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Word of that land grab and others spread from village to village. Banding together as the Alaskan Federation of Natives, which represents 18 organizations, the natives elected delegates who took their case to Washington. In 1966, then Interior Secretary Stewart Udall declared a total "land freeze," which expires this December. The natives are asking Congress for 40 million acres, $500 million in compensation for the rest of Alaska and royalty payments for mineral exploitation. Last week the Senate voted overwhelmingly to offer $1 billion (over a twelve-year period) but only 10 million acres. The next step is up to the House, which seems ready to give the natives the land they want but not as much money.
Meantime, both federal and state governments are jockeying for special areas of the state. Washington, which might be wisely managing the land, so far has acted merely as caretaker. State policy is crasser. Depsnding on the Federal Government to preserve parks, wilderness and forests, Alaska is trying to select the prime mineral-rich areas as state land. "The land is the value." says Tom Kelly, Alaska's commissioner of natural resources. Reason: the state gets 100% of revenues and royalties from mineral leases on its own land, but lesser yields from such leases on federal land. Victor Fischer, director of the University of Alaska's Institute of Social, Economic and Government Research, has a word for current land-use planning: "Horrendous."
The natives can, of course, tie up the land in court battles if they are not treated fairly. Already there is some talk in Juneau of a coalition between environmentalists and the natives. "I see no reason why the natives could not make a common cause with the conservationists, fishermen and teachers." says Willie Hensley, a young Eskimo legislator.
"The only decision we cannot make," says Alaskan Ecologist Robert B. Weeden, "is to stay aloof from change." Wherever man has settled in the great land, he has left an ugly mark. Anchorage, rimmed on three sides by mountains, has air-pollution problems like those of Los Angeles. In Fairbanks, ice fogs mix with smoke and auto exhaust to produce a particularly noxious result, and the Chena River, which splits the city, is a sewer. In the desolate village of Eek (pop. 182), sewage disposal is impossible because the water table is practically level with the ground. The only flush toilet in town is disconnected. Human
