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July 30, 1999 |
People were outraged -- or at least some were. The triumphal gathering belied a feud that has erupted over how Mauna Kea is to be managed in the new millennium. The Sierra Club and native Hawaiian groups did not attend the June 25 event. Environmentalists say star-struck scientists are trampling fragile ecosystems. Native Hawaiians say the astronomers
who run the mountaintop are desecrating a profoundly sacred place. For
their part, the astronomers admit some guilt in not listening to concerns, but also
claim they have been blindsided with criticism of projects that were
approved and started a decade ago. Hanging in the balance is control of the planet's most important
astronomical real estate. "Our people have this one mountain just for them and
[the scientists] are taking it over. That's not right. And that mountain is so sacred.
It is one of a kind," says Reynolds Kamakawiwioole, a native Hawaiian
activist and ardent opponent of further astronomical development. "The
saddest thing is, they never had a chance to sit down with the native
Hawaiians." In the Hawaiian language, Mauna Kea means "white mountain" -- a reference to
the shining snowcap the summit wears several months out of the year.
According to the Hawaiian creation chant, the mountain comes from the
union of Papa, the Sky Father, and Wakea, the Earth Mother. Mauna Kea is also
considered the piko (bellybutton) of the world, according to
Polynesian myths recognized around the Pacific. At the summit, winds whip up to 150 mph and the frigid air gets thin enough to necessitate oxygen masks for visitors; it is an inhospitable
slice of heaven. But consistently clear skies, scant light pollution and
the thinness of the air ensure that, with the right conditions,
telescopes and naked eyes alike can glean more from the night sky than from anywhere else in the world. (The only telescope that tops terrestrial scopes -- and then only in certain parts of the electromagnetic spectrum -- is the Hubble Space Telescope, which orbits the planet beyond the distortions of the
atmosphere.) Since 1968, scientists have built 13 separate observatories on the summit
under auspices of a 65-year lease from Hawaii's Department of Land
and Natural Resources. The lease assigned use of all the lands on Mauna Kea above
12,000 feet to the University of Hawaii, and created the 11,228-acre Mauna
Kea Science Reserve. The telescopes have cost nearly $1 billion to build, and tens of millions more are spent each year running them. The four newest
telescopes -- the Gemini, the Japanese Subaru Telescope and the Keck I and II observatories -- belong to a new class that boasts powerful
computerized optical systems and reflective mirrors wider than a two-lane highway. These scopes have the capability to peer back to the very edge of time -- as far back as14 billion light years ago, just after the Big Bang,. Collectively, they represent the majority of the planet's high-end astronomical firepower. "It's the largest collection
anywhere of large telescopes. It's an unbelievable capability and a huge
step up in aperture," says Robert McLaren, interim director of the UH
Institute for Astronomy. His institution has become a world power in
the field, thanks to observation time it receives on these telescopes as part of
the lease agreements. In recent months, Mauna Kea has emitted a steady
stream of groundbreaking astronomical discoveries and eye-popping images, which have brought the stars closer to Earth than ever before. But the transition from pristine volcanic wasteland to stargazing nirvana
has not been without conflict. In the 1970s pig hunters, conservationists
and native Hawaiians questioned the impact of construction and vehicle
traffic. In the 1980s, the Audubon Society raised a ruckus about the
development of support facilities at the 9,600-foot level that overlapped
the habitat of the palila, an endangered Hawaiian bird. In 1995, the Sierra
Club and several native Hawaiian groups complained about trash on the
summit from telescope construction.
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