I think I finally get it. County supervisors are closet neocons.
As each new development in the Buena Vista casino saga turns ever more unexpectedly than the last, an uncanny parallel to a similarly futile war takes frightening shape. The board of supervisors is patterning its plan of attack on the strategy used by the hapless Bush administration in its equally inept attempt at bombing Iraq into a submissive democracy.
It wasn't until Wednesday, however, that this frightening symmetry became clear. Four members of the board of supervisors had again deadlocked on a matter relating to a divisive Indian gaming project casting its ominous shadow over an anxious Jackson Valley. The question this time was whether to participate in an unavoidable arbitration process that will result in the selection of a casino project moving forward this spring.
The deadlock means an independently chosen arbitrator will only have a five-member tribe's project plan to choose from, which is fortuitously similar to the one supervisors left on the table last week.
It didn't have to go that way. Seven months of closed-door negotiations, hundreds of hours of staff time and nearly $1 million in taxpayer dollars were in danger of dribbling down the drain.
As it is, the county is losing $1.4 million in reimbursed legal fees, which was the one change from the previous agreement. By not participating in arbitration, the county is also squandering a recent surge of activity at the District Attorney's Office, where staff spent last week combing through thousands of case files to strengthen the link between area crime and the existing casino in Jackson.
Ignoring the reality on the ground and the advice of their top advisors, two supervisors bet it all on a principled stand that could end up costing Amador significantly in the end. Thankfully, the board's miscues have been less calamitous than the Bush administration's. The tribe could have tried to cram a larger project down our throats for potentially millions less.
If that happened, the board's deadlock would have gone down as the worst decision since Native Americans sold Manhattan for a handful of trinkets and some typhoid-ridden blankets. Instead, the tribe took greater pity on us than early American settlers did on their forebears. Whether it was out of altruism or self interest is irrelevant. We got lucky.
Casino opponents are right when they say a hard look needs to be directed at the Bureau of Indian Affairs, the Department of the Interior and the governor's office's handling of recent state compacts. An investigative report may reveal that these government agencies were the dark forces responsible for pitting us against a native population still struggling to recover from near-extinction hundreds of years ago. But until that story is told, we should do our best to navigate the nonsensical process that is.
To the county's credit, it was more proactive about seeking the input of department heads in crafting a tenable agreement. But all that critical work was in danger of being wasted with the successive deadlocks of the past three weeks.
Still, the cracks are starting to show. The displeasure of county staff and department heads is growing more vocal. Where once there was a united front, county loyalists are now splintering from an administration they feel threw them to the wolves and then locked the barn door.
And like the president, what at first glance seemed a stand of principle suggests other motivations when looked at more closely. At the March 11 board of supervisors meeting, Chairman Richard Forster telegraphed that he, at least, never intended on accepting any agreement with the tribe. So why promise to do exactly that one week earlier when he publicly issued a counter proposal that would keep the ISA intact, but discard a provision requiring the county to give up a legal challenge that could prevent the casino?
I personally believe it was to corner the tribe into calling for arbitration then, removing a controversial decision from the supervisors' hands. That way, the board could maintain their popular opposition to Indian gaming while avoiding any of the potential blowback from rejecting a deal that came as close as they could to mitigating the negative impacts. I hope I'm wrong, because it would represent an incredibly irresponsible act of governance otherwise.
Giving up choices to avoid an unpopular decision? I'll say this much for our president: Even he didn't take that road.
| Raheem Hosseini |