The Moon, Mars,
And Chumash Traditionalism

The State of California and the aerospace industry have joined together to promote a commercial spaceport on the Pacific coast of the ancient Chumash nation. The Chumash were the state's largest cultural group, prior to their decimation in the California Mission system. Now, they are confined to just ninety nine acres of reservation land, while the majority of their people remain landless and lack federal recognition.

The spaceport under construction is located west of Santa Barbara. The first stages of construction for this spaceport have been completed, but recent discovery of ice on the moon have greatly accelerated the timetable for development. 2 The presence of water means the moon?s mineral wealth can be extracted at a much lower cost than previously predicted. And, even more promising, the water on the moon can be converted to low cost rocket fuel. This will enable aerospace corporations to use the moon, decades earlier then expected, as a staging ground for commercial exploitation of Mars. Water is available on both the north and south pole of Mars, in much larger quantities than on the moon.3

Suddenly, promises of immense profits for industry and huge tax increases for the State of California have stimulated a space race between American and foreign countries.4 The California spaceport being built on what was once western Chumash lands thus aspires, like its competitors, to be humanity?s commercial ladder to the stars. The promotional literature of the aerospace industry and the State of California promise immense corporate profits if state laws can be changed to facilitate the rapid development of the spaceport.

Special tax exemptions for the space industry have already been approved by the state legislature. But in the haste to rush forward, the aerospace industry and the state government appear to have already made a tactical mistake. They failed to bring the non-reservation Chumash Indians in as full participants in the planning of the spaceport. Moreover, the company building the first stages of the California spaceport hired university trained researchers to investigate Chumash sites in the vicinity and make recommendations for planning purposes. This corporate funded research appears to have been used as the basis for a factious article published in a leading international journal of anthropology. This publication explored a number of issues which might impact the ability of the vast majority of Chumash descendants, who consider themselves Traditionalists, to participate in future negotiations over Chumash religious and archaeological sites.5 It specifically questioned the validity of contemporary Chumash religious beliefs about the greater Point Conception region, denying its importance as a major pan-Chumash shrine.6 Not surprisingly, the publication of these charges caused discord among the many Chumash groups concerned with cultural preservation.

Due to a slow pace of newspaper and magazine investigative reporting on these developments, the public has little understanding of the seriousness of what may become an increasingly contentious relationships between the aerospace industry and the American Indians. Many organizations which previously supported Traditional Chumash are still unaware of the economic and political powers now allied against the Chumash Traditionalists. Events are moving so rapidly, however, that the public may only learn about the real power struggles after-the-fact.

There have been many ups and downs in public support for various Chumash groups in the past. The peaceful occupation of Point Conception by the Chumash and their sympathizers was a high point in public support, and the digging of the Chevron pipeline was another peak of coalition building between the Chumash and non-Indian supporters.7 In retrospect, however, 1993 was the triggering year for the current spaceport fracas. Vandenberg Air Force Base, occupying a huge area of the Chumash coast a short distance downstream was the only location where commercial space activities were taking place in 1993. This was the year when California legislators enacted a law to exclude the commercial space industry from state sales taxes. Critics of this legislation described it as ?corporate welfare'. Supporters argued that special tax favors for industry would bolster California?s competitiveness in aerospace.

A number of national aerospace giants saw potential for immense profits if they could obtain a position of leadership in the California market. Among them was the corporation called the California Commercial Spaceport, which is located in the ancient Chumash town of Lompoc next to the Vandenberg base. This corporation is currently operating a launching complex which it describes as a state-of--the- art- facility. This section of the California coast is ideal for a commercial spaceport, their promotional literature advises, because it is ideally positioned to provide direct injection of space vehicles into a broad range of popular orbital inclinations. And best of all, no overflights will take place over populated areas.9

But I am concerned that the company literature may be inadequately informing investors about the negative impact commercial rockets will have on coastal flora and fauna. Investors are assured, instead, that they will benefit from reduced environmental permit requirements being pushed by pro-growth state politicians, enamored by Department of Defense booster and satellite programs.10 But what effect will toxic rocket fuel have as it drifts down in massive amounts after lift off over the coastal environment? And what effect will the awesome sound of the rocket motors and shock waves have on migrating whales, breeding ocean mammals resting on nearby mainland and island beaches, and the ocean bird flyway which links birds from southern California and Mexico to the critical summer feeding grounds of the Northwest and Canada?