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Grasslands Wilderness: Its Time Has Come
by REP Policy Director Jim DiPeso
delivered at the Grasslands Wilderness Symposium, Rapid City, South Dakota; November 13, 2003
Good
afternoon. I am Jim DiPeso from Republicans for Environmental
Protection. Two pieces of housekeeping I'd like to take care of before
I get into the meat of my talk.
Number
one. Yes, we know, Republicans for Environmental Protection sounds like
the world's funniest oxymoron, sort of like "working vacation" or, my
personal favorite, "the Federal Paperwork Reduction Act." But, all
kidding aside, we're a real organization -- ordinary people who
identify with the Republican Party and are working to get our party's
leadership back onto a constructive track when it comes to protecting
America's natural heritage.
Number
two. I am acutely aware that I stand between you and the next item on
our agenda, which is the cash bar. I've been given 30 minutes and by
God, if I know what's good for me, I'll keep it to 30 minutes.
A
few weeks ago, as I was flying home from West Virginia, I looked down
at a most amazing sight. Several miles below were the corn, sorghum and
pasture lands of the Great Plains, all marked out in quarter-mile
sections, as if giants had passed the time at an old-time quilting bee.
Then,
I imagined another amazing sight -- grasslands as they were, say, 200
years ago, when Lewis & Clark were moving their way up the Missouri
River here in South Dakota.
For
someone like me who was born, raised, and lives in a landscape
dominated by mountains, the eye is overpowered by the vast scale of a
prairie landscape stretching to the sky at all points of the compass. I
am reminded of Theodore Roosevelt's reflections on what he called "the
wide waste places of the Earth, unworn of man, and changed only by the
slow change of the ages through time everlasting."
Slow
change -- sounds like something a conservative would approve of. Left
to her own devices, Mother Nature does things conservatively - keeping
things in balance, requiring her charges to earn their own keep,
looking out for the long term, and above all, not wasting anything.
That's
why wilderness conservation and conservatism go well together. Now, I
know that these days, such a notion strikes people as odd. Some of my
fellow Republicans in Congress and the administration seem indifferent
and, in many cases, even hostile to the idea of protecting a few places
where plants, animals, soils, water, and the other countless, sublime
denizens of the wild can be left in peace to work out their own
destinies.
Which
is really a shame. Because if you do a little genealogical research on
the wilderness conservation movement's family tree, you'll find a fair
number of Republicans there -- some people you've heard of, maybe some
you haven't heard of.
We
fear that many of our party leaders have taken a wrong turn. We want
them to grasp a simple idea - that conservation is conservative. REP,
the national grassroots organization of Republicans for Environmental
Protection, feels so strongly about that idea that we have even taken
out service mark protection for "Conservation is conservative." But
feel free to use the phrase in your conversations.
Let's
take a brief ride through American history, climb that family tree and
see some of those conservative Republicans who worked to protect our
great American landscapes.
Let's
review some of the traditional conservative values that support the
need for land protection. And then let's return to the present and look
out at the future, where we'll see that some of those traditional
conservative ideas make powerful arguments for expanding the wilderness
conservation ideal -- to the native grasslands of South Dakota and
other ecosystems worthy of protection.
First,
let's talk about a few of those traditional conservative values. One is
the idea of intergenerational equity. In the 18th century, a
conservative British statesman and philosopher named Edmund Burke
talked about society as an intergenerational contract - we of the
present generation have an ethical obligation to secure the
achievements of past generations and deliver them, intact, to unborn
generations.
It is not within the present generation's rights to, as he put it, "commit waste upon the inheritance."
There
is the cardinal conservative virtue of prudence, of looking before you
leap and avoiding irreversible errors rooted in the rash conceit that
we always know what we're doing. As conservative author Richard Weaver
wrote decades ago, "we live in a universe which was given to us, in the
sense that we did not create it; and we don't understand very much of
it.Therefore, make haste slowly."
I
will leave you with one more traditional conservative value and that is
reverence - reverence for the awesome beauty and power of untamed
creation, which provides us with the air, water, topsoil, green plants,
and hospitable climate that supports our existence.
I
am reminded of Herbert Hoover's quotation about the joys of fishing: He
said, "It's a chance to wash one's soul with pure air, with the rush of
the brook, or with the shimmer of the sun on the blue water. It brings
meekness and inspiration from the decency of nature, charity toward
tackle makers, patience toward fish, a mockery of profits and egos, a
quieting of hate, a rejoicing that you do not have to decide a darned
thing until next week. And it is discipline in the equality of men, for
all men are equal before fish."
Yes,
I know, Herbert Hoover will be forever tarred in our collective memory
for his ineffectual response to the Great Depression. But let's give
the Great Engineer his due for his unremembered conservation
achievements. Herbert Hoover expanded our national park system by 40
percent. His legacy includes expanded protection for the Grand Canyon,
and national monuments such as White Sands in New Mexico, Death Valley
in California, Arches in Utah, Saguaro in Arizona, and the Black Canyon
of the Gunnison River in Colorado.
Herbert
Hoover was a conservative, one of those forgotten names in our
wilderness family tree who believed that outdoor recreation was a
counterbalance to the decadence he feared would arise in lives overly
focused on materialism.
If
we continue to roam about the wilderness conservation family tree we
will see two famous names whose faces are forever etched in stone on
Mount Rushmore -- Abraham Lincoln, the first and greatest Republican,
and Theodore Roosevelt, the most learned naturalist ever to sit in the
Oval Office.
Writers
from Frederick Jackson Turner to Wallace Stegner have commented
eloquently on the formative influence of the frontier in shaping the
unique blend of enterprise, community, freedom, equality, and
practicality that is our American national character. Mr. Lincoln was
perhaps the finest example of the American character. Half a century
ago, biographer Benjamin Thomas wrote of Lincoln: "The traits of birds
and farmyard animals, the majesty of forests, plains and rivers, the
beauty, the mystery, the bounty, and the dreadfulness of nature
quickened his imagination, bestirred his reflections, and increasingly
adorned his speech."
His
presidency, of course, was occupied by the conflicts of man against man
rather than man against nature. But in 1864, at the Civil War's
bloodiest height, he found time to sign a bill deeding Yosemite Valley
to the state of California for use as a public park.
The
Yosemite precedent opened the door and Republican presidents,
congressmen, and state leaders walked through it -- establishing
Yellowstone National Park in 1872, passing the Forest Reserve Act in
1891, declaring the Adirondacks "forever wild" in 1894.
All
of which set the stage for the spectacular conservation achievements of
Theodore Roosevelt. So many of the landscapes that we cherish today
were protected on his watch or as result of his inspiration.
About
100 miles southeast of here in Bennett County is the Lacreek National
Wildlife Refuge, a great place to see High Plains trumpeter swans,
pelicans, and other waterfowl.
National
wildlife refuges were Theodore Roosevelt's idea. A hundred years ago he
established the first one in Florida to protect the waterfowl there.
Now, we have more than 500 covering 95 million acres in all 50 states.
Thanks
to the authority granted by the Antiquities Act, which was passed by a
Republican Congress,TR established 18 national monuments, including
Jewel Cave just south of here. Five national parks were created during
his presidency. And, 130 million acres of national forests.
Theodore
Roosevelt was a hunter, birder, and naturalist, but his reasons for
conservation were much broader than his personal interests in the
outdoors. Roosevelt's greatest insight was that conservation was
essential to keeping America strong and secure, for generations to come.
Roosevelt
believed in keeping up his generation's end of that intergenerational
contract. As he said, "We are not building this country of ours for a
day. It is to last through the ages."
He talked about conservation as a strategy to help us live within our means.
It
is true that Roosevelt's conservationism had a utilitarian bent. One of
the reasons he established national forests was to ensure their
scientific management as assured sources of timber for a growing nation.
But
Roosevelt also had a preservationist streak in him. During his 1903
Western tour, he chastised the good people of Santa Cruz, California,
for pasting advertising posters on a stately redwood tree. He said some
places should just be left alone. At the rim of the Grand Canyon, on
that same Western tour, he told his countrymen: "Leave it as it is. You
cannot improve upon it. The ages have been at work on it, and man can
only mar it."
In
1908, at his White House Conference on Conservation, he said, "natural
resources are the final basis of national power and perpetuity." In
1910, he said, "Conservation is a great moral issue, for it involves
the patriotic duty of ensuring the safety and continuance of the
nation."
Keep
America strong. National power. Living within our means. Patriotism.
Those, my friends, are the words of a true conservative defending his
homeland.
TR's
record and his charisma tend to overshadow other Republicans who were
conservation leaders, but let's not forget them. Congressman John
Weeks, whose name is on the 1911 law that authorized national forests
east of the Mississippi River.
Calvin Coolidge, Silent Cal, who established large national monuments in Alaska, California, and Idaho.
Dwight
Eisenhower, who set aside a huge wildlife sanctuary on the north coast
of Alaska that today we call the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge.
Barry
Goldwater, champion of the Grand Canyon. Late in life, he did something
that some may consider to be unusual behavior for a politician. He
admitted he was wrong. He told a TV interviewer that he shouldn't have
voted to build the Glen Canyon Dam.
Dare
I mention his name, Richard Nixon, who got Congress to pass the
National Environmental Policy Act, Clean Air Act, and many other
beneficial laws that have made our nation stronger and healthier. In
1970, he went before Congress, handed them a 37-point environmental
platform, and said it's now or never to protect our environment.
And
one of my personal favorites, Congressman John Saylor from
Pennsylvania. As conservative a Republican as you could find in
Congress during the mid-20th century, John Saylor was one of the most
relentless, dogged advocates for wilderness conservation our nation has
ever seen.
One
day, Saylor was hiking through what is now Petrified Forest National
Park in eastern Arizona. He spotted a tourist picking up a piece of
petrified wood and pocketing it as a souvenir. Saylor was a big man. He
had a loud voice. And he liked to use it too. He strode purposefully
over to the man and bellowed at him: "Put that back, it's mine!" "What
do you mean it's yours?" the man replied defiantly. Congressman Saylor
said that if every person takes away a piece from our common
inheritance, soon there will be nothing left to pass on to future
generations. We hope that that piece of petrified wood is still in its
rightful place in the Arizona desert.
We
have John Saylor to thank for sponsoring the Wilderness Act of 1964 and
the Wild and Scenic Rivers Act of 1968. I might add that one of the
early co-sponsors of the Wilderness Act was Senator Karl Mundt,
Republican of South Dakota.
Saylor
fought the proposed Echo Park Dam in Dinosaur National Monument. He
fought his own state's congressional delegation, unsuccessfully, over a
dam on the Allegheny River.
Like
Theodore Roosevelt, John Saylor had a well-thought out, conservative
philosophy of wilderness conservation. On the floor of Congress, in
1956, he laid it out:
Number
one, wilderness is a form of national defense, a toughening experience
that will prevent our people from, in his words, "deteriorating in
luxury and ripening for the hardy conquerors of another century."
Number
two, wilderness is a place to seek refuge and restoration from what he
called the "stress and strain of our crowded, fast-moving,
highly-mechanized and raucously noisy civilization."
Number
three, and perhaps most important, wilderness is a place where we can
get a much-needed dose of humility, that, in his words, "we are part of
the life of this planet and would do well to keep our perspectives and
keep in touch with some of the basic facts of life."
The
year 1956 was a long time ago. Today, such words challenge current
dogmas that call for pushing man's works into the farthest reaches of
remote nature for quick gain.
Wilderness
has become just another issue, one more piņata for the ideologues and
the mendacious to bat around in that baffling city by the Potomac.
Debate about the environment has been cheapened and distorted with
vacuous sound bites: "jobs vs. owls. Fish vs. farmers."
Some
Democratic partisans want the issue all to themselves. Some Republican
partisans play into their hands by dismissing legitimate environmental
concerns.
For
both parties, such game playing is entirely wrong-headed. Too much is
at stake, much more so than in Theodore Roosevelt's or John Saylor's
eras.
Untrammeled
nature is being squeezed everywhere. Our world has become more crowded,
our technology more powerful, and our consumption more demanding. When
the Wilderness Act passed in 1964, we Americans numbered 190 million.
Now we number 290 million. By 2050, we may be at 390 million.
Losing the wild would cost us the fount of our vitality. In protecting the wild, we are protecting ourselves.
We
must protect the wilderness areas we have, and add new wilderness
areas. We especially need new wilderness areas in ecosystems that
perhaps lack the glamour of mountains and forests but are no less
precious and no less beautiful.
Let
me start with the native prairies of the Great Plains. REP is pleased
to say that we endorse the Cheyenne River Valley proposal to add nearly
75,000 acres of South Dakota grasslands to the National Wilderness
Preservation System.
Grasslands
have extraordinary ecological and cultural value. For giving today's
and tomorrow's Americans a tangible connection to our nation's history,
it is vital to protect examples of prairie that drew our pioneer
forebears seeking hope.
Let
me suggest another ecosystem that is not represented at all within the
National Wilderness Preservation System - the seabeds, coral gardens,
and kelp forests of our nation's marine waters.
I
know South Dakota is a long way from the oceans that touch our nation.
But even here in the heartland, America's wild marine waters enrich,
inspire and support life. The American sodbusters in Conestoga wagons
crossing the prairie ocean and the American mariners in barkentines
crossing the deep ocean were equally shaped by the wild.
The time has come to extend the concept of wilderness protection to our territorial waters.
There
are other ecosystems that are due larger representation as protected
wilderness - red rock deserts in Utah, bayou forests in Mississippi,
beech forests in Pennsylvania, and of course, the incomparable coastal
plain of the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge in Alaska.
We must protect these special places for sound, conservative reasons.
Earlier,
I spoke of three conservative values that support wilderness
conservation - the contract we have with unborn generations, those
Americans whom Theodore Roosevelt referred to as lying within the womb
of time. Reverence for creation. And prudence, the art of thoughtful
care and of first, doing no harm.
Let
me explore prudence a bit as I begin to wind this up. Wilderness is
much more than postcard-pretty scenery. Wilderness provides essential
goods and services. Just because wilderness lands are not producing
commodities does not mean they are, quote "locked up."
Wilderness
produces clean water, clean air, fish, and wildlife. Wilderness is a
barrier against the spread of invasive species. And wilderness stores
carbon in wood, leaves, and soil. For example, an article in the
science journal Nature estimates that every acre of temperate forests
provides $35 worth of carbon storage services every year.
But
let's move beyond dollars and cents, lest we narrow our judgment.
Wilderness is a laboratory of both the physical and social sciences,
which can teach us much about how nature works and about our
relationship with the land, if we care to listen.
Wilderness
is a refuge where families can strengthen ties attenuated by
over-scheduled busy-ness. We need a few places where we can experience
transcendence. Wilderness is a place of solitude and freedom from the
noise and shackles of industrial civilization. Wilderness invites us to
take a personal journey like Huck Finn's and "light out for the
territory."
Wilderness
is a trust that embodies our ethical obligation to keep options open
for unborn generations in the unknowable future. As former National
Park Service Director Roger Kennedy said, we need to cultivate an ethic
under which humans practice the selfless virtues of prudence,
moderation, and self-discipline.
So,
let's add the great South Dakota grasslands to our National Wilderness
Preservation System, which is a lasting treasure for everyone,
everywhere, for all time.