Just after the local water board announced this month that its farmers would get only one-tenth of their normal water allotment this year, Ronnie Walterscheid, 53, stood up and called on his elected representatives to declare a water war on their upstream neighbors.
“It’s always been about us giving up,” Mr. Walterscheid said, to nods. “I say we push back hard right now.”
The drought-fueled anger of southeastern New Mexico’s farmers and
ranchers is boiling, and there is nowhere near enough water in the
desiccated Pecos River to cool it down. Roswell, about 75 miles to the
north, has somewhat more water available and so is the focus of intense
resentment here. Mr. Walterscheid and others believe that Roswell’s
artesian wells reduce Carlsbad’s surface water.
For decades, the regional status quo meant the northerners pumped
groundwater and the southerners piped surface water. Now, amid the worst
drought on record, some in Carlsbad say they must upend the status quo
to survive. They want to make what is known as a priority call on the
Pecos River.
A priority call, an exceedingly rare maneuver, is the nuclear option in
the world of water. Such a call would try to force the state to return
to what had been the basic principle of water distribution in the West:
the lands whose owners first used the water — in most cases farmland —
get first call on it in times of scarcity. Big industries can be losers;
small farmers winners.
The threat of such a move reflects the political impact of the droughts
that are becoming the new normal in the West. “A call on the river is a
call for a shakeout,” explained Daniel McCool, a University of Utah
political scientist and author of “River Republic: The Fall and Rise of
America’s Rivers.”
“It’s not going to be farmers versus environmentalists or liberals
versus conservatives,” he said. “It’s going to be the people who have
water versus the people who don’t.” And, he said, the have-nots will
outnumber the haves.
Dudley Jones, the manager for the Carlsbad Irrigation District
said that water law and allocation practice have long diverged. “We
have it in the state Constitution: First in time, first in right. But
that’s not how it’s practiced.” In New Mexico’s political pecking order,
his alfalfa farmers, despite senior priority rights dating back 100
years, have little clout. The state water authorities, he said, “are not
going to cut out the city.”
“They’re not going to cut out the dairy industry,” he added. “They’re
not going to cut off the oil and gas industry, because that’s economic
development. So we’re left with a dilemma — the New Mexico water
dilemma.”
A priority call, said Dr. McCool, “will glaringly demonstrate how
unfair, how anachronistic the whole water law edifice is.”
He added, “The all-or-nothing dynamic of prior appropriation instantly
sets up conflict. I get all of mine, and you get nothing.”
Despite the support Mr. Walterscheid got from two of the Carlsbad
Irrigation District’s five members, however, the March 12 meeting
produced not a priority call, but an ultimatum: The Legislature should
give Carlsbad $2.5 million to tide it over, or the water district will
make the call and start a traumatic legal and scientific battle.
The prior appropriation system on the Pecos has its beginnings in the
late 19th century. Its waters flow about 925 miles from the Sangre de
Cristo Mountains in northern New Mexico, ending up in the Rio Grande in
Texas. It has been a focus of conflict.
1 comment:
It is always those who have no water-rights that make small of those who have them. If water rights are have no strength then perhaps property rights fall into the same category. Take our water rights and we take your home. How does that sound? Let's start with the academics who propose that water-rights are just a paper tiger.
Post a Comment