HEBBRONVILLE, Texas — In this corner of southern Texas, the plump cacti seem to pop out of arid dust and cracked earth, like magic dumplings.
It’s only here and in northern Mexico that the bluish-green peyote plant can be found growing naturally, nestled under thorny mesquite, acacia and blackbrush.
For many Native American Church members who call this region the “peyote gardens,” the plant is sacrosanct and an inextricable part of their prayer and ceremony. It’s believed to be a natural healer that Indigenous communities have counted on for their physical and mental health as they’ve dealt with the trauma of colonization, displacement and erosion of culture, religion and language.
The cactus contains a spectrum of psychoactive alkaloids, the primary one being the hallucinogen mescaline, and is coveted for those psychedelic properties. Even though it is a controlled substance under federal law, an exemption afforded by a 1994 amendment to the American Indian Religious Freedom Act made it legal for Native Americans to use, possess and transport peyote for traditional religious purposes.
For more than two decades, Native American practitioners of peyotism, whose numbers in the U.S. are estimated at 400,000, have raised the alarm about lack of access to peyote, which they reverently call “the medicine.” They say poaching and excessive harvesting of the slow-growing cactus, which flowers and matures over 10 to 30 years, are endangering the species and ruining its delicate habitat.
Native American Church members say the situation has worsened with demands from advocates of the psychedelic renaissance seeking to decriminalize peyote and make it more widely available for medical research and treatment of various ailments. Agriculture, housing developments, wind farms in the region and the border wall are also damaging the habitat, experts say.
A vast majority of peyote people agree the plant must be protected and should be out of reach of medical researchers, Silicon Valley investors and other groups advocating peyote decriminalization. But there are diverse opinions within the Native American Church on how to accomplish that goal.
While at least one group spearheaded by Native American Church leaders has begun efforts to conserve and propagate peyote naturally in its habitat using philanthropic dollars, others in the church are more suspicious of investors’ intentions, saying they fear exploitation and would rather get funding from the U.S. government to protect peyote.
Peyote is my religion. Everything in my life has been based on prayers through that sacrament.
— Frank Dayish, former Navajo Nation vice president
Darrell Red Cloud, who is Oglala Lakota, remembers at age 4 using peyote and singing ceremonial songs at all-night peyote ceremonies with his family. Peyote has always been about forging a connection with the Creator, said Red Cloud. He’s the vice president of the Native American Church of North America.
“Our people were not religious people, we were prayerful people.”
Frank Dayish, former vice president of the Navajo Nation and chair of the Council of the Peyote Way of Life Coalition, compared peyote to the Eucharist in Catholicism.
“Peyote is my religion,” he said. “Everything in my life has been based on prayers through that sacrament.”
Adrian Primeaux, who is Yankton Sioux and Apache, says he grew up hearing the story of a malnourished and dehydrated Apache woman who fell behind her group during a forced relocation by the U.S. government in the 1830s.
“She was about to give up on life as she lay close to the Earth when she heard a plant speaking to her,” Primeaux said. “The peyote was telling her: Eat me and you will be well.”
She carried this plant back to Apache medicine men and elders who meditated and prayed with it, said Primeaux. He believes the Native American Church and what would become the Peyote Way of Life was unveiled during that spiritual quest.
Peyote is not just a medicinal herb — it is “a spiritual guide and a north star,” said Primeaux, who comes from five generations of peyote people. The plant has been a guiding light amid their traumatic history.
“It gave us hope and helped us process our thoughts, emotions and life purpose,” he said.
In October 2017, the National Council of Native American Churches purchased 605 acres in Hebbronville, Texas, to establish a peyote preserve and a “spiritual homesite” that is now run by the Indigenous Peyote Conservation Initiative, or IPCI.
Steven Benally, a Navajo elder from Sweetwater, Ariz., and an IPCI board member, remembers his annual pilgrimages to the peyote gardens with his family. He recalls losing access to the gardens after the “peyotero” system took over, in which government-licensed peyoteros harvested the button-like tops of the plant by the thousands and sold them to Native American Church members.
This meant that Native American people could not freely go onto privately owned ranches and prayerfully harvest peyote as they had done for generations. They lost their sacred connection with the land, Benally said.
It wasn’t until he threw open the gate to their sprawling ranch, affectionately called “the 605,” that Benally felt connected once again. He was so overcome by emotion that he placed a sign at the entrance with the words: “This is real.”
“It felt like we were finally living what we just dreamed, prayed and talked about,” he said.
One of Benally’s favorite spots on the property is a hilltop bench — a tranquil corner where visitors have placed prayer notes, painted rocks and other offerings to a nearby cluster of naturally sprouted peyote. Benally sits on the bench inhaling the gentle breeze and taking in the stillness.
“Our belief is that these plants, these animals, these birds are just like us,” he said. “They can hear, they can understand. They have their powers, they have their place, a purpose and a reason — just like us.”
The peyote preserve is a conservation site where the plant is not harvested but propagated and replanted naturally in its habitat without chemicals, said Miriam Volat, executive director of the nonprofit that oversees it. Native Americans who can produce their tribal identification cards can camp at the preserve and prayerfully harvest from amiable surrounding ranches, she said.
The goal is to restore peyote and its habitat, making it abundant in the region within the next 50 years.
Peyote grown in the nursery is under the U.S. Drug Enforcement Agency’s watchful eye, she said. Licensed to operate, the nonprofit tries to balance being welcoming with satisfying the agency’s requirement to secure the plant behind locked gates and camera monitoring.
Those trying to protect peyote disagree on whether it should be grown outside its natural habitat. While scientists and conservationists say it is essential for the protection of the species, many Native American Church members say doing so would dilute its sacred nature.
Bharath and Wardarski write for the Associated Press. Associated Press religion coverage receives support through the AP’s collaboration with The Conversation US, with funding from Lilly Endowment Inc. The AP is solely responsible for this content.
