Local Opinion: New military plans follow distressing pattern in Southwest

There are new Air Force proposals for our region that would subject rural communities, protected natural areas, and Tribal Lands to maneuvers approaching the technical intensity of warfare.

The new plans risk damages that outweigh any gains. This belief stems from values instilled in me by my hero, a lifelong military man dedicated to the USA — my father. He served 20 years in the Army, six years enlisted and 14 commissioned. His awards included the Bronze Star, two Meritorious Service Medals, and two Commendation Awards. After active duty, he served as a Department of Defense civilian for another 20-plus years, over 10 years as a leading engineer for the Air Force.

I was 7 when we posted to Fort Huachuca, and I’ll never forget my first glimpse of saguaros lifting their arms to the clouds. My young mind took shape under big skies, in desert solitude teeming with life, guided by my father’s sense of integrity. Now in middle age, I returned to the Southwest with my husband to do work supporting stewardship, art, and science. When we saw the proposals to further intensify Air Force maneuvers in this place I deeply love, we were alarmed. As I learned more, my alarm became anger.

The new plans would have dangerous flares deployed much more closely over the Apache-Sitgreaves, Coronado, and Gila National Forests, near rural communities where fire is an acute threat. Aluminum-coated glass fibers and violent sonic booms would also be deployed much closer than before, and low-altitude flybys would increase.

I was appalled to learn that air training in our region of this intensity occurs mostly over protected areas and Tribal Lands. Adding to our country’s grievous colonization history and broken treaty promises, for more than 70 years, local Tribal Lands have disproportionately been harmed by arms-industry operations such as fighter jet maneuvers, bomb practice, and uranium mining.

The rich habitat of the Sky Islands is unmatched in the United States. Four thousand years ago, this place was home to people who built the first farming culture within our country’s borders — the ancestors of some of our neighbors today. As a kid, I was ignorant about the deep-rooted problems and unparalleled significance of this place that shaped me. I know better, now, and so should our military. I feel I have a duty to say so.

Fighter jet training requires planes weighing over 10 tons to crack the speed of sound, drop 2000-degree flares or hundreds of pounds of “chaff,” and maneuver as close as 100 feet from the ground. By definition, these actions approach the technical intensity of warfare. For the land and people below, they carry grave risks of fire-ignition, unpredictable damage, and chronic distress. Last summer, I witnessed a shockingly low flyby of iconic hoodoos near Portal Peak. My sorrow was as rattling as the shock.

Common sense dictates that actions this dangerous should be consolidated over less critical places, not above the Unites States’ only jaguar routes, or one of Earth’s preeminent gathering places for nesting raptors and other birds.

I’m grateful to military members of our complex national family who, like my father, engage in thoughtful and vital defense of the liberties we can’t afford to take for granted. Exactly for the sake of the values these service members aim to protect, I believe it is time our military and industrial forces examine where their damaging impacts can be efficiently overlapped and jointly mitigated, instead of increasing any habitual harms.

It’s clear: fair-minded steps for the health of families and vanishing countryside are more valuable than habits of unchecked influence. My father isn’t alive to consider the new Air Force proposals, but knowing the values he instilled in me, I’m pretty sure he’d agree that there’s a better way to do this.