Federal power and the case of the bone-snatchers. purchase of bones found on Sioux land in Hill City, South Dakota - struggle among the federal government and conflicting groups of paleontologists over the selling of dinosaur bones for profit; includes examination of case against the Black Hills Institute for Geological Research BHI - Column

0 Comments | Insight on the News, July 12, 1993 | by Deroy Murdock

Steven Spielberg's new film, Jurassic Park, has sparked a coast-to-coast frenzy of renewed interest in dinosaurs. A wealth of scaly, green national magazine covers, fast-food restaurant tie-ins and sold-out showings of the movie surely have executives at Universal Studios grinning.

But for the 650 people of Hill City, S.D, the buzz surrounding the $65 million movie is just a painful reminder of the ongoing campaign of harassment federal authorities have carried out against researchers at the Black Hills Institute for Geological Research, or BHI -- a local group of paleontologists, dinosaur scholars.

On June 7, according to accounts of local residents, about 30 agents of the FBI, the Internal Revenue Service, the Bureau of Land Management and other U.S. agencies seized more than 50 boxes of fossils, photos, maps and correspondence from the institute. U.S. Attorney Ted McBride of Sioux Falls said the search was part of an ongoing investigation, although no one has been charged with any wrongdoing.

The raid closely resembled the May 14, 1992, seizure by federal officials of a pristine Tyrannosaurus rex skeleton, nicknamed Sue. That spring, BHI researchers had excavated the bones, which may be the world's largest and most complete Tyrannosaurus rex skeleton. BHI planned a museum to showcase the specimen. National Geographic and a Canadian Imax film crew agreed to document the discovery of the 60 million-year-old skeleton.

Hill City's big plans were halted, however, when the team of armed federal agents and 20 National Guard troops stormed BHI's offices, stuffed Sue into crates and shipped her away on two 18-wheel rigs. Local residents, steamed by what they saw as a bizarre federal power grab, built a replica of Sue in the heart of town complete with an effigy of then-U.S. Attorney Kevin Schieffer clutched between her teeth. Soon, signs appeared that read, "Free Sue" and "Stop the Fossil Gestapo."

"This has got to be the most outrageous example of bureaucratic intrusion in the lives of private citizens that I've ever seen," says Jonathan Karl, a former Hill City resident and New York journalist who covered this affair for Reason magazine. "We have infringement on civil liberties, interference with business and harassment of private citizens. This case has it all."

The legal tar pit in which Sue is mired dates back to August 1990, when scientists discovered her on Maurice Williams's ranch in South Dakota. Williams, a member of the Cheyenne River Sioux tribe, received $5,000 from BHI for the right to remove the Tyrannosaurus rex skeleton from his property. Researchers then spent about 1,000 hours on his land doing so.

With only 10 other skeletons of Tyrannosaurus rex on display in the world, the Sioux tribe members saw Sue as a possible cash cow and asked Schieffer if they were entitled to the fossil. Because Williams once exercised his right as an American Indian to have his land held in trust by the U.S. government in order to legally avoid property taxes, Schieffer argued that Williams's ranch was federal property. He further concluded that it fell under the 1906 Antiquities Act, which forbids the removal of man-made objects from federal land.

So why would federal officials and troops worry themselves silly over an ancient pile of bones? They seem to have sided with the school of paleontologists that objects to selling dinosaur remains for a profit. "How can you possibly put a price on a fossil?" asks Robert Hunt, secretary of the Society of Vertebrate Paleontology.

But BHI President Peter Larson explains that his outfit excavates and sells dinosaur remains for three reasons: "To make the Earth's history available to people all over the world, to make a living, and to enable the staff to continue scientific studies, without government grants."

U.S. Attorney McBride says, "There are important values to be protected in a case like this," but BHI Administrator Marion Zenker disagrees. She sees federal officials' behavior as "part of the ongoing attempt by the bureaucratic apparatus behind the land management agencies to increase their power and their control over what goes on on public lands."

Rather than intimidate a band of peaceful scientists, the federal government should grant them permission to explore public lands for fossils. In return for wider access to these lands, researchers could pay Uncle Sam, say, a 10 percent royalty on any fossils sold. An even purer remedy would be for Washington to privatize parcels of land for fossil exploration -- through sales or long-term leases -- in much the same way it makes such property available to those who dig for fossil fuels.

Meanwhile, one year and four grand jury seatings after the federal agents snatched the skeleton, no charges have been filed against BHI. Larson laments, however, that "our funds are being sucked away to cover legal expenses." So far the institute has spent about $250,000 in legal fees, and staff members who have been subpoenaed have had to reach deep into their own pockets.