It was vital that the German High Command never suspected that the Allies had pinched Enigma codebooks. If the Germans found that their security had been compromised, they would upgrade their Enigma machines, and Bletchley would be back to square one. As with the Zimmermann telegram episode, the British took various precautions to avoid arousing suspicion, such as sinking a German vessel after pinching its codebooks. This would persuade Admiral Donitz that the cipher material had found its way to the bottom of the sea, and not fallen into British hands.

Once material had been secretly captured, further precautions had to be taken before exploiting the resulting intelligence. For example, the Enigma decipherments gave the locations of numerous U-boats, but it would have been unwise to have attacked every single one of them, because a sudden unexplained increase in British success would warn Germany that its communications were being deciphered. Consequently, the Allies would allow some U-boats to escape, and would attack others only when a spotter plane had been sent out first, thus justifying the approach of a destroyer some hours later. Alternatively, the Allies might send fake messages describing sightings of U-boats, which likewise provided sufficient explanation for the ensuing attack.

Despite this policy of minimizing telltale signs that Enigma had been broken, British actions did sometimes raise concerns among Germany's security experts. On one occasion, Bletchley deciphered an Enigma message giving the exact location of a group of German tankers and supply ships, nine in total. The Admiralty decided not to sink all of the ships in case a clean sweep of targets aroused German suspicions. Instead, they informed destroyers of the exact location of just seven of the ships, which should have allowed the informed destroyers of the exact location of just seven of the ships, which should have allowed the Gedania Gedania and the and the Gonzenheim Gonzenheim to escape unharmed. The seven targeted ships were indeed sunk, but Royal Navy destroyers accidentally encountered the two ships that were supposed to be spared, and also sank them. The destroyers did not know about Enigma or the policy of not arousing suspicion-they merely believed they were doing their duty. Back in Berlin, Admiral Kurt Fricke instigated an investigation into this and other similar attacks, exploring the possibility that the British had broken Enigma. The report concluded that the numerous losses were either the result of natural misfortune, or caused by a British spy who had infiltrated the Kriegsmarine. The breaking of Enigma was considered impossible and inconceivable. to escape unharmed. The seven targeted ships were indeed sunk, but Royal Navy destroyers accidentally encountered the two ships that were supposed to be spared, and also sank them. The destroyers did not know about Enigma or the policy of not arousing suspicion-they merely believed they were doing their duty. Back in Berlin, Admiral Kurt Fricke instigated an investigation into this and other similar attacks, exploring the possibility that the British had broken Enigma. The report concluded that the numerous losses were either the result of natural misfortune, or caused by a British spy who had infiltrated the Kriegsmarine. The breaking of Enigma was considered impossible and inconceivable.

The Anonymous Crypta.n.a.lysts As well as breaking the German Enigma cipher, Bletchley Park also succeeded in deciphering Italian and j.a.panese messages. The intelligence that emerged from these three sources was given the codename Ultra, and the Ultra Intelligence files were responsible for giving the Allies a clear advantage in all the major arenas of conflict. In North Africa, Ultra helped to destroy German supply lines and informed the Allies of the status of General Rommel's forces, enabling the Eighth Army to fight back against the German advances. Ultra also warned of the German invasion of Greece, which allowed British troops to retreat without heavy losses. In fact, Ultra provided accurate reports on the enemy's situation throughout the entire Mediterranean. This information was particularly valuable when the Allies landed in Italy and Sicily in 1943.

In 1944, Ultra played a major role in the Allied invasion of Europe. For example, in the months prior to D-Day, the Bletchley decipherments provided a detailed picture of the German troop concentrations along the French coast. Sir Harry Hinsley, official historian of British Intelligence during the war, wrote: As Ultra acc.u.mulated, it administered some unpleasant shocks. In particular, it revealed in the second half of May-following earlier disturbing indications that the Germans were concluding that the area between Le Havre and Cherbourg was a likely, and perhaps even the main, invasion area-that they were sending reinforcements to Normandy and the Cherbourg peninsula. But this evidence arrived in time to enable the Allies to modify the plans for the landings on and behind the Utah beach; and it is a singular fact that before the expedition sailed the Allied estimate of the number, identification, and location of the enemy's divisions in the west, fifty-eight in all, was accurate in all but two items that were to be of operational importance. area-that they were sending reinforcements to Normandy and the Cherbourg peninsula. But this evidence arrived in time to enable the Allies to modify the plans for the landings on and behind the Utah beach; and it is a singular fact that before the expedition sailed the Allied estimate of the number, identification, and location of the enemy's divisions in the west, fifty-eight in all, was accurate in all but two items that were to be of operational importance.

Throughout the war, the Bletchley codebreakers knew that their decipherments were vital, and Churchill's visit to Bletchley had reinforced this point. But the crypta.n.a.lysts were never given any operational details or told how their decipherments were being used. For example, the codebreakers were given no information about the date for D-Day, and they arranged a dance for the evening before the landings. This worried Commander Travis, the Director of Bletchley and the only person on site who was privy to the plans for D-Day. He could not tell the Hut 6 Dance Committee to cancel the event because this would have been a clear hint that a major offensive was in the offing, and as such a breach of security. The dance was allowed to go ahead. As it happened, bad weather postponed the landings for twenty-four hours, so the codebreakers had time to recover from the frivolities. On the day of the landings, the French resistance destroyed landlines, forcing the Germans to communicate solely by radio, which in turn gave Bletchley the opportunity to intercept and decipher even more messages. At the turning point of the war, Bletchley was able to provide an even more detailed picture of German military operations.

Stuart Milner-Barry, one of the Hut 6 crypta.n.a.lysts, wrote: "I do not imagine that any war since cla.s.sical times, if ever, has been fought in which one side read consistently the main military and naval intelligence of the other." An American report came to a similar conclusion: "Ultra created in senior staffs and at the political summit a state of mind which transformed the taking of decisions. To feel that you know your enemy is a vastly comforting feeling. It grows imperceptibly over time if you regularly and intimately observe his thoughts and ways and habits and actions. Knowledge of this kind makes your own planning less tentative and more a.s.sured, less harrowing and more buoyant."

It has been argued, albeit controversially, that Bletchley Park's achievements were the decisive factor in the Allied victory. What is certain is that the Bletchley codebreakers significantly shortened the war. This becomes evident by rerunning the Battle of the Atlantic and speculating what might have happened without the benefit of Ultra intelligence. To begin with, more ships and supplies would certainly have been lost to the dominant U-boat fleet, which would have compromised the vital link to America and forced the Allies to divert manpower and resources into the building of new ships. Historians have estimated that this would have delayed Allied plans by several months, which would have meant postponing the D-Day invasion until at least the following year. According to Sir Harry Hinsley, "the war, instead of finishing in 1945, would have ended in 1948 had the Government Code and Cypher School not been able to read the Enigma cyphers and produce the Ultra intelligence." were the decisive factor in the Allied victory. What is certain is that the Bletchley codebreakers significantly shortened the war. This becomes evident by rerunning the Battle of the Atlantic and speculating what might have happened without the benefit of Ultra intelligence. To begin with, more ships and supplies would certainly have been lost to the dominant U-boat fleet, which would have compromised the vital link to America and forced the Allies to divert manpower and resources into the building of new ships. Historians have estimated that this would have delayed Allied plans by several months, which would have meant postponing the D-Day invasion until at least the following year. According to Sir Harry Hinsley, "the war, instead of finishing in 1945, would have ended in 1948 had the Government Code and Cypher School not been able to read the Enigma cyphers and produce the Ultra intelligence."

During this period of delay, additional lives would have been lost in Europe, and Hitler would have been able to make greater use of his V-weapons, inflicting damage throughout southern England. The historian David Kahn summarizes the impact of breaking Enigma: "It saved lives. Not only Allied and Russian lives but, by shortening the war, German, Italian, and j.a.panese lives as well. Some people alive after World War II might not have been but for these solutions. That is the debt that the world owes to the codebreakers; that is the crowning human value of their triumphs."

After the war, Bletchley's accomplishments remained a closely guarded secret. Having successfully deciphered messages during the war, Britain wanted to continue its intelligence operations, and was reluctant to divulge its capabilities. In fact, Britain had captured thousands of Enigma machines, and distributed them among its former colonies, who believed that the cipher was as secure as it had seemed to the Germans. The British did nothing to disabuse them of this belief, and routinely deciphered their secret communications in the years that followed.

Meanwhile, the Government Code and Cypher School at Bletchley Park was closed and the thousands of men and women who had contributed to the creation of Ultra were disbanded. The bombes were dismantled, and every sc.r.a.p of paper that related to the wartime decipherments was either locked away or burned. Britain's codebreaking activities were officially transferred to the newly formed Government Communications Headquarters (GCHQ) in London, which was moved to Cheltenham in 1952. Although some of the crypta.n.a.lysts moved to GCHQ, most of them returned to their civilian lives, sworn to secrecy, unable to reveal their pivotal role in the Allied war effort. While those who had fought conventional battles could talk of their heroic achievements, those who had fought intellectual battles of no less significance had to endure the embarra.s.sment of having to evade questions about their wartime activities. Gordon Welchman recounted how one of the young crypta.n.a.lysts working with him in Hut 6 had received a scathing letter from his old headmaster, accusing him of being a disgrace to his school for not being at the front. Derek Taunt, who also worked in Hut 6, summed up the true contribution of his colleagues: "Our happy band may not have been with King Harry on St. Crispin's Day, but we had certainly not been abed and have no reason to think ourselves accurs't for having been where we were." Communications Headquarters (GCHQ) in London, which was moved to Cheltenham in 1952. Although some of the crypta.n.a.lysts moved to GCHQ, most of them returned to their civilian lives, sworn to secrecy, unable to reveal their pivotal role in the Allied war effort. While those who had fought conventional battles could talk of their heroic achievements, those who had fought intellectual battles of no less significance had to endure the embarra.s.sment of having to evade questions about their wartime activities. Gordon Welchman recounted how one of the young crypta.n.a.lysts working with him in Hut 6 had received a scathing letter from his old headmaster, accusing him of being a disgrace to his school for not being at the front. Derek Taunt, who also worked in Hut 6, summed up the true contribution of his colleagues: "Our happy band may not have been with King Harry on St. Crispin's Day, but we had certainly not been abed and have no reason to think ourselves accurs't for having been where we were."

After three decades of silence, the secrecy over Bletchley Park eventually came to an end in the early 1970s. Captain F.W. Winterbotham, who had been responsible for distributing the Ultra intelligence, began to badger the British Government, arguing that the Commonwealth countries had stopped using the Enigma cipher and that there was now nothing to be gained by concealing the fact that Britain had broken it. The intelligence services reluctantly agreed, and permitted him to write a book about the work done at Bletchley Park. Published in the summer of 1974, Winterbotham's book The Ultra Secret The Ultra Secret was the signal that Bletchley personnel were at last free to discuss their wartime activities. Gordon Welchman felt enormous relief: "After the war I still avoided discussions of wartime events for fear that I might reveal information obtained from Ultra rather than from some published account...I felt that this turn of events released me from my wartime pledge of secrecy." was the signal that Bletchley personnel were at last free to discuss their wartime activities. Gordon Welchman felt enormous relief: "After the war I still avoided discussions of wartime events for fear that I might reveal information obtained from Ultra rather than from some published account...I felt that this turn of events released me from my wartime pledge of secrecy."

Those who had contributed so much to the war effort could now receive the recognition they deserved. Possibly the most remarkable consequence of Winterbotham's revelations was that Rejewski realized the staggering consequences of his prewar breakthroughs against Enigma. After the invasion of Poland, Rejewski had escaped to France, and when France was overrun he fled to Britain. It would seem natural that he should have become part of the British Enigma effort, but instead he was relegated to tackling menial ciphers at a minor intelligence unit in Boxmoor, near Hemel Hempstead. It is not clear why such a brilliant mind was excluded from Bletchley Park, but as a result he was completely unaware of the activities of the Government Code and Cypher School. Until the publication of Winterbotham's book, Rejewski had no idea that his ideas had provided the foundation for the routine decipherment of Enigma throughout the war. relegated to tackling menial ciphers at a minor intelligence unit in Boxmoor, near Hemel Hempstead. It is not clear why such a brilliant mind was excluded from Bletchley Park, but as a result he was completely unaware of the activities of the Government Code and Cypher School. Until the publication of Winterbotham's book, Rejewski had no idea that his ideas had provided the foundation for the routine decipherment of Enigma throughout the war.

For some, the publication of Winterbotham's book came too late. Many years after the death of Alastair Denniston, Bletchley's first director, his daughter received a letter from one of his colleagues: "Your father was a great man in whose debt all English-speaking people will remain for a very long time, if not forever. That so few should know exactly what he did is the sad part."

Alan Turing was another crypta.n.a.lyst who did not live long enough to receive any public recognition. Instead of being acclaimed a hero, he was persecuted for his h.o.m.os.e.xuality. In 1952, while reporting a burglary to the police, he naively revealed that he was having a h.o.m.os.e.xual relationship. The police felt they had no option but to arrest and charge him with "Gross Indecency contrary to Section 11 of the Criminal Law Amendment Act 1885." The newspapers reported the subsequent trial and conviction, and Turing was publicly humiliated.

Turing's secret had been exposed, and his s.e.xuality was now public knowledge. The British Government withdrew his security clearance. He was forbidden to work on research projects relating to the development of the computer. He was forced to consult a psychiatrist and had to undergo hormone treatment, which made him impotent and obese. Over the next two years he became severely depressed, and on June 7, 1954, he went to his bedroom, carrying with him a jar of cyanide solution and an apple. Twenty years earlier he had chanted the rhyme of the Wicked Witch: "Dip the apple in the brew, Let the sleeping death seep through." Now he was ready to obey her incantation. He dipped the apple in the cyanide and took several bites. At the age of just forty-two, one of the true geniuses of crypta.n.a.lysis committed suicide.

5 The Language Barrier

While British codebreakers were breaking the German Enigma cipher and altering the course of the war in Europe, American codebreakers were having an equally important influence on events in the Pacific arena by cracking the j.a.panese machine cipher known as Purple. For example, in June 1942 the Americans deciphered a message outlining a j.a.panese plan to draw U.S. Naval forces to the Aleutian Islands by faking an attack, which would allow the j.a.panese Navy to take their real objective, Midway Island. Although American ships played along with the plan by leaving Midway, they never strayed far away. When American crypta.n.a.lysts intercepted and deciphered the j.a.panese order to attack Midway, the ships were able to return swiftly and defend the island in one of the most important battles of the entire Pacific war. According to Admiral Chester Nimitz, the American victory at Midway "was essentially a victory of intelligence. In attempting surprise, the j.a.panese were themselves surprised."

Almost a year later, American crypta.n.a.lysts identified a message that showed the itinerary for a visit to the northern Solomon Islands by Admiral Isoruko Yamamoto, Commander-in-Chief of the j.a.panese Fleet. Nimitz decided to send fighter aircraft to intercept Yamamoto's plane and shoot him down. Yamamoto, renowned for being compulsively punctual, approached his destination at exactly 8:00 A.M. A.M., just as stated in the intercepted schedule. There to meet him were eighteen American P-38 fighters. They succeeded in killing one of the most influential figures of the j.a.panese High Command.

Although Purple and Enigma, the j.a.panese and German ciphers, were eventually broken, they did offer some security when they were initially implemented and provided real challenges for American and British crypta.n.a.lysts. In fact, had the cipher machines been used properly-without repeated message keys, without cillies, without restrictions on plugboard settings and scrambler arrangements, and without stereotypical messages which resulted in cribs-it is quite possible that they might never have been broken at all. crypta.n.a.lysts. In fact, had the cipher machines been used properly-without repeated message keys, without cillies, without restrictions on plugboard settings and scrambler arrangements, and without stereotypical messages which resulted in cribs-it is quite possible that they might never have been broken at all.

The true strength and potential of machine ciphers was demonstrated by the Typex (or Type X) cipher machine used by the British army and air force, and the SIGABA (or M-143-C) cipher machine used by the American military. Both these machines were more complex than the Enigma machine and both were used properly, and therefore they remained unbroken throughout the war. Allied cryptographers were confident that complicated electromechanical machine ciphers could guarantee secure communication. However, complicated machine ciphers are not the only way of sending secure messages. Indeed, one of the most secure forms of encryption used in the Second World War was also one of the simplest.

During the Pacific campaign, American commanders began to realize that cipher machines, such as SIGABA, had a fundamental drawback. Although electromechanical encryption offered relatively high levels of security, it was painfully slow. Messages had to be typed into the machine letter by letter, the output had to be noted down letter by letter, and then the completed ciphertext had to be transmitted by the radio operator. The radio operator who received the enciphered message then had to pa.s.s it on to a cipher expert, who would carefully select the correct key, and type the ciphertext into a cipher machine, to decipher it letter by letter. The time and s.p.a.ce required for this delicate operation is available at headquarters or onboard a ship, but machine encryption was not ideally suited to more hostile and intense environments, such as the islands of the Pacific. One war correspondent described the difficulties of communication during the heat of jungle battle: "When the fighting became confined to a small area, everything had to move on a split-second schedule. There was not time for enciphering and deciphering. At such times, the King's English became a last resort-the profaner the better." Unfortunately for the Americans, many j.a.panese soldiers had attended American colleges and were fluent in English, including the profanities. Valuable information about American strategy and tactics was falling into the hands of the enemy.

One of the first to react to this problem was Philip Johnston, an engineer based in Los Angeles, who was too old to fight but still wanted to contribute to the war effort. At the beginning of 1942 he began to formulate an encryption system inspired by his childhood experiences. The son of a Protestant missionary, Johnston had grown up on the Navajo reservations of Arizona, and as a result he had become fully immersed in Navajo culture. He was one of the few people outside the tribe who could speak their language fluently, which allowed him to act as an interpreter for discussions between the Navajo and government agents. His work in this capacity culminated in a visit to the White House, when, as a nine-year-old, Johnston translated for two Navajos who were appealing to President Theodore Roosevelt for fairer treatment for their community. Fully aware of how impenetrable the language was for those outside the tribe, Johnston was struck by the notion that Navajo, or any other Native American language, could act as a virtually unbreakable code. If each battalion in the Pacific employed a pair of Native Americans as radio operators, secure communication could be guaranteed.

He took his idea to Lieutenant Colonel James E. Jones, the area signal officer at Camp Elliott, just outside San Diego. Merely by throwing a few Navajo phrases at the bewildered officer, Johnston was able to persuade him that the idea was worthy of serious consideration. A fortnight later he returned with two Navajos, ready to conduct a test demonstration in front of senior marine officers. The Navajos were isolated from each other, and one was given six typical messages in English, which he translated into Navajo and transmitted to his colleague via a radio. The Navajo receiver translated the messages back into English, wrote them down, and handed them over to the officers, who compared them with the originals. The game of Navajo whispers proved to be flawless, and the marine officers authorized a pilot project and ordered recruitment to begin immediately.

Before recruiting anybody, however, Lieutenant Colonel Jones and Philip Johnston had to decide whether to conduct the pilot study with the Navajo, or select another tribe. Johnston had used Navajo men for his original demonstration because he had personal connections with the tribe, but this did not necessarily make them the ideal choice. The most important selection criterion was simply a question of numbers: the marines needed to find a tribe capable of supplying a large number of men who were fluent in English and literate. The lack of government investment meant that the literacy rate was very low on most of the reservations, and attention was therefore focused on the four largest tribes: the Navajo, the Sioux, the Chippewa and the Pima-Papago. men who were fluent in English and literate. The lack of government investment meant that the literacy rate was very low on most of the reservations, and attention was therefore focused on the four largest tribes: the Navajo, the Sioux, the Chippewa and the Pima-Papago.

The Navajo was the largest tribe, but also the least literate, while the Pima-Papago was the most literate but much fewer in number. There was little to choose between the four tribes, and ultimately the decision rested on another critical factor. According to the official report on Johnston's idea: The Navajo is the only tribe in the United States that has not been infested with German students during the past twenty years. These Germans, studying the various tribal dialects under the guise of art students, anthropologists, etc., have undoubtedly attained a good working knowledge of all tribal dialects except Navajo. For this reason the Navajo is the only tribe available offering complete security for the type of work under consideration. It should also be noted that the Navajo tribal dialect is completely unintelligible to all other tribes and all other people, with the possible exception of as many as 28 Americans who have made a study of the dialect. This dialect is equivalent to a secret code to the enemy, and admirably suited for rapid, secure communication.

At the time of America's entry into the Second World War, the Navajo were living in harsh conditions and being treated as inferior people. Yet their tribal council supported the war effort and declared their loyalty: "There exists no purer concentration of Americanism than among the First Americans." The Navajos were so eager to fight that some of them lied about their age, or gorged themselves on bunches of bananas and swallowed great quant.i.ties of water in order to reach the minimum weight requirement of 55 kg. Similarly, there was no difficulty in finding suitable candidates to serve as Navajo code talkers, as they were to become known. Within four months of the bombing of Pearl Harbor, 29 Navajos, some as young as fifteen, began an eight-week communications course with the Marine Corps.

Before training could begin, the Marine Corps had to overcome a problem that had plagued the only other code to have been based on a Native American language. In Northern France during the First World War, Captain E.W. Horner of Company D, 141st Infantry, ordered that eight men from the Choctaw tribe be employed as radio operators. Obviously none of the enemy understood their language, so the Choctaw provided secure communications. However, this encryption system was fundamentally flawed because the Choctaw language had no equivalent for modern military jargon. A specific technical term in a message might therefore have to be translated into a vague Choctaw expression, with the risk that this could be misinterpreted by the receiver. none of the enemy understood their language, so the Choctaw provided secure communications. However, this encryption system was fundamentally flawed because the Choctaw language had no equivalent for modern military jargon. A specific technical term in a message might therefore have to be translated into a vague Choctaw expression, with the risk that this could be misinterpreted by the receiver.

The same problem would have arisen with the Navajo language, but the Marine Corps planned to construct a lexicon of Navajo terms to replace otherwise untranslatable English words, thus removing any ambiguities. The trainees helped to compile the lexicon, tending to choose words describing the natural world to indicate specific military terms. Thus, the names of birds were used for planes, and fish for ships (Table 11). Commanding officers became "war chiefs," platoons were "mud-clans," fortifications turned into "cave dwellings" and mortars were known as "guns that squat."

Even though the complete lexicon contained 274 words, there was still the problem of translating less predictable words and the names of people and places. The solution was to devise an encoded phonetic alphabet for spelling out difficult words. For example, the word "Pacific" would be spelled out as "pig, ant, cat, ice, fox, ice, cat," which would then be translated into Navajo as bi-sodih, wol-la-chee, moasi, tkin, ma-e, tkin, moasi. The complete Navajo alphabet is given in Table 12 Table 12. Within eight weeks, the trainee code talkers had learned the entire lexicon and alphabet, thus obviating the need for codebooks which might fall into enemy hands. For the Navajos, committing everything to memory was trivial because traditionally their language had no written script, so they were used to memorizing their folk stories and family histories. As William McCabe, one of the trainees, said, "In Navajo everything is in the memory-songs, prayers, everything. That's the way we were raised." thus obviating the need for codebooks which might fall into enemy hands. For the Navajos, committing everything to memory was trivial because traditionally their language had no written script, so they were used to memorizing their folk stories and family histories. As William McCabe, one of the trainees, said, "In Navajo everything is in the memory-songs, prayers, everything. That's the way we were raised."

Table 11 Navajo codewords for planes and ships. Navajo codewords for planes and ships.

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At the end of their training, the Navajos were put to the test. Senders translated a series of messages from English into Navajo, transmitted them, and then receivers translated the messages back into English, using the memorized lexicon and alphabet when necessary. The results were word-perfect. To check the strength of the system, a recording of the transmissions was given to Navy Intelligence, the unit that had cracked Purple, the toughest j.a.panese cipher. After three weeks of intense crypta.n.a.lysis, the Naval codebreakers were still baffled by the messages. They called the Navajo language a "weird succession of guttural, nasal, tongue-twisting sounds...we couldn't even transcribe it, much less crack it." The Navajo code was judged a success. Two Navajo soldiers, John Benally and Johnny Manuelito, were asked to stay and train the next batch of recruits, while the other 27 Navajo code talkers were a.s.signed to four regiments and sent to the Pacific.

Table 12 The Navajo alphabet code. The Navajo alphabet code.

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j.a.panese forces had attacked Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941, and not long after they dominated large parts of the western Pacific. j.a.panese troops overran the American garrison on Guam on December 10, they took Guadalca.n.a.l, one of the islands in the Solomon chain, on December 13, Hong Kong capitulated on December 25, and U.S. troops on the Philippines surrendered on January 2, 1942. The j.a.panese planned to consolidate their control of the Pacific the following summer by building an airfield on Guadalca.n.a.l, creating a base for bombers which would enable them to destroy Allied supply lines, thus making any Allied counterattack almost impossible. Admiral Ernest King, Chief of American Naval Operations, urged an attack on the island before the airfield was completed, and on August 7, the 1st Marine Division spearheaded an invasion of Guadalca.n.a.l. The initial landing parties included the first group of code talkers to see action.

Although the Navajos were confident that their skills would be a blessing to the marines, their first attempts generated only confusion. Many of the regular signal operators were unaware of this new code, and they sent panic messages all over the island, stating that the j.a.panese were broadcasting on American frequencies. The colonel in charge immediately halted Navajo communications until he could convince himself that the system was worth pursuing. One of the code talkers recalled how the Navajo code was eventually brought back into service: the regular signal operators were unaware of this new code, and they sent panic messages all over the island, stating that the j.a.panese were broadcasting on American frequencies. The colonel in charge immediately halted Navajo communications until he could convince himself that the system was worth pursuing. One of the code talkers recalled how the Navajo code was eventually brought back into service: [image]

Figure 52 The first 29 Navajo code talkers pose for a traditional graduation photograph. ( The first 29 Navajo code talkers pose for a traditional graduation photograph. (photo credit 5.1) The colonel had an idea. He said he would keep us on one condition: that I could outrace his "white code"-a mechanical ticking cylinder thing. We both sent messages, by white cylinder and by my voice. Both of us received answers and the race was to see who could decode his answer first. I was asked, "How long will it take you? Two hours?" "More like two minutes," I answered. The other guy was still decoding when I got the roger on my return message in about four and a half minutes. I said, "Colonel, when are you going to give up on that cylinder thing?" He didn't say anything. He just lit up his pipe and walked away.

The code talkers soon proved their worth on the battlefield. During one episode on the island of Saipan, a battalion of marines took over positions previously held by j.a.panese soldiers, who had retreated. Suddenly a salvo exploded nearby. They were under friendly fire from fellow Americans who were unaware of their advance. The marines radioed back in English explaining their position, but the salvos continued because the attacking American troops suspected that the messages were from j.a.panese impersonators trying to fool them. It was only when a Navajo message was sent that the attackers saw their mistake and halted the a.s.sault. A Navajo message could never be faked, and could always be trusted.

The reputation of the code talkers soon spread, and by the end of 1942 there was a request for 83 more men. The Navajo were to serve in all six Marine Corps divisions, and were sometimes borrowed by other American forces. Their war of words soon turned the Navajos into heroes. Other soldiers would offer to carry their radios and rifles, and they were even given personal bodyguards, partly to protect them from their own comrades. On at least three occasions code talkers were mistaken for j.a.panese soldiers and captured by fellow Americans. They were released only when colleagues from their own battalion vouched for them.

The impenetrability of the Navajo code was all down to the fact that Navajo belongs to the Na-Dene family of languages, which has no link with any Asian or European language. For example, a Navajo verb is conjugated not solely according to its subject, but also according to its object. The verb ending depends on which category the object belongs to: long (e.g., pipe, pencil), slender and flexible (e.g., snake, thong), granular (e.g., sugar, salt), bundled (e.g., hay), viscous (e.g., mud, feces) and many others. The verb will also incorporate adverbs, and will reflect whether or not the speaker has experienced what he or she is talking about, or whether it is hearsay. Consequently, a single verb can be equivalent to a whole sentence, making it virtually impossible for foreigners to disentangle its meaning.

Despite its strengths, the Navajo code still suffered from two significant flaws. First, words that were neither in the natural Navajo vocabulary nor in the list of 274 authorized codewords had to be spelled out using the special alphabet. This was time-consuming, so it was decided to add another 234 common terms to the lexicon. For example, nations were given Navajo nicknames: "Rolled Hat" for Australia, "Bounded by Water" for Britain, "Braided Hair" for China, "Iron Hat" for Germany, "Floating Land" for the Philippines, and "Sheep Pain" for Spain.

The second problem concerned those words that would still have to be spelled out. If it became clear to the j.a.panese that words were being spelled out, they would realize that they could use frequency a.n.a.lysis to identify which Navajo words represented which letters. It would soon become obvious that the most commonly used word was dzeh, which means "elk" and which represents e, the most commonly used letter of the English alphabet. Just spelling out the name of the island Guadalca.n.a.l and repeating the word wol-la-chee (ant) four times would be a big clue as to what word represented the letter a. The solution was to add more words to act as extra subst.i.tutes (h.o.m.ophones) for the commonly used letters. Two extra words were introduced as alternatives for each of the six commonest letters (e, t, a, o, i, n), and one extra word for the six next commonest letters (s, h, r, d, l, u). The letter a, for example, could now also be subst.i.tuted by the words be-la-sana (apple) or tse-nihl (axe). Thereafter, Guadalca.n.a.l could be spelled with only one repet.i.tion: klizzie, shi-da, wol-la-chee, lha-cha-eh, be-la-sana, dibeh-yazzie, moasi, tse-nihl, nesh-chee, tse-nihl, ah-jad (goat, uncle, ant, dog, apple, lamb, cat, axe, nut, axe, leg). moasi, tse-nihl, nesh-chee, tse-nihl, ah-jad (goat, uncle, ant, dog, apple, lamb, cat, axe, nut, axe, leg).

As the war in the Pacific intensified, and as the Americans advanced from the Solomon Islands to Okinawa, the Navajo code talkers played an increasingly vital role. During the first days of the attack on Iwo Jima, more than eight hundred Navajo messages were sent, all without error. According to Major General Howard Conner, "without the Navajos, the marines would never have taken Iwo Jima." The contribution of the Navajo code talkers is all the more remarkable when you consider that, in order to fulfill their duties, they often had to confront and defy their own deeply held spiritual fears. The Navajo believe that the spirits of the dead, chindi chindi, will seek revenge on the living unless ceremonial rites are performed on the body. The war in the Pacific was particularly b.l.o.o.d.y, with corpses strewn across the battlefields, and yet the code talkers summoned up the courage to carry on regardless of the corpses strewn across the battlefields, and yet the code talkers summoned up the courage to carry on regardless of the chindi chindi that haunted them. In Doris Paul's book that haunted them. In Doris Paul's book The Navajo Code Talkers The Navajo Code Talkers, one of the Navajo recounts an incident which typifies their bravery, dedication and composure: [image]

Figure 53 Corporal Henry Bake, Jr. (left) and Private First Cla.s.s George H. Kirk using the Navajo code in the dense jungles of Bougainville in 1943. Corporal Henry Bake, Jr. (left) and Private First Cla.s.s George H. Kirk using the Navajo code in the dense jungles of Bougainville in 1943.

If you so much as held up your head six inches you were gone, the fire was so intense. And then in the wee hours, with no relief on our side or theirs, there was a dead standstill. It must have gotten so that this one j.a.panese couldn't take it anymore. He got up and yelled and screamed at the top of his voice and dashed over our trench, swinging a long samurai sword. I imagine he was shot from 25 to 40 times before he fell.

There was a buddy with me in the trench. But that j.a.panese had cut him across the throat, clear through to the cords on the back of his neck. He was still gasping through his windpipe. And the sound of him trying to breathe was horrible. He died, of course. When the j.a.p struck, warm blood spattered all over my hand that was holding a microphone. I was calling in code for help. They tell me that in spite of what happened, every syllable of my message came through.

Altogether, there were 420 Navajo code talkers. Although their bravery as fighting men was acknowledged, their special role in securing communications was cla.s.sified information. The government forbade them to talk about their work, and their unique contribution was not made public. Just like Turing and the crypta.n.a.lysts at Bletchley Park, the Navajo were ignored for decades. Eventually, in 1968, the Navajo code was decla.s.sified, and the following year the code talkers held their first reunion. Then, in 1982, they were honored when the U.S. Government named August 14 "National Navajo Code Talkers Day." However, the greatest tribute to the work of the Navajo is the simple fact that their code is one of very few throughout history that was never broken. Lieutenant General Seizo Arisue, the j.a.panese chief of intelligence, admitted that, although they had broken the American Air Force code, they had failed to make any impact on the Navajo code.

Deciphering Lost Languages and Ancient Scripts The success of the Navajo code was based largely on the simple fact that the mother tongue of one person is utterly meaningless to anybody unacquainted with it. In many ways, the task that confronted j.a.panese crypta.n.a.lysts is similar to that which is faced by archaeologists attempting to decipher a long-forgotten language, perhaps written in an extinct script. If anything, the archaeological challenge is much more severe. For example, while the j.a.panese had a continuous stream of Navajo words which they could attempt to identify, the information available to the archaeologist can sometimes be just a small collection of clay tablets. Furthermore, the archaeological codebreaker often has no idea of the context or contents of an ancient text, clues which military codebreakers can normally rely on to help them crack a cipher. crypta.n.a.lysts is similar to that which is faced by archaeologists attempting to decipher a long-forgotten language, perhaps written in an extinct script. If anything, the archaeological challenge is much more severe. For example, while the j.a.panese had a continuous stream of Navajo words which they could attempt to identify, the information available to the archaeologist can sometimes be just a small collection of clay tablets. Furthermore, the archaeological codebreaker often has no idea of the context or contents of an ancient text, clues which military codebreakers can normally rely on to help them crack a cipher.

Deciphering ancient texts seems an almost hopeless pursuit, yet many men and women have devoted themselves to this arduous enterprise. Their obsession is driven by the desire to understand the writings of our ancestors, allowing us to speak their words and catch a glimpse of their thoughts and lives. Perhaps this appet.i.te for cracking ancient scripts is best summarized by Maurice Pope, the author of The Story of Decipherment: The Story of Decipherment: "Decipherments are by far the most glamorous achievements of scholarship. There is a touch of magic about unknown writing, especially when it comes from the remote past, and a corresponding glory is bound to attach itself to the person who first solves its mystery." "Decipherments are by far the most glamorous achievements of scholarship. There is a touch of magic about unknown writing, especially when it comes from the remote past, and a corresponding glory is bound to attach itself to the person who first solves its mystery."

The decipherment of ancient scripts is not part of the ongoing evolutionary battle between codemakers and codebreakers, because, although there are codebreakers in the shape of archaeologists, there are no codemakers. That is to say, in most cases of archaeological decipherment there was no deliberate attempt by the original scribe to hide the meaning of the text. The remainder of this chapter, which is a discussion of archaeological decipherments, is therefore a slight detour from the book's main theme. However, the principles of archaeological decipherment are essentially the same as those of conventional military crypta.n.a.lysis. Indeed, many military codebreakers have been attracted by the challenge of unraveling an ancient script. This is probably because archaeological decipherments make a refreshing change from military codebreaking, offering a purely intellectual puzzle rather than a military challenge. In other words, the motivation is curiosity rather than animosity.

The most famous, and arguably the most romantic, of all decipherments was the cracking of Egyptian hieroglyphics. For centuries, hieroglyphics remained a mystery, and archaeologists could do no more than speculate about their meaning. However, thanks to a cla.s.sic piece of codebreaking, the hieroglyphs were eventually deciphered, and ever since archaeologists have been able to read firsthand accounts of the history, culture and beliefs of the ancient Egyptians. The decipherment of hieroglyphics has bridged the millennia between ourselves and the civilization of the pharaohs. remained a mystery, and archaeologists could do no more than speculate about their meaning. However, thanks to a cla.s.sic piece of codebreaking, the hieroglyphs were eventually deciphered, and ever since archaeologists have been able to read firsthand accounts of the history, culture and beliefs of the ancient Egyptians. The decipherment of hieroglyphics has bridged the millennia between ourselves and the civilization of the pharaohs.

The earliest hieroglyphics date back to 3000 B.C. B.C., and this form of ornate writing endured for the next three and a half thousand years. Although the elaborate symbols of hieroglyphics were ideal for the walls of majestic temples (the Greek word hieroglyphica hieroglyphica means "sacred carvings"), they were overly complicated for keeping track of mundane transactions. Hence, evolving in parallel with hieroglyphics was means "sacred carvings"), they were overly complicated for keeping track of mundane transactions. Hence, evolving in parallel with hieroglyphics was hieratic hieratic, an everyday script in which each hieroglyphic symbol was replaced by a stylized representation which was quicker and easier to write. In about 600 B.C. B.C., hieratic was replaced by an even simpler script known as demotic demotic, the name being derived from the Greek demotika demotika meaning "popular," which reflects its secular function. Hieroglyphics, hieratic and demotic are essentially the same script-one could almost regard them as merely different fonts. meaning "popular," which reflects its secular function. Hieroglyphics, hieratic and demotic are essentially the same script-one could almost regard them as merely different fonts.

All three forms of writing are phonetic, which is to say that the characters largely represent distinct sounds, just like the letters in the English alphabet. For over three thousand years the ancient Egyptians used these scripts in every aspect of their lives, just as we use writing today. Then, toward the end of the fourth century A.D A.D., within a generation, the Egyptian scripts vanished. The last datable examples of ancient Egyptian writing are to be found on the island of Philae. A hieroglyphic temple inscription was carved in A.D A.D. 394, and a piece of demotic graffiti has been dated to A.D A.D. 450. The spread of the Christian Church was responsible for the extinction of the Egyptian scripts, outlawing their use in order to eradicate any link with Egypt's pagan past. The ancient scripts were replaced with Coptic, a script consisting of 24 letters from the Greek alphabet supplemented by six demotic characters used for Egyptian sounds not expressed in Greek. The dominance of Coptic was so complete that the ability to read hieroglyphics, demotic and hieratic vanished. The ancient Egyptian language continued to be spoken, and evolved into what became known as the Coptic language, but in due course both the Coptic language and script were displaced by the spread of Arabic in the eleventh century. The final linguistic link to Egypt's ancient kingdoms had been broken, and the knowledge needed to read the tales of the pharaohs was lost. final linguistic link to Egypt's ancient kingdoms had been broken, and the knowledge needed to read the tales of the pharaohs was lost.

Interest in hieroglyphics was reawakened in the seventeenth century, when Pope Sixtus V reorganized the city of Rome according to a new network of avenues, erecting obelisks brought from Egypt at each intersection. Scholars attempted to decipher the meanings of the hieroglyphs on the obelisks, but were hindered by a false a.s.sumption: n.o.body was prepared to accept that the hieroglyphs could possibly represent phonetic characters, or phonograms phonograms. The idea of phonetic spelling was thought to be too advanced for such an ancient civilization. Instead, seventeenth-century scholars were convinced that the hieroglyphs were semagrams semagrams-that these intricate characters represented whole ideas, and were nothing more than primitive picture writing. The belief that hieroglyphics is merely picture writing was even commonly held by foreigners who visited Egypt while hieroglyphics was still a living script. Diodorus Siculus, a Greek historian of the first century B.C. B.C., wrote: Now it happens that the forms of the Egyptians' letters take the shape of all kinds of living creatures and of the extremities of the human body and of implements...For their writing does not express the intended idea by a combination of syllables, one with another, but by the outward appearance of what has been copied and by the metaphorical meaning impressed upon the memory by practice.... So the hawk symbolizes for them everything which happens quickly because this creature is just about the fastest of winged animals. And the idea is transferred, through the appropriate metaphorical transfer, to all swift things and to those things to which speed is appropriate.

In the light of such accounts, perhaps it is not so surprising that seventeenth-century scholars attempted to decipher the hieroglyphs by interpreting each one as a whole idea. For example, in 1652 the German Jesuit priest Athanasius Kircher published a dictionary of allegorical interpretations ent.i.tled dipus gyptiacus dipus gyptiacus, and used it to produce a series of weird and wonderful translations. A handful of hieroglyphs, which we now know merely represent the name of the pharaoh Apries, were translated by Kircher as: "the benefits of the divine Osiris are to be procured by means of sacred ceremonies and of the chain of the Genii, in order that the benefits of the Nile may be obtained." Today Kircher's translations seem ludicrous, but their impact on other would-be decipherers was immense. Kircher was more than just an Egyptologist: he wrote a book on cryptography, constructed a musical fountain, invented the magic lantern (a precursor of cinema), and lowered himself into the crater of Vesuvius, earning himself the t.i.tle of "father of vulcanology." The Jesuit priest was widely acknowledged to be the most respected scholar of his age, and consequently his ideas were to influence generations of future Egyptologists. but their impact on other would-be decipherers was immense. Kircher was more than just an Egyptologist: he wrote a book on cryptography, constructed a musical fountain, invented the magic lantern (a precursor of cinema), and lowered himself into the crater of Vesuvius, earning himself the t.i.tle of "father of vulcanology." The Jesuit priest was widely acknowledged to be the most respected scholar of his age, and consequently his ideas were to influence generations of future Egyptologists.

A century and a half after Kircher, in the summer of 1798, the antiquities of ancient Egypt fell under renewed scrutiny when Napoleon Bonaparte dispatched a team of historians, scientists and draftsmen to follow in the wake of his invading army. These academics, or "Pekinese dogs" as the soldiers called them, did a remarkable job of mapping, drawing, transcribing, measuring and recording everything they witnessed. In 1799, the French scholars encountered the single most famous slab of stone in the history of archaeology, found by a troop of French soldiers stationed at Fort Julien in the town of Rosetta in the Nile Delta. The soldiers had been given the task of demolishing an ancient wall to clear the way for an extension to the fort. Built into the wall was a stone bearing a remarkable set of inscriptions: the same piece of text had been inscribed on the stone three times, in Greek, demotic and hieroglyphics. The Rosetta Stone, as it became known, appeared to be the equivalent of a crypta.n.a.lytic crib, just like the cribs that helped the codebreakers at Bletchley Park to break into Enigma. The Greek, which could easily be read, was in effect a piece of plaintext which could be compared with the demotic and hieroglyphic ciphertexts. The Rosetta Stone was potentially a means of unraveling the meaning of the ancient Egyptian symbols.

The scholars immediately recognized the stone's significance, and sent it to the National Inst.i.tute in Cairo for detailed study. However, before the inst.i.tute could embark on any serious research, it became clear that the French army was on the verge of being defeated by the advancing British forces. The French moved the Rosetta Stone from Cairo to the relative safety of Alexandria, but ironically, when the French finally surrendered, Article XVI of the Treaty of Capitulation handed all the antiquities in Alexandria to the British, whereas those in Cairo were allowed to return to France. In 1802, the priceless slab of black basalt (measuring 118 cm in height, 77 cm in width and 30 cm in thickness, and weighing three-quarters of a ton) was sent to Portsmouth onboard HMS of a ton) was sent to Portsmouth onboard HMS L'Egyptienne L'Egyptienne, and later that year it took up residence at the British Museum, where it has remained ever since.

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Figure 54 The Rosetta Stone, inscribed in 196 The Rosetta Stone, inscribed in 196 B.C B.C. and rediscovered in 1799, contains the same text written in three different scripts: hieroglyphics at the top, demotic in the middle and Greek at the bottom. (photo credit 5.2) The translation of the Greek soon revealed that the Rosetta Stone bore a decree from the general council of Egyptian priests issued in 196 B.C B.C. The text records the benefits that the Pharaoh Ptolemy had bestowed upon the people of Egypt, and details the honors that the priests had, in return, piled upon the pharaoh. For example, they declared that "a festival shall be kept for King Ptolemy, the ever-living, the beloved of Ptah, the G.o.d Epiphanes Eucharistos, yearly in the temples throughout the land from the 1st of Troth for five days, in which they shall wear garlands and perform sacrifices and libations and the other usual honors." If the other two inscriptions contained the identical decree, the decipherment of the hieroglyphic and demotic texts would seem to be straightforward. However, three significant hurdles remained. First, the Rosetta Stone is seriously damaged, as can be seen in Figure 54 Figure 54. The Greek text consists of 54 lines, of which the last 26 are damaged. The demotic consists of 32 lines, of which the beginnings of the first 14 lines are damaged (note that demotic and hieroglyphics are written from right to left). The hieroglyphic text is in the worst condition, with half the lines missing completely, and the remaining 14 lines (corresponding to the last 28 lines of the Greek text) partly missing. The second barrier to decipherment is that the two Egyptian scripts convey the ancient Egyptian language, which n.o.body had spoken for at least eight centuries. While it was possible to find a set of Egyptian symbols which corresponded to a set of Greek words, which would enable archaeologists to work out the meaning of the Egyptian symbols, it was impossible to establish the sound of the Egyptian words. Unless archaeologists knew how the Egyptian words were spoken, they could not deduce the phonetics of the symbols. Finally, the intellectual legacy of Kircher still encouraged archaeologists to think of Egyptian writing in terms of semagrams, rather than phonograms, and hence few people even considered attempting a phonetic decipherment of hieroglyphics.

One of the first scholars to question the prejudice that hieroglyphics was picture writing was the English prodigy and polymath Thomas Young. Born in 1773 in Milverton, Somerset, Young was able to read fluently at the age of two. By the age of fourteen he had studied Greek, Latin, French, Italian, Hebrew, Chaldean, Syriac, Samaritan, Arabic, Persian, Turkish and Ethiopic, and when he became a student at Emmanuel College, Cambridge, his brilliance gained him the sobriquet "Phenomenon Young." At Cambridge he studied medicine, but it was said that he was interested only in the diseases, not the patients who had them. Gradually he began to concentrate more on research and less on caring for the sick. Italian, Hebrew, Chaldean, Syriac, Samaritan, Arabic, Persian, Turkish and Ethiopic, and when he became a student at Emmanuel College, Cambridge, his brilliance gained him the sobriquet "Phenomenon Young." At Cambridge he studied medicine, but it was said that he was interested only in the diseases, not the patients who had them. Gradually he began to concentrate more on research and less on caring for the sick.

Young performed an extraordinary series of medical experiments, many of them with the object of explaining how the human eye works. He established that color perception is the result of three separate types of receptors, each one sensitive to one of the three primary colors. Then, by placing metal rings around a living eyeball, he showed that focusing did not require distortion of the whole eye, and postulated that the internal lens did all the work. His interest in optics led him toward physics, and another series of discoveries. He published "The Undulatory Theory of Light," a cla.s.sic paper on the nature of light; he created a new and better explanation of tides; he formally defined the concept of energy and he published groundbreaking papers on the subject of elasticity. Young seemed to be able to tackle problems in almost any subject, but this was not entirely to his advantage. His mind was so easily fascinated that he would leap from subject to subject, embarking on a new problem before polishing off the last one. placing metal rings around a living eyeball, he showed that focusing did not require distortion of the whole eye, and postulated that the internal lens did all the work. His interest in optics led him toward physics, and another series of discoveries. He published "The Undulatory Theory of Light," a cla.s.sic paper on the nature of light; he created a new and better explanation of tides; he formally defined the concept of energy and he published groundbreaking papers on the subject of elasticity. Young seemed to be able to tackle problems in almost any subject, but this was not entirely to his advantage. His mind was so easily fascinated that he would leap from subject to subject, embarking on a new problem before polishing off the last one.

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Figure 55 Thomas Young. Thomas Young.

When Young heard about the Rosetta Stone, it became an irresistible challenge. In the summer of 1814 he set off on his annual holiday to the coastal resort of Worthing, taking with him a copy of the three inscriptions. Young's breakthrough came when he focused on a set of hieroglyphs surrounded by a loop, called a cartouche cartouche. His hunch was that these hieroglyphs were ringed because they represented something of great significance, possibly the name of the Pharaoh Ptolemy, because his Greek name, Ptolemaios, was mentioned in the Greek text. If this were the case, it would enable Young to discover the phonetics of the corresponding hieroglyphs, because a pharaoh's name would be p.r.o.nounced roughly the same regardless of the language. The Ptolemy cartouche is repeated six times on the Rosetta Stone, sometimes in a so-called standard version, and sometimes in a longer, more elaborate version. Young a.s.sumed that the longer version was the name of Ptolemy with the addition of t.i.tles, so he concentrated on the symbols that appeared in the standard version, guessing sound values for each hieroglyph ( the longer version was the name of Ptolemy with the addition of t.i.tles, so he concentrated on the symbols that appeared in the standard version, guessing sound values for each hieroglyph (Table 13).

Table 13 Young's decipherment of Young's decipherment of[image] the cartouche of Ptolemaios (standard version) from the Rosetta Stone. the cartouche of Ptolemaios (standard version) from the Rosetta Stone.

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Although he did not know it at the time, Young managed to correlate most of the hieroglyphs with their correct sound values. Fortunately, he had placed the first two hieroglyphs ([image]), which appeared one above the other, in their correct phonetic order. The scribe has positioned the hieroglyphs in this way for aesthetic reasons, at the expense of phonetic clarity. Scribes tended to write in such a way as to avoid gaps and maintain visual harmony; sometimes they would even swap letters around in direct contradiction to any sensible phonetic spelling, merely to increase the beauty of an inscription. After this decipherment, Young discovered a cartouche in an inscription copied from the temple of Karnak at Thebes which he suspected was the name of a Ptolemaic queen, Berenika (or Berenice). He repeated his strategy; the results are shown in Table 14 Table 14.

Of the thirteen hieroglyphs in both cartouches, Young had identified half of them perfectly, and he got another quarter partly right. He had also correctly identified the feminine termination symbol, placed after the names of queens and G.o.ddesses. Although he could not have known the level of his success, the appearance of[image] in both cartouches, representing i on both occasions, should have told Young that he was on the right track, and given him the confidence he needed to press ahead with further decipherments. However, his work suddenly ground to a halt. It in both cartouches, representing i on both occasions, should have told Young that he was on the right track, and given him the confidence he needed to press ahead with further decipherments. However, his work suddenly ground to a halt. It seems that he had too much reverence for Kircher's argument that hieroglyphs were semagrams, and he was not prepared to shatter that paradigm. He excused his own phonetic discoveries by noting that the Ptolemaic dynasty was descended from Lagus, a general of Alexander the Great. In other words, the Ptolemys were foreigners, and Young hypothesized that their names would have to be spelled out phonetically because there would not be a single natural semagram within the standard list of hieroglyphs. He summarized his thoughts by comparing hieroglyphs with Chinese characters, which Europeans were only just beginning to understand: seems that he had too much reverence for Kircher's argument that hieroglyphs were semagrams, and he was not prepared to shatter that paradigm. He excused his own phonetic discoveries by noting that the Ptolemaic dynasty was descended from Lagus, a general of Alexander the Great. In other words, the Ptolemys were foreigners, and Young hypothesized that their names would have to be spelled out phonetically because there would not be a single natural semagram within the standard list of hieroglyphs. He summarized his thoughts by comparing hieroglyphs with Chinese characters, which Europeans were only just beginning to understand: Table 14 Young's decipherment of Young's decipherment of[image] , the cartouche of Berenika from the temple of Karnak. , the cartouche of Berenika from the temple of Karnak.

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It is extremely interesting to trace some of the steps by which alphabetic writing seems to have arisen out of hieroglyphical; a process which may indeed be in some measure ill.u.s.trated by the manner in which the modern Chinese express a foreign combination of sounds, the characters being rendered simply "phonetic" by an appropriate mark, instead of retaining their natural