Point Man for Gaming Tribes Is Bold Leader

The Pechanga Band of Luiseno Indians prepared for the worst when they opened their casino in Temecula over the July 4 weekend in 1995 as law enforcement surveillance helicopters buzzed overhead and a suspicious unmarked van parked nearby.

State and federal prosecutors had warned for months that the Pechanga Indians were engaged in an illegal operation. But tribal banking expert Anthony Miranda drew confidence from a mystical encounter he had experienced a few months earlier.

“A golden eagle had swooped just inches above my head,” he recalled. “It was a message from tribal spirits. I knew we couldn’t fail.”

He was right. The casino is among the most lucrative and glamorous in the state.

A man of traditional convictions with the subtlety of a freight train, Miranda, 39, is the newly elected chairman of the California Nations Indian Gaming Assn., the largest Indian gambling group in the state.

Tribal leaders say Miranda, an expert on slot machine construction, bank financing and cattle roping on horseback, is the right man for the job at a time of great uncertainty in California’s Indian country.

Indian casinos are so lucrative -- showing returns of 40% on the dollar -- that Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger has appointed Daniel Kolkey, who drafted the state’s first tribal gambling agreement, to negotiate financial concessions from California tribes. Renegotiating the 20-year tribal compacts is expected to begin as early as this week.

Though Miranda won’t be negotiating on behalf of the individual tribes, he will be called on by legislators and lobbyists as the voice of the state’s Indians who operate casinos.

Miranda is champing at the bit to meet with Schwarzenegger and trumpet tribal achievements. Indian gambling is among the few employment sectors growing in an otherwise stagnant California economy.

It has generated about 40,000 jobs statewide and pays roughly $130 million a year into state funds that support non-gambling tribes, programs designed to fight gambling addiction and efforts to mitigate environmental costs to cities and counties with Indian casinos. Gambling tribes also are the largest political donors in the state.

None of the decisions Miranda makes, not even the small ones, will be easy.

In the weeks ahead, his tasks will include establishing clear lines of communication between dozens of fiercely independent casino-owning tribes and Schwarzenegger, who wants the state to receive a “fair share” of their $4-billion industry. Miranda also aims to unify tribes in a campaign to squelch an initiative launched by card rooms and racetracks that would end Indians’ exclusive right to operate slot machines in the state.

In the meantime, Miranda’s board of directors expects him to increase membership in the association, which played a pivotal role in pushing the Indian casino initiative Proposition 1A over the top in 2000. Nearly two dozen tribes subsequently dropped out of the group, apparently believing the battle over legalized gambling was over and its services were no longer needed.

“When Prop. 1A passed, there was a sense of peace and cooperation in Indian country,” Miranda said. “But I never thought that. There will never be peace for tribes. There will always be war.”

That kind of tough talk rankles tribal attorneys, who worry about its impact on impending gambling negotiations with the Schwarzenegger administration.

Miranda’s hard-charging approach is a source of strength for tribal leaders who watched him in action at their annual conference last week. They say Miranda belongs to an emerging group of young, bright, business-savvy Native American leaders who are as much at ease in a corporate boardroom as they are in a sweat lodge.

In his first major speech as association chairman last week, Miranda displayed what even his supporters say is his characteristic brash manner.

“Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger blatantly used the tribes as political pawns to help sweep him into office,” Miranda said in his speech. “During his campaign, he singled out tribes for not paying their fair share.”

Aside from Miranda, other emerging leaders include Deron Marquez, chairman of the San Manuel Band of Mission Indians in San Bernardino; Tracy Edwards, chairwoman of the Redding Rancheria in Redding; Mark Maccaro, chairman of the Pechanga Band in Temecula and former television pitchman for the Indian gambling initiatives Proposition 5 and Proposition 1A; and Leslie Lohse, council treasurer for the Paskenta Band of Nomlaki Indians in Orland.

For these men and women, gambling is an inherent right of sovereign Indian nations, not a privilege granted by the federal government or the state of California. They stand by a white man’s promise, provided it’s put in writing, signed, and scrutinized by tribal attorneys. Above all else, they are staunch defenders of tribal sovereignty.

“These are young, energetic, forceful leaders who advocate with compassion,” said Michael Lombardi of the Augustine Band of Mission Indians in Coachella. “And we need them right now. The problem is that Indian nations have made some mistakes, in part because managing success has been much more challenging than campaigning for legalized gambling.”

One mistake was not continuing public outreach efforts after voters approved Indian casinos. Instead, tribes retreated into building their economies and competing against each other without a high-profile message of thanks to voters. At the time, the state’s economy was booming.

“What’s changed?” Lombardi asked rhetorically. “The state economy is in the toilet and Indians have stuff. Now, changing public perception about Indian gaming has become a wake-up call for our leaders.”

Mary Ann Andreas of the Morongo Band of Mission Indians and a Democratic candidate in the 80th Assembly District, which includes the Coachella Valley, agreed, saying: “We’re facing a difficult time in Indian country -- once again.”

“Everybody has a lot of confidence in [Miranda],” Andreas said, “and so do I.

“Just the other day, I was called to a private meeting of Native American tribal leaders that everyone thought was going to be an all-day, knock-down drag-out,” she said. “The subject was moving forward in unity against various threats. But Anthony handled it beautifully. There were no serious arguments, and we came to consensus.”

Schwarzenegger spokesman Vince Sollitto would not comment on Miranda or the association he heads. In general, he said, “The governor seeks a positive and mutually beneficial relationship, one that includes a win-win for the tribes and California, with the state receiving its fair share of Indian gaming revenues.”

“This issue is a high priority for the governor,” Sollitto said. “He has already appointed a lead negotiator, and a number of tribes have expressed an interest in beginning discussions.”

Leaning back in a chair in a meeting room at the Wyndham Hotel here recently, Miranda said his views about the often-contentious relationships between Indian nations and neighboring governments were forged while growing up in the community of Greenacres, near Hemet, and on the formerly poverty-stricken Pechanga reservation.

Before the casino was built, the reservation’s water system would break down in summer, leaving homes without water for two or three hours a day. Yet, just beyond the reservation’s borders, he could see sprinklers watering golf courses all day.

Then there was “commodity day,” when trucks delivered “government surplus food that nobody else wanted.”

While earning a bachelor of arts degree in administrative studies at UC Riverside, he worked in an auto salvage yard, a car machine shop and a veterinary office.

Later, he interned at Merrill Lynch, absorbing all he could about the stock and bond industry, and went on to work as a banking officer at Wells Fargo Bank in San Bernardino.

It was all useful experience for the next chapter of his life: shepherding large and small loan packages that helped the Pechangas become one of the first tribes to build a large Nevada-style casino without corporate backing.

Miranda has a message for tribes preparing to renegotiate their deals with the government: “We’ve shown that we can develop and run big businesses. But let us not forget our ancestors and elders, who are saying, ‘Hang onto your sovereignty, land and Indian ways. Those things are not up for barter.’ ”