Propagandist and Divine Smudging
by Darren Moore
Tuesday, July 18, 2017. Fife, Washington. In the midst of mounting tensions, Tuesday evening marked the appearance of Marta, introduced to us by a police officer as the Public Information Officer for Puget Sound Energy (PSE).
When Dakota and I arrived at the contested zone—where just the previous night activists had sat in front of machinery for two hours—we were met by an unusual but not entirely unexpected sight. The public sidewalk across from the construction site had been sealed off. As we approached, a police officer exited his patrol car to inform Dakota and I that the entire street had been declared a construction zone by the Public Works Department of Fife. The implication was clear: cross this line, and you’ll be arrested. That’s when he introduced us to Marta who we were told was there to continue answering our questions.
Presumptive Advantage
The first words out of Marta’s mouth were not so much an introduction but a calculated acknowledgment: “Hey, Dakota!” She was referring to Dakota Case, a Puyallup Tribal member and one of the leading voices of the Water Warriors. The attempt at familiarity left a strange aftertaste. When Dakota remarked on her knowing his name, Marta quickly replied, “I have the advantage.”
Her demeanor faltered slightly when Dakota replied, clarifying the land’s ownership: “It’s our land.” Marta rebutted with a dismissive, “It’s historically been your land,” seemingly unaware or dismissive of the fact that the City of Fife lies entirely within the boundaries of the reservation. Dakota simply reasserted, “Yeah, it’s our land.”
Our conversation with Marta felt more like a verbal dance than an honest exchange. Questions she posed—such as asking if we used gas at home—came across as subtly belittling. The irony was palpable; neither of us were consumers of the very product her company represents.
When the conversation inevitably veered towards the science behind natural gas, Marta deflected, opting to offer vague affirmations about Steve Storms—a retired Chemical Engineer deeply involved in educating the community about the facility’s potential hazards.
Prayer, Song, and the Creator
As if responding to the absurdity of our exchange with Marta, the evening air in Fife filled with the spiritual resonance of prayer, song, and drumbeats. Local residents, almost as if drawn by the energy, approached us, sharing their anxieties about the pipeline project. From the concerns about contaminated water tables to the visible cracks in home foundations, the community’s unrest was palpable.
And then, the police formed a defensive line—this time to shield the Brotherton Pipeline Command Center from the Warriors’ prayers. It was surreal, this militaristic posture against a group whose only ‘weapons’ were drums and sage.
Indeed, in an act almost too poetic to be scripted, our own Benita Moore then approached these officers with a sage stick, offering to smudge them off, an offering of prayer, and a gesture of peace. After a series of polite refusals from each of the officers, Benita started to walk away. However, as Benita noted later, the Ancestors clearly had a different idea and were not willing to accept those refusals. With a sudden gust of wind the end of the sage stick that Benita had in her hand burst into flames, before filling the air – and covering the officers – with a thick white blanket of its sacred smoke. There, all smudged up now.a
As the evening began to wind down, Marta found herself enveloped in questions. She attempted to maintain her earlier narrative, and remarked that she didn’t think the area was on the reservation, again betraying an ignorance—or perhaps a willful denial—of geographical and legal facts.
When others in the crowd attempted to return to the topic of natural gas and its scientific aspects. It was here that she again mentioned Steve Storms. This time, however, she was caught off guard: Steve Storms was standing right in front of her. Her recognition—or lack thereof—became an ironic touchstone for the evening, and those who caught this awkward moment couldn’t help but exchange knowing smiles.
It’s a peculiar theater, this ongoing struggle. One where public servants become gatekeepers, where corporations send emissaries to challenge grassroots activists, and where the prayers of a community rise against a backdrop of police lines and contested lands.
Additional Information: Link to Ancestral Waters Documentary
First appearing on July 19, 2017, this article is part of an ongoing series documenting the Indigenous-led campaign against the Tacoma LNG facility.
The article has since been edited to remove time-sensitive elements, such as calls to action, in order to serve as an historical and educational resource. You can also explore other related articles and resources on the Ancestral Waters page for a more contextual understanding of the issues and events.
While the full “Ancestral Waters” documentary is available for screenings, we invite you to watch the trailer for a glimpse into the comprehensive story of resiliency and activism told in the film.
