The politics of mining uranium

As a former commander of Norfolk Naval Base and a nuclear weapons officer who worked on Russian atomic secrets at the National Security Council, Joe Bouchard knows something about uranium.

As a Ph.D. and Democratic delegate from Virginia Beach who works on environmental and scientific issues on two important House committees, Bouchard also knows something about the politics of uranium.

Bouchard is a skeptic on a proposed uranium mine in Pittsylvania County that foes fear will, among other things, poison the water supply of Virginia Beach, about 100 miles downstream. He favors a study of the proposal but insists it be free of influence by either side.

Bouchard has no doubts what could drive a decision by the General Assembly to lift a 27-year prohibition on uranium mining: money. He is sharing this view with an opposition that seems to believe outrage alone is sufficient to stop the project.

About three weeks ago, Bouchard met in Virginia Beach with mine opponents, some of whom had motored east from Pittsylvania, more than 200 miles away. He prepared a PowerPoint presentation that neatly captures the obstacles they face.

While not intended as such, Bouchard's talking points could have been those of industry:

Mining promotes energy independence. It could hold down electric rates. It complements existing nuclear design and construction operations in Lynchburg and Newport News.

Mining is potentially hugely profitable, and, by extension, a potent source of local and state tax revenue. A mine would generate jobs in a region rapidly losing them to the collapse of manufacturing.

"These are powerful arguments that will carry great weight with the Virginia Coal and Energy Commission, General Assembly and probably a majority of the voters in Virginia," warns one slide in italics that call attention to the hearts-versus-pocketbook nature of the uranium debate.

That Virginia's government, because of the right-to-work law and sky's-the-limit political contributions, is gamed for big business is old news.

So, too, is the occasional result: Virginia can be an inattentive steward of the environment. A reminder these days is the slow suffocation of the Chesapeake Bay.

In his presentation, Bouchard touches on environmental and safety concerns, including disposal of radioactive detritus and the peril to water pumped through a pipeline from Lake Gaston to Virginia Beach.

Virginia Beach, population 425,000, opposes the mine until scientific authorities -- independent of an industry willing to pay $1 million for a state study -- can prove there is no threat to the public.

Neighboring Chesapeake, with 215,000 souls, is leery about the mine. Norfolk may yet take a position, worrying for its 235,000 residents.

But the health-and-environmental argument that is dismissed as the preoccupation of greens in jeans plays into an issue that perhaps only a Joe Bouchard, a man schooled in war and peace, could appreciate.

The water that originates in Lake Gaston slakes the thirst of sailors, Marines and their families at bases across South Hampton Roads. Bouchard's command from 2000-03, the Norfolk Naval Base, is home to 65,000.

Should harm come to the water supply, that "would be a severe threat to national security," says Bouchard.

And so another front opens in the battle over uranium mining.

Contact Jeff E. Schapiro at (804) 6496814 or . Watch his video column Thursdays on inRich.com. Listen to his analysis Fridays at 8:33 a.m. on WCVE radio (88.9 FM).