In a singular act of bravery and environmental protection, Julia “Butterfly” Hill climbed a 200-foot California redwood 29 years ago and lived there for 738 consecutive days to protect the 1,000-year-old tree she named Luna from a clear-cut logging operation in Humboldt County, California. She lived in a tent on a 6 x 4-foot platform for more than two years until the Pacific Lumber Company agreed to save the ancient tree and a grove around it.
That unwavering spirit of protection for nature lives on today in Lochiel, Arizona, where a group of activists have been occupying a 200-year-old cottonwood tree for nearly a month to prevent it from becoming another casualty of the border wall.
The history of effective peaceful protest is long and rich, dating back to Mahatma Gandhi, who eventually won India’s independence from British colonial rule through occupations, economic boycotts and massive marches, and Martin Luther King Jr., who employed the same tactics to win meaningful rights for African Americans.
In the remote Big Bend region of Texas, we are now at the forefront of a national movement to protect our public lands.
Fighting against the threat of a border barrier has far too long been a part of life in the borderlands, although we never imagined the blatant disregard for our rights, our economy, and the ecology of our public lands as we bear witness to the illogical and heartbreaking destruction along the Rio Grande in Big Bend National Park.
The bulldozing of the area around Santa Elena and Mariscal Canyon are tantamount to acts of war against our public lands, and outrage rises like a thunderous storm across the United States. We are inspired by this bipartisan, heart-piercing war-cry from almost every corner. This is what love, love for our wild public lands, looks like. And yet, it may be falling on deaf ears by many of those elected to serve us.
The tragedy and subsequent backlash unfolding in Big Bend harkens to powerful movements led for centuries by Indigenous cultures around the world, heralding the rights of nature and the rights of humans to access untouched, protected public wilderness. In nations like New Zealand, Colombia and Ecuador, rights of nature have even been enshrined in national constitutions.
The passion and fury over the blatant disregard for the river, canyons, plants, animals, archeological histories and ecological integrity of our public lands in the unchecked building of roads and infrastructure for migration enforcement in Big Bend has awakened a powerful, diverse coalition opposed to it. We are not going away. This movement will only magnify and grow with intensity if the destruction of our public lands continues.
Our presence is our greatest power, not to break laws but to uphold them. No matter your location, you can advocate for public lands in whatever manner your talents, circumstances and resources allow.
Texas is more than a state. It is an idea, an idea that stands for the rights of an individual to protect their land from illegal confiscation, to guard itself against unlawful federal action, and to preserve icons like national and state parks. It is up to us to ensure that this national disgrace in Washington leaves no more lasting scars.
The communities, friendships, and organizations we form around this common passion for public lands are major ingredients in the transformative movements inspired by Gandhi, King, Julia Hill and us.
And if you pray for Big Bend, pray for rain. Mother nature always has the last word. Those of us who know the Rio Grande have seen the powers of weather to alter landscapes and sweep away the temporal structures of humankind.
Kleo Belay is a writer, editor and expedition guide with decades of experience in Big Bend and the Colorado River. Sidney Balman Jr. is a Pulitzer-nominated war correspondent, former writer in residence at Sul Ross State University and author of the recently released novel The Mural, based on the 2022 Uvalde school shooting. Sidbalman.com
