"I was born on the prairies where the wind blew free and there was nothing to break the light of the sun. I was born where there were no enclosures."
Geronimo, Chiricahua Apache
Irony Is A Green Eyed Gemstones
For centuries, European settlers spilled across North America, chewing up the native peoples and spitting them out in their quest for manifest destiny and coast-to-coast dominance. They slaughtered Iroquois, relocated Cherokee and Seminole, all in the pursuit of green - greener pastures, greener money, and, in the case of the San Carlos Apache, the green metal buried in the copper-rich mountains that lay within the original reservation borders established in 1871.
Today, the reservation borders are fixed (though the ongoing debate over water and mineral rights signifies that the days of broken promises are far from over). Stability has come at a price, however. The six recognized groups of Apache that once held sway over a territory that stretched from Western Arizona to Texas, from the foothills of the Rocky Mountains to Northern Mexico, are now confined to a handful of reservations in Arizona, New Mexico and Oklahoma.
Geronimo's "land of no enclosures" has been reduced to a patchwork of tiny islands whose clearly-defined borders are all too painful reminders of what once was. Yet in at least one of those islands, a remarkable turning-of-the-tables is taking place. In their hunger for copper, the US government and various mining concerns cut into the San Carlos reservation bit-by-bit, vein-by-vein, until they had reduced the size of the original grant by more than half. Little did they know, they were forcibly moving the San Carlos Apache right smack onto a gold mine.
Or a peridot mine, to be more precise. By the time all was said and done, the San Carlos Apache found themselves inhabiting perhaps the most gemstone-rich piece of land in the United States - with the most significant peridot deposit in the entire world right in the middle. And this time they aren't moving.
Call To Action
"My people got screwed," says Charles Vargas, the owner of Apache Gems and my guide for a tour of the San Carlos Apache Reservation.
He chuckles as we bounce up the dirt road to Peridot Mesa in his pickup truck, but Vargas is not smiling as he elaborates: "Outsiders [non-Apache] used to come up here and buy five-gallon buckets of peridot rough for $2 to $5 per pound - the miners didn't know what it was really worth, and the buyers weren't about to tell them."
The exploitation isn't limited to peridot miners. Vargas describes basket weavers, doll makers and other masters of centuries-old crafts selling their wares for a pittance to brokers who then turn around and sell such genuine native art for a fortune to the outside world. "And that's not even getting into what the United States government did to the Apache people," he says.
Vargas is part of a new generation of miners in San Carlos who are using their power as the prime source of the world's peridot to negotiate better prices for rough and even set up their own cutting, polishing and distribution channels. Teaming up with other Apache craftspeople, as well as a vocal group of activists calling itself Call to Action (CTA), Vargas and his brothers Michael and Ray are seeking to redefine relations between San Carlos and the outside world, and more specifically, shake up the casino politics that dominate theirs and so many other reservations in the US.
"Last year was huge," says Vargas, referring to a tumultuous year in which CTA, with support from the American Indian Movement (AIM) ousted several long-serving tribal council members regarded by the group as corrupt. Questions of missing finances, mineral leases, and disputed water rights, which had long been kept secret from the people, were brought to light.
It was a make-or-break year for San Carlos, says Vargas. Indeed, the residents of any given reservation are painfully aware that internal disputes can damage their status as miniature nations within the borders of the most economically and politically sprawling nation of them all. AIM has weathered a number of such battles on behalf of native peoples over the years, and "T," a member of the movement's Arizona chapter says the reason they stood by CTA was simply that the people of San Carlos were crying out for change. "Our stance on San Carlos was that it was always what the Elders wanted ... which appeared to be that they wished to be rid of a corrupt council," says T.
Vargas has a sparkle in his eye as he describes the possibilities that have opened for San Carlos after the events of 1998. "I'm glad you're doing this story now. We're really starting to see some of the positive improvements we've made over the past year." Up on Peridot Mesa, the most positive improvement has been the flow of information among the miners themselves, many of whom have banded together to form the Apache Gem Miner Organization. Few are as active politically as Vargas, but all have at least subconsciously taken CTA's push for empowerment to heart in their dealings with brokers.
"There's really been a change with the miners," says Vargas. "They're starting to be more aware of the value of their output - a lot of them are even grading the rough themselves."
Peridot Mining Apache-Style
Digging Up The Green
At about midday, we park near the lip of one of the open-face pits that dot the mesa, providing access to the individual peridot grains and aggregates of grains that occur in a three to 35-meter thick basalt that forms the top and sides of the table-top.
Like a tremendous pillbox hat sheltering San Carlos town, Peridot Mesa seems smaller from the top. Its flatness leads one to forget the elevation completely and a glance at the surrounding mountains soon puts to rest any lingering feelings of self-importance. Scattered about the grass and rocks of the table-top like crumbs left by a messy giant with a fondness for Grannie Sookers are tiny grains of bright green to olive-green peridot.
Vargas points out his claim just beyond a ridge before signaling to a trio of miners working a rock face with picks and hammers about 100 yards away and out of earshot. Through hand-signals he indicates that he's ready to buy rough. The miners signal that they don't have enough material yet, but to come back later.
Mining on Peridot Mesa is strictly open-face, with explosives and earth-moving equipment brought in when required - and when a claim-owner can afford to bust through some eight yards of overburden to get to the layer of black basalt containing pockets of densely-packed crystals.
Peridot, the gem species of olivine, occurs primarily in basalt, or lava rock, forming in magma bursts from deep in the earth's mantle. By comparison, diamond is formed relatively high in the mantle. Peridot can be found in a number of locations on the reservation, which is situated on a basalt volcanic field that consists of cone and lava flow remnants, but the major deposit is at the mesa, which is literally a mountain of olivine and the most highly concentrated deposit of gem-quality peridot in the world.
"We look at the deposit as our permanent bank account," says Vargas. "When anybody needs some extra money, they can go up to the mesa, break a few rocks and take out what they need."
There is a reverence for the land among the miners. They see the mesa as a blessing, and are in no way tempted to bring up really heavy equipment, tear the strip of overburden off in one fell swoop, root out the gemstones and move on. "This deposit isn't just about us, it's about our children and our children's children," says Tony, a heavyset miner working a claim in the far northern corner of the mesa.
"It's different with the taxpayers," he laughs, using a friendly yet clearly derisive term for non-Natives.
"This place is our own small country - a Third World country inside a First World one," says Vargas. "We've got our own borders, our own laws, our own way of doing things."
Indeed, there is a sharp contrast between the inch-by-inch, pick-and-hammer mining up on the mesa and the land-ravaging copper recovery just off the reservation in Globe, where mountain-high piles of slag and parched hillsides sucked dry of all mineral resources are the local landmarks.
The Lure Of Peridot
As recently as 1993, San Carlos was producing from 80 to 95 percent of the world's gem-grade peridot, according to the US Geological Survey.
These days, however, Apache miners face stiff competition from Pakistan and China, where the large, cheap labor force working the deposits has some in San Carlos worried that they won't be able to keep up.
As American Gem Trade Association director Doug Hucker told April's AGS Conclave in New Orleans, "Peridot is hot right now." That may have been an understatement. With industry insiders pointing to plans by at least one famous high-end jewelry retailer and telemarketing giant QVC to push American gemstones, and in particular peridot, consistent production from San Carlos will be more important than ever.
But gemstone dealer Bill Larson of Pala International doesn't think San Carlos will have any trouble meeting demand. "I know one dealer in Phoenix that deals in something like a ton a month. Like in all gem deposits there's at least 1 percent that's gem quality, so you're talking a big, big quantity - that's just one guy."
Like most gemstone dealers, Larson rates San Carlos material behind Burmese and Pakistani peridot, in large part because big stones are rarely unearthed on Peridot Mesa. Most gem-quality material falls in the one carat and under range, with pristine specimens over 5 carats extremely uncommon, though a trickle of fine large stones do find their way to market. One such stone, an over 100-carat behemoth dubbed Geronimo's Secret, resides in the vault of a Phoenix broker.
Burma remains the quality standard for peridot, but with output slowing to a trickle in recent years, Pakistan has come to the forefront. "The best Pakistan is the finest that I've seen lately," says Larson, "and the finest Burma has always been the finest. Egyptian, of course, doesn't exist anymore, at least not in quantity or size."
He is not so kind to the Chinese material. "China certainly produces a phenomenal amount, 10 carats and less, but the color seems to be a bit lighter."
San Carlos peridot fits in somewhere in the middle, between the superior size of Pakistan and Burma and the massive production of China.
The trump card San Carlos holds is its location.
It is the birthstone for the month of August. According to folklore, the peridot will bring its wearer success, peace, and good luck. Peridot has been found in Egyptian jewelery from the early second millennium BCE and was mined from the volcanic island of Zebirget, or St. Johns Island, in the Red Sea. Peridot (pronounced "pair-uh-doe", IPA: /pɛɹɪdɑːt/ or Fr. /peʁido/) is the gem quality variety of forsteritic olivine. The chemical composition of peridot is (Mg, Fe)2SiO4, with Mg in greater quantities than Fe. The name of the gemstone is believed to come from either the Arabic word faridat meaning "gem" or the French word peritot meaning "unclear." Peridot is one of the few gemstones that comes in only one color. The depth of green depends on how much iron is contained in the crystal structure, and varies from yellow-green to olive to brownish green. Peridot is also often referred to as "poor man's emerald". Olivine is a very abundant mineral, but gem-quality peridot is rather rare. Peridot crystals have been collected from iron-nickel meteorites.
