Vader's Pinch of Faith
Darth Vader as an Icon through which we see the eternal conflict between machine and man, technocracy and faith
Mere minutes into Star Wars: A New Hope, we are introduced to the great arch villain of all time. Darth Vader is iconic, in the way we use that term, but I want to suggest that he is iconic in the more ancient way we mean that term.
He is an icon through which we apprehend both the conflict of the arch plot, and also the deep, inner thematic conflict of the whole world. He is the problem, at least for the Rebels, and his actions drive the obvious externalities and plot points. He hunts.
But his origins and destiny inform the underneath. It is through him that we see the most important things. His hybrid existence—half man, half machine—sets up the larger thematic conflict of the intermingling of good and evil, spirituality and technocracy, determinism and free will.
The dark father motif is the thread by which the original trilogy is stitched together. Later on in Return of the Jedi, Luke insists that “I still sense good in him.” I remember rolling my 10-year-old eyes back in the summer of ‘83. I did not see it. I wanted Luke to stop that evil menace because he scared me to my bones. I wanted the Rebels to win. They were the underdogs, the good guys, and the Empire were the baddies. Vader was the baddest of the baddies.
What strikes me about him now, when I sit down to watch the movies with my own young son, is rather different. Though Vader has leagued with the Empire and has delivered the Emperor victory upon victory, he is not like the green-clad men around that table in the Death Star. They are goons. He sees more.
Vader has his own “uniform” and clearly has his own code. The guys in green have constructed a mechanical masterpiece, a mcguffin to rule all mcguffins. A true doomsday device. As someone who has done some screenwriting I marvel at the straightforward and effective screenplay Lucas originally devised. There is a thin line between archetype and stereotype. But it works.
The device really is the proverbial gamechanger in which the Empire can eliminate all further resistance and “rule the galaxy.” But Vader is not so sure. We have already seen him in action, and though we are scared of him, he is competent. We oddly trust him.
Vader’s power and force are on full display mere minutes into the picture, when he emerges from the smoke of the blasted hull and marches in. You see a competent and ruthlessly efficient enterprise. Even the optics tell the story to a 10-year-old: the bad guys are cool looking and in charge, the rebels have dorky helmets and outfits, have dorkier robots (droids), and are no match. Before you even really know what is going on in terms of plot, you know through images a deep and complicated truth: evil has pomp, evil has a coolness to it, evil is attractive. Vader has lifted the poor slob off the ground, chocking him for information, unafraid to kill to get what he wants. He is mission driven.
Impressive. Most impressive.
We next “see” Vader not in action but by way of infamy: we hear about him through the mysterious Obi Wan, and his “white lie” to Luke. Vader, he tells the credulous Luke, betrayed and murdered his father, a Jedi Knight. We know that guy. We’ve seen that guy. The mythos of Vader broadens. Not only is he currently bent on crushing the rebellion, he can do more than pick on guys with blasters. He will stop at nothing to get what he wants.
Our next taste of Vader is the great scene in the Death Star conference table. Obi wan has revealed that not only is he a formidable and ruthless villain, but he is a knight of some sort, but a knight who flipped. Knights are no mere warriors; they are motivated by a code and a spirit. Vader was once part of the rebellion. What happened? Mysteries abound and his mythos grows. Around the conference table the leadership are talking politics, the imperial senate, and the Rebel’s theft of the plans. Significantly, the Death Star is not quite completed. Without it, the officer says, they remain vulnerable. Vader is confident that they will regain the stolen plans. But then the boast that sets Vader off. General Motti proudly claims: “this station is now the ultimate power in the universe.”
You can feel the tension shift. Vader senses a much more dangerous and offensive concern: the hubris and arrogance of the technocrat. These guys think they are powerful because they have a big gun. Vader knows the lie.
Vader, no longer focused on those pesky rebels and their pesky theft, shifts to address this impious and cynical claim. “Don’t be too proud of this technological terror you’ve constructed. The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant next to the power of the force.”
Two bombs dropped: the Death Star can destroy planets—that is huge—and this magic thing Vader has and Obi Wan has is more powerful. What is this force that is more powerful than a planet destroyer?
But Motti is not having it.
“Don't try to frighten us with your sorcerer's ways, Lord Vader. Your devotion to that ancient religion has not helped you conjure up the stolen data tapes, or given you clairvoyance enough to find the Rebel's hidden...”
Ack.
Vader brings the pinch, and he offers a masterclass demonstration on knowing what you know, and the prudence of epistemic humility. Note the sneering dismissals of this “ancient religion” which sounds eerily familiar to contemporary audiences. Religion is for fools and olds. Not young, sophisticated, powerful get-it-done techno-military types. Faith is for fools. Besides, the sneer continues, your “magic” has not assisted you in getting back those plans. In other words, your mumbo-jumbo is fake. It does not work. It cannot conjure, it cannot see in extrasensory ways. It cannot keep rebel planets in line.
Vader says nothing. He merely reaches out. He pinches the air. He can choke the jerk from afar. And just before Motti succumbs, he releases him.
“I find your lack of faith disturbing.”
And so do we all.
Even Vader is a man of faith. I was not ready for this complication. But who better to know. As Obi Wan says much later, Vader is “more machine now than man. Twisted and evil.” He’s a technological marvel, held together by mechanical arms and legs, and a lung that always seems a bit taxed. And yet, he is a devotee of some ancient spiritual discipline, one that grants him powers beyond these technological marvels. There is a rival force—The force, and Vader just can’t quit it. Despite being part machine, the machine part is irrelevant in the context of spirit.
So Vader, product of the machine and product of the spirit, knows of what he speaks. Spirit trumps machine, and thus he knows the Rebels have a chance. What they lack in military materiel, they make up in belief. Though he is far gone, he knows that the machine has limits. It may grant powers, but it lacks the most vital thing. It is not the machines that keep him alive that have afforded him his mastery. It is the tortured relationship to his now lost religion that gives him his power. Beyond questions of the Empire and the Rebellion, they stand for rival forces: the myth of technocratic control and the myth of autonomy and freedom: the myth of the machine and the myth of the the spirit. At its heart, Star Wars is fundamentally a religious story. Beyond the cool ships and weapons, beyond the technological nightmares and weaponry lies a spiritual reality. Underneath the action of the plot between guys with blasters, between X-wing fighters and Tie-fighters, is something much more compelling and meaningful. The blending of these two realms excites the imagination and inflames the intuition. We know that we are more than flesh droids. And this is what Vader must come to accept. It was not too late for him, in the end. The machine can control but it cannot grant meaning or purpose. Luke’s belief saves.
All in on your journey through nostalgia, Stranger Things, Vader, and Conrad. Former longtime high school English teacher who has been a Ed prof teaching kids how to teach English and History in a very secular arena. It’s lonely but worthwhile work. I think the trip through the 80s is key due to the refinement culture we have been living in the past 20 years or so—everything looks and sounds the same. I’m 56 now and when I look at photos from 20 years ago, I don’t have grey hair but I’m dressed exactly the same. I think the 80s nostalgia trip shocks us out of the the flattened world we are now stuck in. I look forward to following you as you expertly uncover this! Thanks!
Your description reminds me of Paul's distinction between living a life in Flesh (materialism) and Spirit (faith, which enables one to see in a completely different way). And just as there are dark principalities in the spiritual world, so is there a dark side to the force in Star Wars: evil can align with higher evil, therefore preserving a certain degree of insight, although it is always limited by wishful thinking. That's how the imperator falls: he is just too sure that he is so powerful that he can control the situation; he's unable to see the power of the human spirit, the power of redemption.