In the early hours of August 25, Verlon Jose, the 59-year-old chairman of the Tohono O’odham Nation in southern Arizona, opened an email from Henry N. Laxdal, acting chief of the U.S. Border Patrol’s Tucson sector. The message warned that government contractors would arrive within a minute to begin soil testing for a 62-mile wall that would run along the tribe’s southern border. The email offered the tribe the chance to place cultural monitors on the site, but made clear that any interference with the operation would be prohibited.
Jose had already been alerted to a convoy moving through the reservation that same morning. A tribal member had reported a southbound caravan, and social-media posts on Facebook confirmed the presence of drilling rigs, construction trucks and several Border Patrol vehicles. By August 27, dozens of contractor rigs and a tactical Border Patrol team were parked directly opposite the Tadai Me:i prayer camp, a site used for daily ceremonies.
Legal push-back and federal assurances
For months the Nation had tried to block the wall through the federal courts, arguing that the project would sever centuries-old familial routes, damage sacred landscapes and amount to an “historic attack on tribal sovereignty.” A Washington, D.C. judge denied the tribe’s request for a preliminary injunction, citing assurances from the Department of Homeland Security that it was engaging with the O’odham in good faith. In the same August 25 email, Laxdal stressed the agency’s “commitment to ongoing coordination” and invited cultural observers, a promise that quickly proved hollow.
When Jose attempted to send his chief of police to the worksite, the officer was stopped at a roadblock manned by federal agents in masks and tactical gear—people who had previously participated in city-wide sweeps in Minneapolis and Chicago. The same day, the Department of Homeland Security disclosed that it had deployed a surveillance blimp over the reservation and enlisted Mexican security forces to protect the crews.
Surveillance, intimidation and tribal response
ProPublica’s investigation revealed a relentless monitoring campaign targeting the ongoing border-prayer ceremony. Tribal members were questioned outside the reservation about their rituals, and drones hovered nonstop over the prayer camp. Deshane Gregg, whose vehicle was forced off the road by the contractor convoy, described the scene as a government siege. “We’re just here doing prayer. We’re not trying to bother them, but it gets to you when it’s constantly like that,” she said, adding, “The drones flying over us all day, it’s a lot.”
Rodney Scott, the Commissioner of U.S. Customs and Border Protection, has repeatedly labeled the Nation’s southern border “one of the most dangerous smuggling and trafficking corridors” in the Southwest. He justified the wall by noting that Congress funded the work, a Federal court affirmed it, and CBP is executing the project under existing legal authorities. “We are securing the border and giving our agents the tools they need to protect the American people,” Scott told reporters in August.
Political fallout and tribal sovereignty claims
The controversy has fallen along familiar partisan lines in Arizona. Republican legislative leaders have filed briefs supporting the wall, while Democratic Governor Katie Hobbs has sided with the tribe. Progressive Representative Adelita Grijalva, whose district includes the reservation, said she is drafting legislation to limit DHS’s ability to waive environmental and cultural statutes—a power the Trump administration exercised 60 times across its two terms.
In June, a $1.3 billion contract for the “Tucson 5” segment of the wall was awarded to Sullivan Land Services Co. The tribe filed a lawsuit on June 16 in the U.S. District Court for the District of Columbia, arguing that any reduction of reservation size requires congressional action and that the wall would constitute permanent trespass on sovereign land.
During a July 22 hearing, DHS announced it would waive more than 30 statutes, including those mandating tribal consultation, to speed construction. The agency maintained that the wall would be limited to the 60-foot-wide Roosevelt Reservation, a zone that runs across California, Arizona and New Mexico. Tribe-lead attorney Riyaz Kanji countered that the reservation does not extend onto tribal land and that the rugged terrain would push any construction far outside the narrow strip.
Despite the government’s claims of cooperation, incidents continued. Two days after a meeting with DHS Secretary Markwayne Mullin, a contractor bulldozed a 70-foot swath through the Las Playas Intaglio, a 6,500-year-old earthen fish carving that had been marked as a cultural site. Tribal elder Wynona P. Larson Yazzie, who had visited the intaglio the day before, condemned the destruction as evidence that “the Department of Homeland Security is exploiting the judicial reflection period to move forward with disputed actions.”
James Percival, DHS general counsel, celebrated the denial of an emergency injunction on X with a meme quoting the Borg: “RESISTANCE IS FUTILE.” He added, “We respect tribal sovereignty but not to the detriment of border security. This wall is getting built. Our authority is beyond dispute.”
While Border Patrol officials cite a 90 % drop in illegal-entry reports on the Nation and a 94 % reduction in apprehensions since the Biden administration, the tribe’s interim chief of police, James Cook, testified that smuggling and related crimes have “almost disappeared.” The department’s own senior official, Benjamin S. Hollinder, argued that the lack of a barrier makes the area a “vulnerable and desirable” corridor for transnational criminal organizations, a claim the tribe disputes given the current low numbers.
As the wall’s construction proceeds, the Tohono O’odham Nation continues to post “no trespassing” signs along its main access roads and to hold prayer ceremonies under the watchful eyes of surveillance balloons and drones. The clash highlights a broader struggle between federal border-security ambitions and the enduring rights of Native nations to protect their lands and cultures.
