Message from Pequotland

I find this letter to the editor of Capitol Weekly to be especially poignant. The writer is from Connecticut, home of the so-called Pequots and the largest casino in the world - Foxwoods. Connecticut is where it all started - where the huge loophole in the law was created for all these 'tribes' to get their own casino - following the blueprint created in Connecticut by the Pequots. An excellent book - Without Reservation by Jeff Benedict - details the convolutions within our government that created the debacle of Indian casinos.

Letter to the editor
By Capitol Readers (published Thursday, January 10, 2008)

Dear Editor,
With all this money being spent by tribes lobbying for a vote outcome, it’s time to revisit this concept of creating these “tribal nations” based on the theory that they are perpetually poor and “in need.” Firstly, we’ve all known many neighbors who were 100 percent U.S. citizens before a tribe was created for them to join, thereby allowing them to claim they were due to be exempt from the laws (they previously followed) because they had been discriminated against.

Give me a break! Many groups try for decades to find one shred of evidence that they are not part of the mainstream. When the BIA (who always wants to increase its authority) ignores reality and grants federal recognition, we hear how we “owe” these folks money, land, tax exemption, you name it, because of … discrimination. Yet the mainstream have always seen them as part of the country and it is the “tribal members” themselves who work so hard to discriminate themselves from the rest — in order to get their hands on our tax dollars.

When people have to prove a racial distinction in order to own and operate certain businesses (tax-exempt casinos), we had better review our founding documents. We had better realize that a government cannot have a treaty with its own citizens.

Betty Perkowski,
North Stonington, Conn

Loopholes R Us

It becomes increasingly clear that legislation affecting tribal gaming and casinos is some of the worst ever written. The story below is from the Boston Globe, and details how the tribal gaming lobby keeps these gaping holes wide open. (Click here to see Globe Graphic Distribution of Mohegan Sun Profits)

Casino jackpot went to investors
By Sean P. Murphy
Globe Staff / December 16, 2007

A coterie of casino executives who helped the Mohegan of Connecticut build one of the most successful tribal casinos in the world has been paid $369 million in resort and casino proceeds during the last six years - slightly more than has been received by the entire 1,700-member tribe.

It is the kind of bonanza that was supposed to be prohibited by the federal Indian Gaming Act when it was passed 20 years ago, say some US senators and federal regulators.

But the Mohegan Sun investors - led by Sol Kerzner and Len Wolman - found legal ways around provisions intended to make sure most casino benefits went primarily to tribes. And those loopholes remain open after a massive lobbying blitz by the $25 billion Indian gaming industry.

Since 2001, the industry and its lobbyists have repeatedly defeated efforts to tighten rules and increase transparency. In the industry's latest victory, it crushed an Indian Gaming Act amendment championed in 2006 by Senator John McCain, a Republican of Arizona. McCain's bill would have prevented huge payouts like those received by Kerzner and Wolman. McCain has said the defeat of his bill was a triumph for special interests.

"Their lobbyists are very powerful, and they're pretty hard to fight," McCain said in an interview last month. "I was very disappointed."

That lobbying success now is reverberating in Massachusetts, where Kerzner and Wolman have most recently set their sights on a tract of land in Middleborough. Just six months after McCain's bill was defeated, Kerzner and Wolman signed a deal with the Mashpee Wampanoag tribe to build a $1 billion casino on the rural site.

That contract is subject to the same rules that allowed Kerzner and Wolman to make more money than the Mohegan tribe in recent years. Even Governor Deval Patrick has been unable to find out - despite requests for information - how much Kerzner, Wolman, and other investors in the Middleborough casino negotiations would get in the deal.

"We believe strongly that the financial deal between the tribe and their backers should be made public," said Joseph Landolfi, a spokesman for Patrick, who is interested in courting the developers and tribe if he wins legislative approval of his plan for three state-licensed casinos.

Kerzner and Wolman declined to be interviewed. A lawyer for their partnership - known as Trading Cove - in response to written questions from the Globe, said that the developers took "significant risks" in its investments in the Mohegan casino that justified the returns Trading Cove received. The Mohegan tribe owns all the equity in the casino, said Philip C. Korologos, the lawyer, so the financial benefit to the tribe will "be multiples of any amounts that Trading Cove has received.

But some Mohegan tribal members are resentful of the Trading Cove deal.

"It was supposed to be for the tribe, not outsiders," Carlisle Fowler, the Mohegan former tribal treasurer, said of Mohegan Sun in an interview last week.

And some Mashpee Wampanoag tribal members say they are suspicious about the deal their leaders have struck with the same investors in Middleborough - a deal they have not been shown. Documents filed with the tribe's pending federal application for reservation status at the site do not disclose financial terms.

"They don't let us see anything," said Michelle Fernandes, a member of the tribe. "It's a big secret."

Frank Sinatra once described Kerzner as "the world's best saloon keeper." The occasion was the opening of Sun City, the casino and resort developed by Kerzner in South Africa. One of the world's most successful casino moguls, Kerzner also developed the Atlantis resort in The Bahamas.

He landed in Montville, Conn., in 1994, enticed there by Wolman, a fellow South African then managing a Days Inn hotel in nearby Mystic. Wolman had pieced together a deal that he hoped would rival the already up-and-running Foxwoods casino, owned by the Mashantucket Pequot Indians and an instant success when it opened in 1992.

At the time, investors in Indian casinos received compensation by managing the facilities until tribes gained enough experience to do so themselves. Under the Indian Gaming Regulatory Act, passed by Congress in 1988, the maximum pay the investors could receive was 30 percent of gambling profits annually for five years. After that, investors could get no further payments.

Mohegan Sun opened in 1996, the second casino in New England. In its first full year of operation, Mohegan Sun had $611 million in gross revenues. Its immediate success spurred a vast expansion, including development of a 1,200-room luxury hotel, overseen by Trading Cove and completed in 2002.

By then, Trading Cove had negotiated an expanded contract. The new agreement was based on gross revenue, rather than net revenue: It not only gave Trading Cove a nickel of every dollar spent at Mohegan Sun's multiple casinos, but also on all spending by patrons at the hotel, restaurants, shops, and auditorium. The contract spans 2000 to 2015.

The National Indian Gaming Commission called the amount of money the Mohegan tribe was promising to pay Trading Cove "egregious," and clearly above the legal limit, but concluded in 1998 it lacked the authority to stop the new contract.

That's because, under a loophole in the Indian Gaming Regulatory Act, investors could avoid caps on their returns by calling their deals anything other than a management contract, usually a consulting contract.

Currently, the annual payment to Trading Cove from the Mohegan Sun is about $75 million. Over the last six fiscal years, Trading Cove received $368.9 million, compared with $367.5 million in casino profits distributed to the tribe.


By the time the agreement expires in 2015, total receipts for Trading Cove may exceed $1 billion, according to financial projections.

Mohegan tribal chairman Bruce "Two Dogs" Bozsum last week said he was not familiar with the deal made by his predecessors, one in which - according to public documents - Trading Cove put about $10 million into the original venture and provided a guarantee for about $90 million in bonds sold on Wall Street. Bozsum did, however, say that Trading Cove took a risk in backing the tribe in the 1990s.

In the late 1990s, there were 297 Indian tribes in the casino or bingo business nationally, taking in $8.4 billion a year. But the industry exploded, fueled in part by investors growing confidence they could outflank federal regulators to reap big profits. Today there are 419 tribes, doing more $26 billion a year in business.

And the vast majority of deals between investors and tribe are now made as something other than management contracts and therefore outside of regulatory review, according to the US Department of Interior's Inspector General.

As the industry grew, so have the sums that it spends on lobbyists in Washington, especially lobbyists who are former staffers for key regulatory agencies, and, in the case of Trading Cove, at least one lobbyist connected to Massachusetts politicians.

The Indian casino industry has spent $100 million for lobbying since 2001, according to the Center for Responsible Politics, a public interest group that compiles lobbying and campaign contribution data.

Trading Cove has spent almost $1 million since 2002 for lobbyists, including $495,000 since 2003 for lobbyist A. Bradford Card, managing partner of Dutko Worldwide. Card is the brother of Andrew Card, the former Bush administration White House chief of staff who in the 1980s served in the Massachusetts Legislature before running unsuccessfully for governor. When asked about his role, Card asked for written questions, but never responded to them.

Trading Cove is also represented by lobbyist Virginia Boylan, a former counsel to the Senate Indian Affairs Committee and now a partner at Drinker Biddle, another powerful firm. Trading Cove fees to Boylan's firm have totaled $460,000 since 2002.

In the last three years, the Mashpee Wampanoag tribe spent $520,000 for Washington lobbyists. Among them is Steven C. Schwadron, former chief of staff to US Representative William D. Delahunt, Democrat of Massachusetts. Most of the lobbying was connected to winning federal recognition for the tribe, but now includes "legislation and policies relevant to newly recognized tribes," Senate records say.

Trading Cove, through its lawyer, Korologos, said its goal is to "continue to oppose in lawful and legitimate ways any legislation in Congress" that interfere with tribal rights.

Len Wolman and and his brother Mark receive about $10 million a year from Mohegan Sun, according to publicly available records.

By 2015, the Wolman brothers' receipts are projected to exceed $100 million each from the Mohegan deal, out of the projected $1 billion. Kerzner's company is expected to receive about $500 million.

Meanwhile, divided among its 1,700 members, the Mohegan tribe's current share of profits works out to about $38,000 a year each. The tribe declined to say how it distributes its earnings.

When the details of the Trading Cove's 15-year contract first emerged in 2001 in the Globe, McCain vowed changes.

A bill he introduced in 2005 would have made sure that outside investors be firmly subject to the 30 percent cap.

Dennis J. Whittlesey, a longtime Indian casino lawyer based in Washington, said McCain's bill was not well-received by casino executives.

"A number of major developers were extremely concerned and made substantial moves to oppose it," he said.

The McCain bill was voted out of the Senate Indian Affairs Committee in March 2006 with a unanimous recommendation for passage by the full Senate.

But it died two months later, with no further discussion.

Roll Call, the Capitol Hill newspaper, reported that seven senators had put anonymous holds on the bill, meaning a vote of 60 senators was required to release it.

Some federal regulators continue to press for reforms. Earl E. Devaney, the US Department of Interior's inspector general, said in an interview in Washington that an overhaul of the Indian Gaming Act is still needed.

Without reforms, he said, "investors are going to have the leverage to demand and get higher and higher amounts of casino profits.

"The return they get on their investment now is huge."

How bout a little cheese with that whine... Mr. Cohen Sock-Puppet?

When an attorney publishes a statement like...

"Let’s get one thing straight: The Santa Ynez Band of Chumash Indians is a federally recognized tribe that is listed in the Federal Register of the U.S. Department of the Interior. There’s no arguing that fact, and that should have been the end of it"

... I scratch my head. Anything can be argued and I thought attorneys do (and know) that best. Besides, there's this little thing called the First Amendment. Unlike Indian aristocracies, we here in the United States value our free speech, and our right to question anything we damn well please.

Hmmm.. then i read a little further. Is "Mr. Cohen" REALLY a member of the tribe?:

"we were surprised by Lynch’s ridiculous accusations regarding the validity of our tribe"

Sounds to me like Vincent Armenta has a little Sammy Sockpuppet.

The "author" also claims Mr. Lynch was paid. I would like to see the receipt for that. Again I doubt a real attorney would say this kind of thing without proof.

The "author" makes a big deal out of Mr. Lynch having worked with heating equipment and attempts to quip:

"Is their next step hiring Larry the Cable Guy to provide his insights on the economic impact of Indian gaming? "

Well, if thats silly, how about hiring a welder to run a Las Vegas style casino Mr. Arementa? errr... Mr. Sammy Sockpuppet?

If the "author" really wanted to prove their point why not dispense with this pithy rebuttal and just link to scans of the 'proof' documents themselves?

Here it is from Capitol Weekly:

Historical record confirms legitimacy of Santa Ynez Chumash
By Sam Cohen (published Thursday, November 29, 2007)

To read James Lynch’s op-ed (“The Santa Ynez Chumash: A Question of Legitimacy”) in last week’s Capitol Weekly, one would think that there are questions surrounding the Santa Ynez Chumash tribe. There aren’t.

Let’s get one thing straight: The Santa Ynez Band of Chumash Indians is a federally recognized tribe that is listed in the Federal Register of the U.S. Department of the Interior. There’s no arguing that fact, and that should have been the end of it. But for the tribal opponents in the Santa Ynez Valley, facts have never gotten in the way of creating their own version of the truth.

Lynch’s op-ed represents only the latest in a long history of attacks against the Santa Ynez Band of Chumash Indians by a small group of tribal opponents in the Santa Ynez Valley.

Unfortunately, it has become commonplace to pick up a newspaper and read ludicrous claims from our tribal opponents. The vast majority of their ridiculous assertions are not even worthy of a response, including Lynch’s op-ed. It was riddled with so many factual inaccuracies that we wondered if we were reading an excerpt from a fictional novel.

While our first inclination was to ignore Lynch’s op-ed, we were bothered by the fact that an individual could make such outlandish claims and pass them off as the truth. We wondered how such preposterous allegations would make it past Capitol Weekly’s editorial standards.

Lynch mentions an 1899 court case (which was actually first filed in 1897), but he apparently failed to read the decision and order of the Court from March 31, 1906 (The Roman Catholic Bishop of Monterey vs. Salamon Cota, et al), both recognizing the Santa Ynez Indians and finding that the tribe’s existence predates the acquisition of the California territory by the United States in 1846. It also identifies the Zanja De Cota Creek reservation of the tribe.

Because there is such a wealth of well-researched historical documentation about the Santa Ynez Band of Chumash Indians and about the Santa Ynez Reservation, we were surprised by Lynch’s ridiculous accusations regarding the validity of our tribe.

In addition, his personal attacks on Chairman Armenta and his family were completely unnecessary. Frankly, we questioned the decision of Capitol Weekly’s editors to allow such statements to remain in Lynch’s op-ed.

Unfortunately, what Capitol Weekly editors may not know is that an entirely new cottage industry has surfaced within the tribal gaming industry. It’s an industry in which tribal opponents create their own experts and make up their own facts. Want to question a tribe’s very existence? Contact an individual who will make whatever disparaging comments you want against a tribe — for a fee.

Many of the so-called experts who travel the circuit are not recognized as legitimate in the real world. Take Lynch, for example. He has worked on a handful of fee-for-service projects that have consistently resulted in anti-tribal opinions. In a court document under sworn testimony, Lynch admitted that he has never concluded that any Indian tribe he investigated met the standards for federal acknowledgement.

With his anti-tribal track record and hired gun status, he was engaged by POLO/POSY, a tribal opposition group in Santa Ynez Valley that has fought everything from the tribe’s liquor license application (in the middle of wine country where more than 60 wineries reside) to the tribe’s plans to build a Chumash cultural museum.

For us, Lynch’s credibility is at the core of this latest attack from these tribal opponents. Under sworn testimony in 2006 (pages 481 and 483 of State of New York vs. Shinnecock Indian Nation), Lynch admits that he has no training in land titles or surveying and has spent the majority of his career as a heating equipment salesperson.

We certainly have no beef with heating equipment salespeople. But it’s highly doubtful that they possess the historical background and formal training required to research a topic as complex as colonial history. We have reviewed court documents in which Lynch provided so-called expert testimony, and he withered under cross-examination on questions pertaining to his credibility.

In his op-ed, Lynch claims that all POLO/POSY are asking for are accurate and honest answers to fair, legitimate questions. If that’s the case, why did they feel the need to employ a hired gun to spew out information that is not based on reality?

We have, in fact, answered any number of questions from POLO/POSY over the years, but they continue to search for answers that only fit their own distorted illusions. Truth, apparently, is not a requirement for them.

After all the shenanigans that these tribal opponents have been involved with lately, we have to wonder what’s next on their agenda. They hired a heating equipment salesperson to research the tribe’s history. Is their next step hiring Larry the Cable Guy to provide his insights on the economic impact of Indian gaming?

Members question tribe - and get kicked out...

...oh color me so surprised! To begin with it cannot be said there has been sufficient proof provided that any of the so-called tribal members are indeed the descendants they claim to be. That some of these so-called tribal member can decide 'who is' and 'who is not' is ironic and almost funny. Almost. It becomes alarming when you hear tales of dis-enrollment as the cure for anyone with the audacity to question tribal leadership or practices. It effectively gives casino tribes the ability to hide anything. Anything at all. From CNN:


Indian tribes expel members

PROVIDENCE, Rhode Island (AP) -- Dennis Champlain's grandfather helped win federal recognition for the Narragansett Indian Tribe. Champlain himself has danced in tribal powwows and teaches his children that they are Narragansetts.

Dennis Champlain and his extended family were removed from the rolls of the Narragansett Indian Tribe.

Yet the Narragansetts say he is no longer a member of the tribe.

Champlain and his extended family are among thousands of people removed from American Indian tribes in recent years, often amid tribal squabbles or when a casino comes to town. In Rhode Island, the Narragansetts' removal of about 140 of roughly 2,400 members has become an issue in Saturday's election for the tribe's chief sachem, or leader.

Tribal officials say they have the right to decide who is a member and to prevent fraud by people angling for a share of gambling money. But many of those kicked out complain they have little recourse to fight what amounts to an attack on their identity.

"We're in the process of a redefinition of tribal identity at its core," said David Wilkins, a political scientist at the University of Minnesota and a member of North Carolina's Lumbee Tribe. "It's ramping up in a way that's really quite frightening to a lot of Native people."

Wilkins traces most purges to four factors: internal political squabbles, stricter racial requirements for membership, punishment for gang or drug-related crime and, most often, during debates over sharing casino profits.

A 1978 U.S. Supreme Court ruling said the federal government should not intervene in most tribal membership disputes, leaving appeals up to the tribes.

Tribal casinos generated $25 billion in revenue last year, according to the National Indian Gaming Commission. Tribes often split the profits by making payments to members. Fewer members can mean a larger paycheck for those left.

But that paycheck can lure people with dubious claims of ancestry. The Pechanga Band of California said it was deluged with membership claims after it opened its casino in 1995.

John Gomez Jr., 39, a Pechanga member since childhood, was kicked out in 2004. He said gambling profits were one factor: He lost free health care and a $15,000 monthly payment. But he said he and others had questioned leaders before a tribal election.

"I think a lot of it has to do with the money, but there's a lot of it that's also about the politics," said Gomez, who co-founded the American Indian Rights and Resources Organization, a group that lobbies against expelling tribe members.

The Pechanga council has said it cut members who should never have been let in.

It's not clear how many people have been removed from tribes in the last few years. There are 562 federally recognized tribes, and tribal governments are not required to report citizenship decisions. But the number is in the thousands.

Gomez's advocacy group counts at least 1,500 people ousted from 13 tribes in California.

In Michigan, the Saginaw Chippewa want to remove about a tenth of their 2,700 members due to rules that require them to be at least one-quarter Indian. Critics said it's an attempt to cut casino payments.

The Cherokee Nation voted in March to deny citizenship to an estimated 2,800 descendants of tribal slaves.

In the Narragansett election, Paulla Dove Jennings, a historian, is running an underdog campaign against the incumbent, Matthew Thomas, saying it is unfair to take people's identities as Narragansetts away.

The tribe began a review of its roster about three years ago amid a failed push to build a casino -- but there is a dispute over why. Thomas said a tribal assembly, similar to a town meeting, voted to verify all tribal membership before adding several children to the roster.

But Leslie Champlain, a cousin of Dennis Champlain, said she attended the meeting and believes the tribe did not approve an audit. She suspects tribal leadership wanted to root out dissent after her sister, a tribal councilwoman, demanded a detailed audit showing how the tribe spent millions of dollars, some of it from the gambling company Harrah's Entertainment Inc.

Thomas called Champlain's claim "ridiculous" and said he is bound by the decisions of the tribal assembly and cannot be held responsible for someone else's ancestry.

Members were asked to prove they descend from ancestors listed on an 1880 census using birth, death and marriage certificates. The Champlains had used other documents as recently as 1994. This time, it was not enough.

Dennis Champlain said he learned his family was kicked out by reading about it in a newspaper. Thomas said members can appeal to a tribal court, but the Champlains say no one ever told them how to appeal.

Dennis Champlain does not blame his fellow Narragansetts, but he calls the process unjust.

"It's not a matter of whether it's right or wrong," he said. "It's a matter of who has the power. The tribe has the power -- we don't."

"The Untouchables"

If you or I owned a pub or bar, and were careless by feeding our customers too much alcohol, you can bet at some point one of our patrons would end up in a serious auto accident, possibly causing great harm to others. You can also bet that we would be named as defendents in lawsuits as a reward for our carelessness. However, if you are a tribal casino your sovereign nation status protects you from any such legal action. (Yet as tribal members you are allowed to contribute money to US political campaigns and vote in US elections.) From the Tucson Citizen:

Plaintiffs suing tribes can't get day in court
GARY FIELDS
The Wall Street Journal

The collision jolted Gary Filer awake in the back seat. A second impact brought his minivan crashing to a halt against a highway barrier. Filer lay partially on the road, his legs trapped in the wreckage, listening to the whine of his dog, Sadie. "She worked her way out and crawled over and lay on my lap," he remembers.

The minivan, driven by Filer's wife, had been hit by a Cadillac Escalade traveling the wrong way down Interstate 10.
The driver had been drinking heavily at the Desert Diamond Casino, six miles away.

The impact killed Filer's wife. The lower portion of Filer's right leg was later amputated. Sadie was euthanized.

The wreck's legal consequences seemed clear. Douglas Levitski, the Escalade driver, had a blood-alcohol level nearly three times the Arizona limit when he slammed into the Filers' Grand Voyager just after midnight on July 3, 2004. He was later charged with second-degree murder.

The casino where Levitski was drinking seemed a good target for a lawsuit. Like many states, Arizona has a law that makes liable establishments and employees who serve alcohol to visibly intoxicated customers who then cause accidents.

But when Filer went to sue the casino in state court in Tucson, he quickly learned that the textbook on civil litigation doesn't apply on tribal land, or to tribal entities. Under federal law, tribes are considered sovereign nations and are immune from most lawsuits. The Desert Diamond Casino where Levitski got drunk is on the San Miguel Reservation of the Tohono O'odham Nation.

So even though the accident itself involved no tribal members and took place off the reservation, Filer's state civil suit seeking $2 million in damages from the tribal-owned casino was rejected.

Arizona's appeals court upheld the decision.

"This conclusion, we hasten to add, may be unsatisfactory to some and arguably divorced from the realities of the modern world," wrote Judge John Pelander in the opinion.