ARIZONA — A landmark water rights settlement involving three tribes in northeastern Arizona, poised to become the largest of its kind in U.S. history, is now under congressional review. The proposed Northeast Arizona Indian Water Rights Settlement Act of 2025 would resolve decades of litigation and negotiation among the Navajo Nation, the Hopi Tribe, and the San Juan Southern Paiute Tribe, delivering them a collective 56,000 acre-feet of Colorado River water annually along with extensive new rights to groundwater. The agreement also entails a requirement that the Navajo Nation and Hopi Tribe leave a specified volume of upper-basin water in Lake Powell for the next twenty years, while allowing them to lease part of their entitlement for economic gain. If approved by Congress and signed into law, it will simultaneously end the tribes’ long-standing claims to the main stem of the Colorado River, the Little Colorado River, and key aquifers in Arizona, thereby offering a fresh framework for water distribution in a region confronted by long-term drought and escalating demands.
For many observers, the broad scope of the bill signals an unprecedented step in resolving tribal water claims that have roiled Arizona for generations. Negotiators spent years in methodical talks involving not just the tribes but also state officials, federal agencies, and neighboring water users. The measure’s scale—estimated at $5.1 billion in authorized funding—underscores how high the stakes are. By providing a legal basis for tribal water use and an infusion of federal money for infrastructure, the settlement stands to have a transformative effect on communities in northeastern Arizona. And because it cements new water allocations within the broader Colorado River system, its ripple effects may be felt in distant corners of the state, including Mohave County, where officials have watched these negotiations with interest. After all, water is a shared, interconnected resource in the desert Southwest, and any changes in who can draw from the river or its tributaries ultimately factor into the region’s broader hydrological balance.
The premise of the settlement is straightforward but sweeping. In exchange for recognizing a firm allocation of over 56,000 acre-feet of Colorado River water per year, plus distinct groundwater protections in parts of northeastern Arizona, the Navajo Nation, Hopi Tribe, and San Juan Southern Paiute Tribe will relinquish their unresolved legal claims to a range of surface and subsurface waters. That includes the Little Colorado River basin, main-stem Colorado flows, and other aquifers they previously argued should be subject to aboriginal or treaty-based rights. Historically, these claims raised the possibility that if tribes succeeded in court, non-tribal municipalities, farmers, or industrial users elsewhere in Arizona could see their own supplies curtailed. The proposed settlement sidesteps that risk by creating a definitive compromise. It grants the tribes a measure of security and financial resources while giving the state and other water users predictability and finality. As one state official said last year, it amounts to a “grand bargain” that acknowledges past tribal rights and modern water realities.
A unique element of the settlement is the requirement that the Navajo Nation and Hopi Tribe leave 17,050 acre-feet of their Colorado River share in Lake Powell for the first twenty years. This condition effectively reserves part of their entitlement in the reservoir to help stabilize levels in the upper-basin system. It is a concession that addresses growing alarm over Lake Powell’s decline amid a two-decades-long drought on the Colorado. Federal managers have worried about “dead pool” scenarios, where water levels fall so low that power generation at Glen Canyon Dam becomes jeopardized. By leaving 17,050 acre-feet untouched annually, the tribes are contributing to the reservoir’s health. At the same time, they will have the option to put the remainder of their allocation to beneficial use within tribal lands, or to lease a portion of it to outside entities for economic development. Tribal leaders consider this leasing provision essential—it provides potential revenue streams that can spur capital projects or job creation in areas with historically high unemployment.
That prospective leasing could resonate statewide. Cities and industries in central or southern Arizona, thirsting for additional water supplies, may be able to negotiate deals with the tribes. Some critics, however, fear that water leasing on a large scale could intensify competition among municipalities, or invite speculation if water becomes a traded commodity. Supporters counter that tribal leasing is not new—several other tribes in Arizona and neighboring states have used well-established lease frameworks—and it can be heavily regulated to ensure it does not undermine conservation goals. The difference here is that the amount of water involved is considerable, and the arrangement flows from an unprecedented settlement of claims that had once threatened to overshadow every major user on the Little Colorado and beyond.
Another key factor is the $5.1 billion authorized for infrastructure. The settlement text indicates that these funds would be distributed over many years to acquire, build, and maintain essential water development projects on the three reservations. That might include pipelines from the Colorado River into remote reservation communities, irrigation systems for agriculture, and modern water treatment facilities. Many tribal residents today still lack reliable access to clean water at home, an enduring injustice that the settlement aims to fix by channeling federal dollars into major construction. Observers compare it to earlier Indian water rights settlements in the state, such as the Gila River Indian Community deal in 2004, which brought CAP water pipelines to the tribe’s farmland. The difference is that in scale, the Northeast Arizona Indian Water Rights Settlement Act dwarfs previous deals, not only by the quantity of water but also by the level of funding for improvements.
For Mohave County and other regions along the main-stem Colorado, the settlement’s significance lies in clarifying the upper-basin allocations. The tribes have historically argued their aboriginal territory spanned across multiple watersheds, meaning they had legitimate claims that could potentially reduce downstream entitlements. The settlement effectively draws a line under those claims, substituting them for an agreed-upon share. In that sense, water managers in Mohave County see the settlement as preserving stable conditions for their own entitlements. They also emphasize that taking tribal claims off the table reduces future legal uncertainty. “We appreciate a negotiated settlement that brings finality to a complex puzzle,” one county staffer remarked during local water-planning workshops. Indeed, while some Mohave County farmers or businesses may compete with central Arizona or out-of-state interests for leased water, at least everyone now knows the new baseline is 56,000 acre-feet for the tribes, with a fraction left in Lake Powell.
Legislatively, the settlement is advancing through committees in the House and Senate. Supporters hope to see it pass by early summer, although the measure’s hefty price tag could draw scrutiny in a Congress where federal spending remains a contentious issue. Still, southwestern politicians from both parties largely back the bill, citing the importance of tribal sovereignty and water stability in a region battered by drought. Allies of the tribes highlight the moral argument that these communities have waited far too long for the recognition of water rights promised by treaties and the federal trust responsibility. The Navajo Nation, Hopi Tribe, and San Juan Southern Paiute Tribe each have distinct concerns, but all converge on the notion that a comprehensive settlement best serves their peoples’ future. They also stress the greater cost that might arise if courts returned a favorable ruling for them in protracted litigation—an outcome that could unravel decades of water planning statewide.
The question of local control also arises. Because the settlement is federal legislation, it will preempt certain state-level processes and finalize tribal entitlements beyond the usual Arizona water adjudication channels. While state officials have cooperated in drafting the measure, some local irrigation districts or counties might feel overshadowed by the magnitude of a congressional act. Yet the alternative—multitude lawsuits over who has priority to the Colorado and Little Colorado waters—seems far riskier. In that sense, even those who harbor reservations about ceding more power to the federal government often see the settlement as the lesser evil, forging a stable outcome that fosters planning. Arizona’s Department of Water Resources has signaled support, saying it resolves some of the last major unsettled tribal claims in the state. For the three tribes, the knowledge that at last they have secure, congressionally recognized water sources is a historic breakthrough.
Another dimension to watch is the conservation angle. By tying the tribes’ water supply to Lake Powell’s levels—namely, the annual 17,050 acre-feet that must remain in the reservoir for two decades—the settlement nods toward integrated management of the upper Colorado River basin. It addresses concerns that new tribal pumping might further deplete a reservoir already under stress. Over twenty years, that “reserved water” in Lake Powell amounts to hundreds of thousands of acre-feet that, in principle, helps keep the reservoir above critical thresholds. Tribal leaders say they accepted this tradeoff after receiving firm commitments of federal investment. For them, controlling a guaranteed 56,000 acre-feet overall, even if a fraction is temporarily locked in the reservoir, is better than continuing to fight for a theoretical larger quantity with no infrastructure or economic provisions.
From the vantage point of environmental advocates, the settlement has garnered mixed reviews. Some groups praise the impetus to fund water projects that might reduce groundwater overpumping or bring safe drinking water to reservation households. Others question whether encouraging the tribes to lease water out might invite more consumption by fast-growing municipalities.
Among the three tribes, each has a unique perspective on the settlement’s significance. The Navajo Nation, which straddles a vast expanse of desert, has historically faced severe water shortages in remote areas where many residents haul water by truck. If the settlement is approved, new pipelines and treatment facilities could drastically improve living conditions. The Hopi Tribe, known for its ancestral villages atop mesas, likewise has confronted chronic water scarcity and contaminated groundwater. They look to the settlement’s funds to develop safe supplies. The smaller San Juan Southern Paiute Tribe sees the agreement as a chance to solidify its land base and water identity, ending a precarious situation in which its claims lacked formal recognition.
Should the bill pass, implementation might take years. The U.S. Bureau of Reclamation, Indian Health Service, and other federal agencies would coordinate with tribal governments to design and construct water infrastructure. A special settlement commission might be established to oversee disbursement of the $5.1 billion, ensuring that it pays for pipelines, wells, storage tanks, and staff training. Meanwhile, the tribes would begin phasing in their water use, abiding by the conditions on Lake Powell for the first twenty years. They might concurrently develop leasing frameworks with outside cities or farmland. Under typical water leasing deals in Arizona, the lease terms run for a set period, with the tribe retaining ultimate ownership of the water right. Urban or industrial users benefit from a stable supply, while tribal communities earn revenue. The scale of possible deals under this settlement remains unclear, but any such arrangement could send tens of thousands of acre-feet to off-reservation users, provided it meets the act’s guidelines.
In Mohave County, the settlement’s direct effect is less pronounced than in northeastern Arizona, yet county water planners see a net positive. It solidifies the broader statewide puzzle of tribal entitlements. Settlements in the past, such as those with the Gila River Indian Community, helped close a chapter of uncertainty for central Arizona. This new act does much the same for the Colorado’s upper basin in Arizona. Ultimately, that fosters stability for all parties. With the Navajo, Hopi, and San Juan Southern Paiute no longer pursuing separate litigation for bigger shares of the river, other water stakeholders—cities, irrigation districts, counties, and business interests—can plan with more confidence, including in Mohave County’s own future growth. As water attorneys often note, the worst outcome in water disputes is indefinite litigation. A settlement, though costly, can yield finality.
In the near term, attention turns to Capitol Hill, where supporters aim to pass the settlement. Some lawmakers may question the $5.1 billion cost, especially under the Trump administration’s push for budget restraint. Tribal representatives retort that the alternative—drawn-out lawsuits and the possibility of losing in court—could prove far more expensive for the federal government. Key committees are expected to hold hearings in the coming weeks. Proponents hope that the wide bipartisan support from southwestern delegations, combined with a sense of urgency about the Colorado River’s precarious state, will carry the bill to final passage.
—Jeremy Webb
- Thu, 17 April 2025
