After Years of Negotiation, U.S. Government Finally Discovers Ancestors Had a Thing or Two to Say About Their Own Land

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In a plot twist that would make a soap opera writer weep with envy, the U.S. government has finally decided to play nice with the Jemez Pueblo after a legal battle that could only be described as the world’s longest game of “hot potato,” albeit with land instead of a potato and sacred rights instead of hot fingers. The years of back-and-forth have culminated in a settlement over the Valles Caldera National Preserve—an area that seems to exist primarily to remind us all that while land is sacred, the battle for it is shockingly mundane.

Following a lukewarm coffee-fueled negotiation marathon, the government has agreed to recognize the tribe’s rights to a small, 5-square-mile slice of cultural pie—a welcome gesture, especially when one considers that the 140-square-mile preserve is basically a scenic postcard of absurd bureaucracy and history-shaped tumbleweeds. U.S. Interior Secretary Deb Haaland, who should definitely be getting hazard pay for navigating this mess, proclaimed that it’s “essential” to let the original stewards of the land get back to their spiritual roots—presumably after centuries of being tossed around like a bingo ball during a family reunion.

What’s truly striking about this historic settlement is that it marks the first time a tribe has actually argued its way through the legal labyrinth and emerged with a scrap of what it’s owed, proving that when life gives you lemons, make lemonade—or in this case, make ancestral rights. Attorney Randolph Barnhouse, clearly taking his cue from the political Franklin in “Billy on the Street,” described the agreement as “monumental,” highlighting that the country remains entirely persistent in its commitment to co-stewardship—a fancy way of saying, “We’ll share, if you don’t mind us sitting at the adult table and taking way more than our fair share.”

The pueblo, expressing the kind of optimism only a decade-long court battle could create, lauded this as a new dawn for collaboration with federal land managers. Meanwhile, the universe chuckled, knowing this “collaboration” might involve throwing a few dollars around before someone points out the elephant in the room—land that was never actually “theirs” to divvy up in the first place. In the great American tradition of ignoring inconvenient histories, many court filings remain redacted, wrapped in secrecy like a beloved exhibit on “How Not to Share.”

Amidst vast grasslands and famous elk herds—which, one imagines, are probably plotting their escape from all this nonsense—the Valles Caldera appears to be an earthbound metaphor for everything that’s wrong and absurd about land rights in a nation that prides itself on being built on “freedom.” Yes, folks, while it may seem tragic on the surface, witnessing a tribe claw back a fragment of their heritage is just another reminder that in America, the absurd has become the new normal—where indigenous rights get a seat at the table, albeit still in a corner, followed closely by the sound of lingering bureaucracy sighing heavily.