” on them, or blew out diesel exhaust. The previous evening, a man in a pickup spun doughnuts on a gravel lot where they ate pizza.

“I’m mad just like you guys,” Nosie said as some dabbed tears. “But I don’t fight. You need to get to the very end [of the run] so that these supernatural powers will do what they need to do.”

Members of the San Carlos Apache Tribe, friends and supporters participate in a traditional dance.

At the gathering, children played among tents, older people talked in the shade and Apache women prepared an assembly-line lunch including fry bread and refried beans.

Some said they felt fearful. One of Nosie’s granddaughters, Naelyn Nosie, 26, said an adolescent runner that morning was crying, worried she might not be able to have her coming-of-age ceremony at Oak Flat this fall.

The next morning, more than 100 Apaches and supporters gathered for a sacred Ga’an ceremony. “OK guys, they’re coming,” Nosie said after a long wait under the oaks. Five dancers, representing mountain spirits, appeared with white-painted bodies and waved wooden swords as other Apaches danced and chanted in a circle around them.

Mary Goering of Evanston, Ill., said the experience left her forgetting for the moment the despair she felt after the Supreme Court decision. “Things might get bad later,” said Goering, who came with a delegation of Mennonites, “but for today we have this place.”