World War I and the Federal Presence
Native Americans: the Home Front and the War
When Secretary of Treasury William McAdoo spoke at the Liberty Bond rally in
Albuquerque in late April 1918, the Spanish-language newspaper La Bandera Americana
reported, “The enthusiasm was boundless, and there was much shouting when it was
reported that the Pueblo of Laguna had contributed $23,000.”
The audience’s noisy response surely registered surprise over the amount raised, as
well as gratitude for the pueblo’s support of the war. But in New Mexico during 1917 and
1918—and throughout the United States—few people had any inkling of contributions by
American Indians to the conflict. As an example, those attending the bond rally in
Albuquerque were unaware that only three weeks earlier, on April 5, Commissioner of
Indian Affairs, Cato Sells, informed his agency superintendents that he expected to see “a
Liberty Bond . . . in the home of every Indian and every employee of our service.” He
believed such purchases promoted “the gospel of thrift . . . the beginnings of provident and
progressive habits.” The total amount of Liberty Bonds purchased by all Native Americans
exceeded twenty-five million dollars. The amount purchased in New Mexico by Pueblo,
Apache, and Navajo is unknown, but conservatively estimated at $200,000.
The Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA) used wartime Liberty Bond sales as one more
means to pursue a policy, begun in the 1880s, of forcing Native Americans to assimilate and
relinquish their ancestral customs and practices; however, wartime needs promoted some of
the very traditions that Commissioner Sells sought to extinguish. In New Mexico, Pueblo
Indians were praised for their skill in fulfilling one of the key aims of Herbert Hoover’s goals
as National Food Administrator: food preservation in an era before modern refrigeration.
The government pushed efforts to promote drying of fruits and vegetables under the
assumption such techniques were a “lost art.” Upon hearing such a claim, “the women [of
New Mexico] laughed in their sleeves” since the practice had a long history in the state:
“Even in the cliff dwellings there was found evidence that these early settlers practiced the
art of conservation—‘some time before the advent of Mr. Hoover.’” To document the
Indians’ widespread conservation practice, Mrs. W. E. Lindsey, wife of the governor and
head of the state’s Woman’s Committee of the Council of National Defense, sent Hoover
photographs “showing Indian pueblos in harvest—roof tops spread with grain, houses hung
with chili, the plaza spread with meat, squash, corn, beans, alfalfa, and corn shock, making a
veritable picture of plenty.”
About 12,000 Native American men served during World War I. New Mexico,
which had one of the largest populations of American Indians, contributed about 100
soldiers (nine one-thousandth of a percent). Why so few? A report in 1927 pointed to the
reasons:
Few even in New Mexico know that nearly a hundred Indians from this state
joined the ranks—Jicarilla and Mescalero Apache, Navajoes [sic], Pueblos
from Taos, San Juan, Santa Clara, Nambé, San Felipe, Isleta, Jemez, Laguna,
Acoma, and Zuñi. Perhaps those who scoffed in 1917 when it was suggested
to raise troops among these citizens realized later that hundreds of them might
have responded if they had been invited to enlist.
In sum: bias coupled with a belief by New Mexico draft officials that the federal
Selective Service Act of 1917 did not apply to Native Americans (they were not yet legally
recognized as full-fledged citizens). However, many did voluntarily register, especially older
Native Americans when, during the final draft registration in 1918, individuals up to age
forty-five were included in the call. Concerns over the legal status of Indians led to changes
on the final two (of three) draft registrations forms. In July and September 1918, Native
Americans for the first time marked “noncitizen or citizen Indian” when registering. Also
the September card included the first broad questions on race. Besides American Indian,
three further categories—“White, Negro, or Oriental”— appeared for the first time.
Native Americans enlistments often had some prompting—either by federal officials
or their tribal elders. The BIA’s contact with young men often proved decisive in their
choice. The Santa Fe Indian School had long drilled students in military formations, and
with the outbreak of war they urged their graduates to enlist. Ten Pueblo and Apache alumni
from New Mexico served in the army. At the Pueblo of San Juan (Ohkay Owingeh), the
showing of a government propaganda film vilifying Germany’s militarism and rallying
America to support the war prompted one member of the pueblo to enlist, and he eventually
served in France. Some tribal leaders strongly endorsed military service and, like Mexes of
the Mescalero Apache, urged their young men to enlist.
The war elicited patriotism and voluntary enlistment at a time few state officials
expected much from New Mexico’s Indian population. In combat, records for all Native
Americans show they were gassed, shot, and died at a much higher rate than Anglo soldiers.
Upon returning home, some New Mexico American Indians sealed their memories and
would not talk about the war with relatives, while others drew from it renewed inspiration
for traditional celebrations, especially war dances, which the BIA had tried for decades to
suppress. On balance, World War I helped subvert the BIA’s assimilation policy and
contributed to its ultimate failure.
© 2008 by David V. Holtby