- Who determines where and how water flows?

Can someone claim water as theirs and take away your access to it?

Turns out, the answer is yes.

At least for Indigenous communities throughout the western United States.

For centuries, Indigenous tribal nations have carefully stewarded the limited water resources of the West, treating it as a sacred, a communal resource.

But today, these resources are drying up.

Animals are losing their habitats, local economies impacted, and the health of vulnerable communities is at risk.

- Native American families are 19 times more likely than white households to lack running water in their homes.

And when we look at some communities like Navajo Nation specifically, it goes even higher to 67 times - Here in Utah and across the country.

Water isn't just a resource, it's a battleground where the sacred meets the stolen.

But how did we get here?

Who determines where and how water flows?

And as rivers and lakes lose their vitality, who reaps the benefits and who gets left out to dry?

I'm Harini Bhat, and this is In The Margins.

Utah's Great Salt Lake is the biggest saltwater lake in the Western hemisphere and ranks eighth globally.

It serves as a habitat for over 12 million migratory birds across 339 species, and supports significant economic activity in the region, contributing nearly $2 billion to Utah's economy annually.

But let's take it back for a moment.

In 1847, Mormon pioneers settled these lands and soon began making drastic shifts to the flow of the Great Basin's water resources.

The settlers understood that water irrigation systems in the desert were essential for agriculture and began constructing dams and canals that diverted the freshwater streams flowing into the Great Salt Lake to support their settlements.

A key example of this is the damning of the Jordan River, a critical water supplier to the Great Salt Lake.

With the success of their irrigation systems, Mormon settlements quickly expanded, but wait, people were already living here and using this water.

Around 12,000 years ago, human settlers began inhabiting the valleys surrounding the Great Salt Lake, known as Pia-pa in Western Shoshone.

And the Shoshone, Paiute, Ute, and Goshute tribal nations became Indigenous to the Great Basin.

For thousands of years, these nations honored, protected and stewarded the lake's resources through sustainable and communal practices.

By relying on natural seasonal flows and avoiding modifications of waterways, they preserved biodiversity and ensured long-term access to clean water, nutrient-rich plants, and thriving habitats.

This centuries' old approach was deeply rooted in respect for nature, essential to community wellbeing, and intertwined with their cultural identity and survival.

But with the arrival of Mormon settlers, competition over water, land, and food sources intensified.

The extensive network of dams, ditches, and canals for irrigation drastically reduced river and lake water levels and Indigenous groups lost access to hunting grounds, fishing areas, and drinking water.

- And so really water use was made for the settlers who were coming.

And just like the settlers would displace Native people on their lands, they would also displace them from use of the water - Resource competition.

And settler encroachments led to full on conflicts throughout the 1850s and sixties like the Walker War and Black Hawk War, both of which led to mass displacements of Indigenous peoples.

And then there was the Bear River Massacre of 1863, where militia men killed at least 250 Indigenous people of the Northwestern Shoshone over access to the many resources of the Cache Valley.

Many historians call it the deadliest attack on Indigenous people in US history.

Decades later, in 1922, inequity in Utah's water distribution was codified in the Colorado River Compact, where water rights were allocated to seven US states.

But Indigenous nations were completely excluded from both the negotiation table and water access.

- The water law system was not designed really with the Native American people in mind.

It was designed with settlers in mind.

- Throughout much of the mid 20th century, the US Bureau of Indian Affairs and the Bureau of Reclamation held significant control over water projects in the West, but those projects were not enough to provide Native nations with what they needed.

- The federal government in the West invested a lot of money in putting in infrastructure to communities, but Native communities were largely overlooked in those efforts.

- This era also saw Indigenous people suffer from urban relocation programs, federal policies that distanced many communities from their traditional lands, culture, and resources, including water.

- Given that we were only rewarding a certain segment of society at that point, that that meant the Indigenous people weren't given a share.

And so in a lot of ways, water rights rewarded the haves more than the have nots.

- But Indigenous people soon began fighting for their water rights through legal action.

The 1963 Supreme Court case, Arizona v California reserved water rights for five Indian reservations on the Colorado River.

Other tribes also pursued litigation, but despite some important legal victories, challenges persist, especially with water infrastructure.

- It takes a lot to get from having a water right, something kind of recognized on paper to actually utilizing it and putting it to use.

- The ongoing neglect and mismanagement of water resources continues to threaten Indigenous communities and ecosystems alike.

A striking example of this is Utah's Great Salt Lake, now sometimes referred to as an environmental nuclear bomb.

Not only is the lake shrinking as a result of decades of mismanagement, the region's biodiversity is under assault as well.

- Less freshwater inflow into the lake means the lake starts to shrink.

And there is this water cycle that if the lake shrinks, so does the amount of snowfall.

So there is sort of a dangerous path that we're we're treading here, - And with nearly 800 square miles of the lakebed exposed, arsenic and other metals pose risks such as cardiovascular disease and asthma.

But there's an even more immediate impact.

Windstorms frequently kick up toxic dust from the exposed lakebed, leading to severe air pollution.

- Natural occurring pollutants like arsenic, for example, are in higher concentrations that within the dust of this lake than what we would allow for in industrial business.

And this dust is then picked up and then distributed across our community.

- And because of the Salt Lake Valley's layout, this pollution disproportionately impacts Pacific Islander Latino, and you guessed it, Indigenous communities.

But historical water policies that harm marginalized communities aren't just happening in Utah.

They remain present-day issues across the United States.

Let's head over to Central California.

The Central Valley Project, or CVP of 1933 was designed to provide irrigation and municipal water to the region via a series of canals and pumping facilities.

The CVP addressed water needs and later incorporated water scarcity issues, but it also contributed to an over-reliance on groundwater extraction.

As a result, low-income, predominantly Latino farm worker communities are disproportionately impacted, suffering from contaminated wells and worsening health disparities linked to lacking clean drinking water.

And just a few states over in Arizona, New Mexico, and Utah, severe water scarcity persists for the Navajo Nation.

Stemming from the exclusionary policies of the Colorado River Compact, many Navajo Nation members still lack infrastructure for clean drinking water and sanitation.

In fact, one in three Navajo households lack any running water at all.

So we've talked about water access in the West and how we got here, but with climate change ushering in more severe droughts and wildfires, the big question is where do we go from here?

Well, we might not have to look too far for a possible answer.

- There has been a shift to recognize the importance of traditional knowledges.

So this understanding that you should be in relation with our relatives.

The water, the land, the earth, other species that.

It's a relationship that we hold with them.

- Indigenous stewardship practices have proven to be a viable antidote to the climate crisis.

After all, Indigenous peoples manage or have rights to about 25% of the earth's land, but their territories contain 80% of the world's remaining biodiversity or the variety of life in an ecosystem.

By utilizing traditional ecological knowledge or TEK, Indigenous communities are prioritizing ecosystem health, conserving essential species like the beaver, and effectively managing their water supply.

Let's take the Northwestern Band of the Shoshone Nation, for example.

After losing nearly all their ancestral land and experiencing severe environmental degradation, they are reclaiming and restoring the land.

Their restoration project focuses on environmental regeneration and climate resilience by restoring wetlands and replanting native trees.

And get this, the project is anticipated to return 10,000 acre-feet of water back to the Great Salt Lake.

- If the Shoshone are successful in getting additional water into those reserves, which would be great for the habitat there, it'd be great for the birds.

It will be great for the lake, and eventually it will be great for everybody who breathes air here, because that's going to be more dust spots that are covered.

- The Shoshone's restoration efforts demonstrate that reinforcing traditional land management practices supports biodiversity in combats climate change, highlighting TEK's critical role in climate resilience.

And this model could serve as a blueprint for when creating policy to combat the impacts of climate change, emphasizing environmental care, ecological harmony, and reinforcing traditional land management practices.

The water crisis facing Utah and the West isn't just ecological, it's a crisis of conscience.

- We have to acknowledge all of our history and the way that we have marginalized or overlooked certain communities, and I think we do have a responsibility to remedy that historic wrong.

- Right now, more than 60 Indigenous nations across the region are collectively demanding protection of their water rights.

- I'm a mom myself, right?

Our Indigenous youth, they're proud of who they are.

They hold onto their identity and they're getting educated.

We have more Native hydrologists, more Native attorneys to fight for our rights to be making those decisions.

And so I think our leaders have really stepped up and our communities themselves to not accept the status quo - And it's working.

Policymakers and communities alike are increasingly turning toward TEK as one pathway toward greater resilience and sustainability.

In 2024, California passed Assembly Bill 1284, integrating TEK into the state's conservation strategies.

As the climate crisis intensifies, we're reminded that water isn't just life.

It's a story of who we are, what we value, and the future we're building together.

How has the story changed the way you think about water rights?

In what ways do you think you and your community can learn from TEK?

Thanks for watching.