http://www.dailynews.com/opinions/ci_3424796
Article Launched: 01/22/2006 12:00:00 AM
Indian gaming woes
By Jan Golab, Guest Columnist
Lobbyist Jack Abramoff's revelations of political corruption should come as
no surprise. A tsunami of scandals has been all but inevitable ever since
"tribal sovereignty" was codified by Congress in 1988 with the Indian
Gaming Regulatory Act.
Thanks to IGRA, Indian gaming has grown from nothing in just 20 years into
a $19 billion-a-year industry and our nation's largest special-interest
group. Today, virtually every politician in Washington has taken money from
Indian tribes. Some lawmakers have, in turn, served as legislative
activists, expanding tribal sovereignty, often pushing through legislation
to recognize previously unknown "tribes" or "tribal lands." This form of
"reservation shopping," which has led to many new gambling resorts, is
truly scandalous.
But it has made Abramoff and his partner, Michael Scanlon, rich. The two
collected more than $80 million in three years in fees from Indian tribes
trying to get casinos - or block other tribes from getting casinos - to buy
influence on Capitol Hill. Experts say they are only the tip of the iceberg
in a growing scandal. Among the California legislators who may now soon be
subject to scrutiny are Democratic Sen. Barbara Boxer and Reps. George
Miller, D-Vallejo; Mary Bono, R-Palm Springs; Hilda Solis, D-El Monte; and
Joe Baca, D-San Bernardino.
Corruption was unavoidable because the notion of tribal sovereignty - a
government within a government - is a concept from another age that no
longer works today.
The notion goes back a century to when native populations were
dispossessed, to when the U.S. was an agrarian nation without the modern
economic development it has today. By the 1960s, those Indians who still
remained on reservations were entrapped in squalor, suffering from the
nation's worst poverty, lack of education, alcoholism and disease. In the
1980s, some tribes began to resurrect and champion the concept of "tribal
sovereignty" as a means to establish economic development.
The roots of the Indian gaming revolution were truly humble. It began here
in Southern California, with tax-free roadside cigarettes in Indio, Quonset
hut bingo parlors, clapboard card rooms and, finally, casinos. Although
repeatedly closed down by local and state authorities, these businesses
survived due to favorable court rulings. "Tribal sovereignty" was finally
recognized by the Supreme Court in the 1987 case of U.S. v. Cabazon. Eager
to show simpatico with Indian tribes, Congress hastily passed IGRA in 1988.
However well-intentioned, IGRA has since proved to be a terrible law.
Vague, fuzzy and unclear, it soon led to the granting of lucrative
monopolies on gambling within states that do not otherwise allow gambling.
This quickly became a mechanism for the gambling industry to enter states
where gambling had been illegal for more than a century. It also pitted
tribes against tribes, against their own members and communities, and
created impossible entanglements of governance and jurisdiction.
Enter Jack Abramoff.
The amount of money to be made in Indian gaming was staggering, but
depended on whether a tribe could qualify for recognition, and whether it
could keep competition out of the area. Lawmakers suddenly had the power to
make or break billion-dollar corporations, which turned to high-priced
lobbyists to do their bidding.
And while tribal gaming has brought lobbyists, the casino industry and some
Indian tribes and their leaders staggering wealth, most Indians still live
in poverty. Between 1988 and 1998, poverty and unemployment rates changed
little on our nation's reservations. In 2000, The Boston Globe concluded
that just 2 percent of Indians earned 50 percent of all tribal gaming
revenues, and that two-thirds got nothing at all. Members of gaming tribes
are often unable to obtain information on how much their own tribe is
earning or how it is being distributed. Others have been expelled from
their tribes by tribal leaders seeking to increase their own share of the
profits.
The unintended consequences of IGRA are both Byzantine and well-documented,
even though members of Congress, who have come to rely on tribal campaign
donations, steadfastly pretend to be unaware of them.
Aggrieved citizens cite a litany of woes: Tribal casinos have a negative
impact on roads, water and land consumption; fire, police and ambulance
service; air pollution and traffic. They flood local schools with the
children of low-income casino workers, who also create a shortage of
affordable housing. They hurt or bankrupt competing concerns like motels,
restaurants, bars and gas stations. They cause property devaluation and
lost taxes when businesses and lands are taken over by tax-exempt tribes,
altering community character and the quality of life. They necessitate
lengthy and expensive legal battles over tribal land annexation,
environmental and land-use regulations, sovereign immunity from lawsuits
and police jurisdiction.
Meanwhile, the social costs of gambling include increased bankruptcies,
foreclosures, divorces, child abuse and crime.
And who pays for it all? State and local - not tribal - governments, which
are often left teetering on the brink of bankruptcy.
Dismayed citizens whisper of skyrocketing crime due to casinos,
particularly high drug activity; drunk driving and high-speed chases; of
kids exposed to gambling, alcohol and drugs; of spoiled environments and
destroyed habitats. Local officials, who should be protecting these
citizens, are often bought off.
All of which has ultimately proved most damaging to the very people tribal
sovereignty and gambling were supposed to help. One Indian commentator,
David Yeagley, has already predicted that casinos will cause Indians to
lose their tribal status and their reservations. "Casinos will destroy
Indians," he has written. "The American people will call for the government
to eliminate the reservations completely. Laws will ensue. It's just a
matter of time."
In the wake of Jack Abramoff, Rep. Mike Rogers, R-Mich., has already called
for comprehensive reform of Indian gaming law, as well as a two-year
moratorium on casino expansion. Given the corruption that the failed
experiment has created, that seems like a no-brainer.
Indeed, Congress created this mess. It's time Congress cleaned it up.
Jan Golab is a freelance writer living in the San Fernando Valley.