The War Club and the Code of Honor — Strange Bedfellows or Contented Couple? by Tamarack Song I grew up with the image of the War Club as a skull-crushing weapon wielded by screaming Native Warriors. I saw it displayed prominently in museum exhibits, and found instruction on how to make and decorate stylized versions in Native craft books. Pow Wow- dancing Indians reinforced that mystique as I watched them stalk and twirl across the dance floor with their Clubs. An yet something about that picture did not sit right with me. Why would the Guardian Warrior, who found his greatest glory in just touching the enemy and escaping to tell about it, wish to injure or kill him with a War Club — especially when doing so would bring not glory but possibly dishonor? I already knew that some Guardians would shave their heads with the exception their scalplock — a tuft of hair at the crown of the head that was often tied up and decorated to make it all the more conspicuous and taunting. This is done for two reasons: The Guardian shows great courage and trust in his abilities by so boldly and teasingly displaying his cherished scalplock, and he raises the stakes for himself because were his scalplock — his only hair — missing, it would be blaringly absent, and this would bring him shame. The Code of Honor amongst Guardians states that they hold each other in respect and that they deem the other's cause to be as honorable as their own. Thus they strive to not inflict bodily harm upon each other while pursuing their causes. In fact they will often go to great length to avoid doing so, for that would reflect either a lack of awareness and skill or emotional domination due to loss of centeredness. In order to live the Code of Honor the Guardian focuses his training on abilities that help him move under watchful eyes and execute his mission without detection. If found out, he knows how to become invisible or, if necessary, deflect resistance with a minimum of contact or injury. In pre-contact times, the hunting-gathering Native population of North America lived in a state of relative stability, so there was little tension and thus peace between Peoples. Still the Guardian trained, in preparation for the eventuality of conflict and for the personal fulfillment gained in the execution of perfected skill. He initiated actions to test his training, his goal being to descend into the bowels of danger and came back both unscathed and undetected. A common way to achieve this was by ‘counting coup' — to brazenly, but without detection, confiscate an item from the lodge of another People — especially from the lodge of a renowned Guardian. Coup could also be counted by plucking a feather worn by another or removing his scalplock and escaping untouched (especially in possession of your own scalplock). This was the dream of every young aspirant. Under this Code of Honor, shame, as well as glory, were usually short-lived. Hair grows back and a redeeming raid could be staged. In fact there was the potential to gain even more honor because a repeat raid carried more risk — the target person was undoubtedly more prepared and alert. And yet there was something else about the stereotypical image of the War Club that I did not realize until someone proposed it to me — the War Club was first and foremost a Hunting Club. My immediate reaction was, "Duh, why didn't I catch that?" I knew from my own experience that the Club is an exacting hunting tool in its own right. I knew that the Club was perhaps our earliest crafted hunting tool — the first step in evolution from the ‘sticks and stones' we picked up to extend our reach and magnify our thrust. A Hunting Club is no more than a stick with an attached stone or protruding knot of wood to add mass and therefore increase its force of impact. At close range it can be superior to a sharp-edged implement because it can deal an effective blow from nearly any angle. Young and slow animals are often more easily hunted with Club than with Arrow. Our nearest relative, the Chimpanzee, will use sticks as well, not so much as a defensive/aggressive weapon as to look more imposing. The same is true of the War Club; its psychological effect upon another can be easily surmised!. On the Hunt a Native carries a Club as sister to the Arrow, and I grew into the habit of doing the same. When Arrow maimed but did not kill, Club came to her rescue. Death by Arrow is sometimes slow; a blow to the skull is swift and final. (A contemporary Hunter will use a pistol in place of a Club to kill a rifle-wounded animal at close range.) I grew so accustomed to grabbing my Club along with my Bow when going hunting or to check a snare that I found that if I did not have it along I would feel like a Cat without claws. As would a Native, I used my Club to kill sick, injured, snared or arrow-wounded animals. The unneeded suffering incurred by an animal deprived of a quick death gives me pain, and I believe to allow such is disrespectful of the animal's spirit. Whenever possible I, as well as the Native Hunter, favor the Club over the Arrow, because the durability and longevity of the Club is much greater than that of the fragile Arrow. Also, because Arrowmaking is a labor-intensive craft, the Hunter is necessarily conservative in the use of his Arrows. In light of all this, how did we then come to associate the Club primarily as a weapon of the Guardian? It turns out that the War Club is actually known to the Native as a Hunting Club; its transformation from one to the other is a good example of how the lifeways of Native Peoples changed upon contact with the Conquerors. Let me explain . . . On the agenda of many Colonizers was the reduction or elimination of Native populations. Natives were conscripted to hunt other Natives. The Colonizers, aware of the Honor Code of the Guardian, knew they could not rely upon the scalplock as proof of death, so they required that the whole scalp, which includes the flesh in which the hair is imbedded, be presented in order to collect bounty. The removal of the scalp usually necessitates killing, often at very close range. This brought the Hunting Club — ideal for close range killing and already commonly used — into regular usage for the hunting of People. Thus it became known as the War Club. People in technological cultures tend to use the tool to symbolize the tool user, and the use of the tool to define his values. This may be valid in their culture, but when applied to People of non-technological cultures, erroneous images emerge. Thus we have come not only to know the Hunting Club as a War Club, but also the Guardian as Warrior.