Monday, November 26, 2012

Code Talker


Seeing Chester Nez this week affected me profoundly - I feel the emotional impact of his life every time I think of him, even as I write this. At 91, Chester is the last living member of the original group of twenty-nine Navajo Code Talkers who helped the United States defeat the Japanese during World War II. In a wheelchair, accompanied by his grandson, who appeared to be in his fifties, Chester exuded an air of modesty and quiet dignity while the co-author of a new book* about his life, Judith Avila, shared his story with the audience. Her presentation was creative. She asked audience members to imagine themselves as a young Navajo boy, whose mother died when he was three, being raised on a reservation by his grandmother who had a flock of three hundred sheep. Judith guided us in experiencing life through his eyes so we could appreciate how Chester acquired the perfect skills and character traits for becoming a Code Talker.

The fact that the Navajo language is very complex and based on oral, rather than written, tradition required that he develop his memory, become a keen observer and use his intelligence. To illustrate her point, she explained there are three verbs in the Navajo language meaning "to pick up." Selecting the correct verb depends on the object being picked up at the time. Chester’s physical fitness and stamina developed from the age of five when he began herding his grandmother's sheep. The high desert’s sparse vegetation required walking 15-20 miles a day to find suitable grazing. He could run for miles and became a great shot. Taking responsibility and working cooperatively were essential to his family's economic and physical survival. The flock grew to 1,000 sheep.

In boarding school, Navajo children learned to obey authority. They were punished - hit, kicked and beaten - when they made mistakes. Chester learned to work under tremendous pressure with perfect results. In the military, these skills enabled him to transmit coded messages in battle conditions when the accuracy of the message could affect thousands of lives. Despite the fact that they knew no English when they arrived at boarding school, children who spoke Navajo had their mouths washed out with naphtha soap, soap made from a petroleum distillate, similar to gasoline or benzene, used as a solvent or fuel. How ironic it is their speaking Navajo helped end the war in the Pacific, a great service to our country.

When Chester was thirteen or fourteen, the government Bureau of Indian Affairs decided Navajo “overgrazing” was contributing to Dust Bowl storms, so they dug trenches on the reservation, herded 700 of his grandmother’s sheep and goats into the trenches, poured accelerant on them and set them afire. Many of the animals had individual names and were pets. Judith Avila’s voice was choked with emotion while sharing this information. She told us it was extremely difficult for her to talk about it. I cried. It broke my heart. Between 1932 and 1944, the sheep population was reduced from 1.6 million to 400,000, completely destroying the Navajo economy. Some families received $2 - $3 a head for their livestock when market value was $8 - $14 a head. Chester was unsure if his family received any compensation. The Navajos never received an apology.

Just a few months after the attack on Pearl Harbor, Marine recruiters arrived looking for young Navajo men who spoke fluent English and fluent Navajo for a special project that would benefit their country. In his book, Chester says, he had been born to the warrior tradition, seeing himself inseparable from the earth he lived upon. As a protector of what is sacred, he was eager to defend his land. He and his fellow Navajos were sent to Guadalcanal where they developed a doubly-encrypted code, the only code never broken in the war, a code which even Navajo language speakers could not understand. During a question-and-answer period after the presentation, Judith Avila was asked if the Army or Air Force also used the code. She answered, “No they rejected it because they didn’t think Navajo Indians were intelligent enough to develop a good code.” In 1924 Native Americans became citizens. In 1948, three years after World War II ended, they were given the right to vote. After twenty-five years, the project was declassified, and Chester could finally tell his family what he did in the war. In 2001, forty-seven days before 9/11, Chester and his fellow Code Talkers were presented with the Congressional Gold Medal, the highest civilian honor Congress can bestow.

Several current events address similar, resonating themes. Stephen Spielberg’s new movie, “Lincoln,” depicts the struggle to choose a consciousness of unity rather than separation, equality rather than discrimination, acceptance rather than devaluation, cooperation rather than polarization in passing the Thirteenth Amendment to the Constitution as a follow up to the Emancipation Proclamation. Our own recent, very-close voting, just like that of Lincoln’s day, asked us to choose the vision for our future. By a narrow margin, the choice was made. Spurred by changing demographics, a critical mass has finally been reached, freeing us to move forward. Yesterday, 60 Minutes featured “Children Helping Children” an organization started by a 12-year-old seventeen years ago when he read about a Pakistani boy his same age, a slave in a carpet factory, who was murdered when he escaped to lead a campaign against servitude. “Children Helping Children” is now a $30-million-a-year organization with two million volunteers, building schools and educating children in Africa.  A recent rally was held for 20,000 people under the age of 18 who want to make a difference in the world. On Super Soul Sunday yesterday, Oprah featured three new spiritual leaders in their thirties who are shifting consciousness through their blogs, books and coaching. The end of one consciousness is the beginning of another. Perhaps this is the end of time chronicled by the Mayan calendar. I believe it is. Our choice is whether we will live in love or in fear. There’s still a lot of work to do, but more and more people are choosing love.  

*Code Talker: The First and Only Memoir by One of the Original Navajo Code Talkers of WWII  by Chester Nez with Judith Schiess Avila