The Personal is Political…and Intergalactic

 
Image Credit: Wikipedia

Image Credit: Wikipedia

 

Introduction

The Star Wars universe holds a grip over our own cultural universe. (Perhaps you’ve noticed the five new, blockbuster films and the recent Disney+ TV series released in the last five years.) As a result, social conventions of the fictional galaxy reflect the political issues at stake in our own world, particularly in the United States. Thinking critically about the franchise reveals the in(sidious) ways in which racialized patriarchal norms worm their way into the manifestations of our imagination.

We––Alex and guest blogger/friend Shiv––are Star Wars fans ourselves. Shiv wore the same Jedi Knight costume for Halloween from 8th to 12th grade. Alex once stockpiled toy replicas of Yoda’s, Analkin Skywalker’s, Darth Vader’s, and Mace Windu’s lightsabers. The franchise holds a sentimental place in our lives as well as in the U.S. cultural imaginary. But no cultural production is the same once you’ve read feminist theory. We’re wondering: Are we to believe that “a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away,” the same racist, patriarchal systems of power were shaping social life?


By watching Star Wars with feminist theory in mind, we examine the relationship between gender performance and non-human characters across a number of galactic examples. Through disabled, queer, racialized, and Orientalized non-human characters, Star Wars presents a number of “failed masculinities” -- performances of masculinity that do not meet hegemonic conventions. In this sense, to fail masculinity is to present a masculinity that is not white, able-bodied, heteronormative, and/or human. Whether through Darth Vader’s cyborgian turn, the droids’ gender failures, Jabba’s Orientalized narrative position, the colonization of the Tusken Raiders’ homeland, or the racialized, gendered depiction of Jar Jar Binks, it seems that Star Wars associates failed masculinities with the non-human. The franchise vests these gender ruptures and non-human embodiments with the discourse of “good/Light” and “bad/Dark,” imbuing the narratives with ableist, racist, patriarchal values.

Darth Vader

Darth Vader is the primary villain in the original trilogy. His evil character is accentuated by numerous iterations of failed masculinity that cut across ableist and heternormative registers. Episodes I-III document Vader’s evolution from Obi-Wan Kenobi’s sparky padawan (Jedi-in-training) to the evil, cyborg apprentice of Darth Sidious. As Anakin Skywalker transforms into Darth Vader, he becomes debilitated in a final fight with Obi-Wan, only to be rescued and outfitted with extreme prosthetics by the Dark Lord of the Sith. Before “turning” to the Dark Side, Anakin is living a heteronormative life: married to a pregnant Queen Padmé Amidala. In the transition from Jedi protégé, attentive heterosexual partner, and expectant father into the persona of Darth Vader, he fails conventions of hegemonic masculinity and becomes non-human.


Anakin’s transformation into Vader is marked by severe physical debilitation which results in Vader’s cyborgian body. Ableism operates by demarcating disabled bodies as less-than or other than human. Further, ableism’s collusion with patriarchy in turn aligns disability with gender failure, particularly failed masculinity. Disability becomes an important register for both the non-human and failed masculinity when disabled bodies are excluded from the categories of “human” and properly “masculine.” In this way, cyborgian existence is, at once, outside of the human and outside of idealized masculinity. Vader is the disabled to Anakin’s able-bodied. Vader is the cyborg to Anakin’s flesh. Vader is the non-human to Anakin’s human. Vader is the gender failure to Anakin’s robust masculinity. Vader is the villainy to Anakin’s heroism.

 
“Lovers by the beach” (captioned by Alex). Image credit: Imgur.

“Lovers by the beach” (captioned by Alex). Image credit: Imgur.

Image credit: Gfycat.com

Image credit: Gfycat.com

 

Anakin’s betrayal of the Jedi and the Light Side is really a betrayal of his heterosexual marriage to Padmé Amidala and the future nuclear family unit promised in Padmé’s pregnancy. Even the language of “turning” resembles discourses of sexuality. Vader’s transition casts the Sith order as a queer threat to the Jedi heteronormative. Further, the Sith is led by Darth Sidious, whose presentation is queer-coded with long fingernails and full robes. In transitioning, Anakin must choose an intimate, homosocial relationship with Darth Sidious in the place of his relationship with Padmé. As apprentice and master, Darth Vader has a dom/sub relationship with Darth Sidious. This dynamic is part of the homosocial structure of the Sith religion which is strictly run by the master and apprentice, thus creating an uniquely intimate bond between them as compared to the multi-gender Jedi council for example. The story of Vader incites the question: are the Sith a queer cult that lives to oppose the state-aligned Jedi order of ableism, heteronormativity, and patriarchy? In any case, the persona of Darth Vader exemplifies a departure from heteronormative norms in favor of a queer future.

 
Image credit: Quora

Image credit: Quora

“TIME Magazine Power Couple of the Year” (captioned by Alex). Image Credit: Wookieepedia

“TIME Magazine Power Couple of the Year” (captioned by Alex). Image Credit: Wookieepedia

 

The emergence of Darth Vader demonstrates how cyborgian, disabled, non-human existence becomes attached to the deterioration of heteronormative romance, the nuclear family unit, and masculinist heroism. Whereas Anakin Skywalker seemed the idealized masculine figure, Darth Vader is the threatening failure of gender conventions. Vader represents an ultimate example of how failed masculinities are predicated on ableist, heteronormative discourses and how Star Wars reproduces these patriarchal ideas in the service of differentiating “good” from “evil.” More, Vader’s failed masculinity does not only provide a comparison to the ultimately triumphant Luke, but also becomes synonymous with Vader’s embodiment of the Dark Side and evil. (Notably, when Luke loses a limb in a fight sequence with Vader, he leaps from a high ledge instead of leading a cyborgian life alongside Vader, therefore symbolically choosing death before failing masculinity like his father. Luke is fitted with a prosthetic arm in a brief scene and his cyborgian appendage is concealed thereafter.) Failing gender norms does not constitute a personal shortcoming, it evidences a villainous character; it constitutes a galactic threat.

In the final scenes of the original trilogy, Luke, Leia, and Han rejoice at their success in defeating the Dark Side. This victory is marked by three major points: Luke “saving”/turning Vader back to the Light Side, Luke and Leia partially reuniting their family unit by recognizing their siblinghood, and Leia and Han pairing off romantically, gesturing to viewers the potential for a successful heteronormative family in the future. (Just wait until their kid turns to the Dark Side in the next trilogy and throws a wrench in this plan once again.) The destruction of Vader is predicated on the restoration of heteronormativity. Vader must violently destroy Darth Sidious -- his Sith partner, if not life partner -- and renounce their association. Vader’s disabled body must die, leaving the masculine Luke to assume his role. Vader is redeemed by reclaiming his family associations and choosing the Light Side. In the end, Vader’s existence represents a profound threat to the ableist, heteronormative patriarchal social order; his villainy is really just attached to his non-human, failed masculinity. Darth Vader’s Dark Side orientation might simply describe his cyborgian embodiment and queer desires.

Image credit: Tenor.com

Image credit: Tenor.com

 

Droids

Droids play a crucial role in the galaxy. Different droid types serve varied purposes but nearly all of them are featured as subservient to humans throughout the films. Battle droids, protocol droids, surgical droids, astromech droids, engineering droids, maintenance droids, servant droids, and even child-care droids populate the Star Wars universe. Droids paradoxically both lack gender in their non-human form and present as hypergendered to perform work. Put differently, droids are gendered by their creators to reify the gendering of labor but their gender performance is always incomplete, inferior, failing compared to humans.

Droids serve as an example of a surplus population, or “future laborers for capital” that are “both superfluous and indispensable,” according to a definition by scholar Roderick Ferguson. As an endlessly and unquestioningly exploitable pool of labor, the gendering of droids is linked to the state’s construction of surplus bodies as different, and thus dispensable. In other words, droids are set up to fail gender performance because of the state’s need for them to be differentiated from the humans who employ them. When hegemonic gender performance becomes a measure of subjecthood, assigning gender deviance to “futurer laborers” allows the state to justify their dispensability. Following the logic of Ferguson, droids (as surplus bodies) must be symbolically distanced from idealized gender, embodying non-human forms that cannot perform a hegemonic gender expression. Presenting droids as non-human gender failures allows the androcentric “animacy hierarchy” -- the hierarchy of animate beings -- to continue to operate to the benefit of humans who settle, govern, and accumulate power in the galaxy.

That said, some droids in the Star Wars universe are, indeed, gendered through their design and “programming.” This so-called “masculine” or “feminine” “programming” is always attached to the purpose of the droid; droids that perform physical or intellectual labor are often programmed “masculine” while droids tasked with domestic or care work are often programmed “feminine.” Below images reveal the design of two distinct droids: the “Nanny Droid” and the “Super Battle Droid.” The images below reveal that gendered bodily traits are attached to droid labor. The Nanny Droid resembles cisheteropatriarchal notions of a woman’s body as the droid completes child-care work, a form of labor often associated with women. Similarly, the Super Battle Droid is jacked and even looks like it has abs. Its militarized masculinity attaches to its role as a soldier. In both of these cases, a non-human entity is given gendered physical attributes in order to reify their labor roles. What happens if we mentally swap the visual appearance of these droids while maintaining their assigned roles? We brush up against the confines of transphobic, heteronormative patriarchal norms. That George Lucas could imagine Wookies and lightspeed chase scenes but could not reimagine the gendered conventions of different types of labor is disappointing, to say the least. Indeed, it reveals how deeply naturalized and ubiquitous patriarchal notions remain.

 
“Super Battle Droid.” Image Credit: CGTrader.com

“Super Battle Droid.” Image Credit: CGTrader.com

“Nanny Droid.” Image Credit: Wookieepedia

“Nanny Droid.” Image Credit: Wookieepedia

 

Ultimately, droids cannot successfully perform gender. Battle droids are uniquely expendable, destroyed at the hands of their human counterparts who can embody an idealized masculinity. Child-care droids cannot have children of their own and must serve the children of their human counterparts. In this way, they can never properly assume an idealized gender role. Consider the distance between Han Solo’s masculinity and C3PO’s supposed masculinity; they are both meant to be read as masculine but C3PO will always fall short in comparison to his human counterpart. Droids fail gender, because of their distance from a “human” subject-position and their role as the primary surplus population in the galaxy. Yet, this unique position actually grants droids the possibility of gender play and rupture. 


Droids occupy a contradictory position as both surplus bodies that are associated with gender deviance and hyper-“masculine” or -“feminine” designs that reify the gendering of their respective labor. Yet, to unwittingly signal gender deviance, even for the purpose of state control and exploitation, contains the possibility of resisting patriarchal structures. Through their denied gender performance, droids literally embody a supposed impossibility: the failure of gender as a construct. Thus, droids invariably deny the naturalization of the gender binary. If droids cannot properly be “masculine” or “feminine,” then their failure opens the door for non-binary, non-human gender variance. Star Wars droids might indeed be agender, queer figures that threaten an androcentric, heteronormative, patriarchal social order. This theoretical reasoning is endorsed by the glorious corner of the Internet that continues to ship C3PO and R2-D2 ;) C3PO and R2-D2 are not as masculine as Luke and Han, nor are they ever the protagonists in the franchise. But, perhaps, in their periphery position, the droids prompt us to imagine liminal desires, performances, and genders that undo the entire system.

 

Tatooine: Jabba, “Sand People,” and the Orient

One of the most iconic and enduring scenes from the original trilogy is the Slave Leia sequence, in which Princess Leia Organa, dressed in a revealing bikini and chained by a collar, is held captive by the infamous Jabba the Hutt. In the scene, Luke Skywalker, Leia, and their group attempt to orchestrate a rescue of their friend Han Solo. However, the initial attempt goes awry and results in Leia being captured and chained to Jabba’s throne, only to be freed after another skirmish. Leia gets her revenge on Jabba at the end, choking him to death with the chain that collared her.

Image Credit: Quora

Image Credit: Quora

The scene, particularly the imagery of Slave Leia collared up and in a bikini, quickly became a fantasy for many and a cultural reference point for so-called nerds and fans alike. This scene not only highlights the highly-gendered sexual fantasy about Slave Leia, but also points to another masturbatory liberation fantasy common in both Hollywood and Western public discourse: the West venturing into and escaping the Orient. 

Following the work of Edward Said, the Orient is a place constructed and reproduced by the West, “...not only adjacent to Europe; [but also] the place of Europe's greatest and richest and oldest colonies, the source of its civilizations and languages, its cultural contestant, and one of its deepest and most recurring images of the Other.” The Orient served to define Western Europe through the West’s definition of the Orient. In the eyes of the West, the mythical Orient is a place of riches (think rivers of rubies flowing through the desert and oases) filled with savage, villainous men and oppressed, promiscuous women. It is a deeply gendered and racialized place.


This view of the Orient has become ingrained in popular culture and general discourse, prompting more recent and much-needed backlash (see Don't Liberate Me by S. R.--an Iraqi living in the United States). But the idea of the Orient is firmly established in Star Wars, with the Hutts being one of its main vehicles. The Hutts are a slug-like species and an intergalactic criminal organization that control many of the regions in the outskirts of the galaxy. They are a powerful, ever-present threat to the Western, heterosexist state that resides within the galactic core, whether it be the Galactic Empire or Republic. They are the Other in the universe: non-human, barbaric, uncultured, sex-obsessed, wealthy, and criminal. Jabba’s portrayal of fatness is also intimately connected to his portrayal of greed and weakness.

 
Image Credit: Wookieepedia

Image Credit: Wookieepedia

Image Credit: Pinterest

Image Credit: Pinterest

 

In the Slave Leia scene, Jabba is dependent on these perverse expressions of power to maintain his control, which in other words means maintaining his facade of masculinity. So, of course, in the hands of the Oriental man, the respectable, brave archetypal heroes are subjected to demeaning punishment, with Leia dressed in little to nothing. Yet in this scene, the heroes are able to liberate themselves, underscoring how this fantasy of the Orient simultaneously emasculates the racialized non-human Other while entrenching Western heteronormative ideals of masculinity. 


In the Star Wars universe, minorities are explicitly represented through non-human characters, racialized through stereotypical signifiers and/or superficial cultural cues. In other words, racial minorities are so different from the unspoken norm of whiteness that they are better represented as non-human aliens than humans. In our world, one of the on-going projects of the nation-state is to extract from and erase Indigenous and colored bodies. Part of this project is often to deny masculinity -- and the privileges that come from it -- to these bodies. Consequently, non-human characters in Star Wars, coded as racialized beings, are only allowed failed masculinities. As discussed, the Hutts are one instance of the Orient in the franchise. Other examples are numerous, e.g. a song named “Hindi Pop Source” playing in the background of a Clone Wars scene set in non-human Pirate Hondo Ohnaka’s headquarters. 

 
“Jabba the Hutt’s Palace.” Image Credit: StarWars.com

“Jabba the Hutt’s Palace.” Image Credit: StarWars.com

 

On the desert planet Tatooine, home to Jabba’s palace, there lies another striking example of racialized non-humans. Referred to as a primitive species native to Tatooine, the Tusken Raiders (also referred to as the “Sand People”) are a nomadic species often depicted in conflict with human settlers on the planet. Star Wars and its human protagonists portray them as barbaric, monstrous, and virile savages that are ultimately weak, easily scared, and unable to compete with the human settlers.

 
“Tusken Raiders.” Image Credit: StarWars.com

“Tusken Raiders.” Image Credit: StarWars.com

 

The comparison is clear: the Tusken Raiders are in many ways the representation of the Savage Native. John Flowers writes a witty piece on this exact topic, pointing out the inherent racism that underlays this dynamic and complicating what being on the “good” side of the Force really means. But an important part of this racism that is often depicted towards Tusken Raiders and Indigenous people alike is the gendered issue of masculinity. In Episode 4, Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi remarks, “The Sand People are easily startled but they will soon be back and in greater numbers.” As discussed in Eve Tuck and K. Wayne Yang’s foundational piece “Decolonization is not a metaphor,” the mythical male Indian is often depicted as a savage, primitive warrior, little more than an instinctive animal. This virile figure is a threat, so it must be defeated and erased. However, as ferocious as this native masculinity is described, it is only ever aspiring. Both in Star Wars and in reality, it is always defeated by the White settler. 


As a side note, the Tusken Raider’s remind us that we can look to Indigenous communities to understand how to live in balance with the environment. In fact, while the human settlers of Tatooine built moisture farms and mined for resources, the Tusken Raiders consider all water sacred and sustained themselves off the land.

 
“Coruscant.” Image Credit: StarWars.com

“Coruscant.” Image Credit: StarWars.com

“Tatooine.” Image Credit: Wookieepedia

“Tatooine.” Image Credit: Wookieepedia

 

Coincidentally, Tatooine is also home to Anakin and Luke Skywalker, the saga’s main heroes. While the strongholds of the galaxy are urbanized, developed centers like Coruscant, Tatooine occupies the position of the dangerous, barren yet fertile cultural contestant. In fact, Tatooine and its inhabitants are deeply intertwined in the origin of humans, according to Star Wars Legends. While it is generally agreed upon that humans in the universe originated in the core of the galaxy, probably Coruscant, the Jedi discovered “evidence in the oral traditions of the Sand People on Tatooine that the human species may have originated as slaves taken from [their home planet] by the Rakata [an early, advanced empire], the Sand people being the genetically distinct species that evolved from those who were left behind.” Tatooine is ultimately the galaxy’s Orient. It has always been the core’s and humanity’s contestant, its inhabitants viewed as primitive, savage natives or perverse figures of excess. These oppositional, deviant bodies of masculinity serve as the backdrop for defining and glorifying “good” men -- Western, strong, and human.

Jar Jar Binks

Without a doubt, Jar Jar Binks and The Phantom Menace, the episode he was introduced in, are some of the most hated parts of the Star Wars universe. Jar Jar Binks is a Gungan outcast, goofball, and (failed) comedic-relief character turned powerful military commander and politician in the Galactic Senate. Much of his success is owed to fits of clumsiness that cause chaos as often as they miraculously solve problems.

 
“Qui-Gon Jinn, Jar Jar Binks, and young Anakin Skywalker.” Image Credit: Vanity Fair

“Qui-Gon Jinn, Jar Jar Binks, and young Anakin Skywalker.” Image Credit: Vanity Fair

 

When he was introduced in Episode 1, Binks was notably different from his Gungan kin, a militaristic amphibian species native to Naboo. Binks was characterized as a lazy, flamboyant, and outrageous character in a universe full of somber themes and masculine action -- queer, effeminate masculinity in a sea of tough-as-nails men. This characterization likely played a role in the outpouring of hate by adult (male) fans against the character, which was so extreme it led the voice actor to contemplate suicide.


In their incredible article “Fag Wars,” Diana Tourjee and Mitchell Sunderland discuss how characters like Jar Jar Binks spoke to many queer people as being queer-coded. Whether it was the campy dress of the Queen of Naboo or the pederastic relationships of the Jedi and their padawans, queer audiences have long rallied around these examples of potential queer cinematic representation. Star Wars is ostensibly full of these queer dynamics: the R2-D2/C3PO ship (see Droids section), the homosocial Sith order (see Darth Vader section), or even Darth Maul’s home planet, ruled by femme witches called Nightsisters and home to the masculine Nightbrothers who are all subs (according to an amazing analysis by a trans artist named Niv that Tourjee and Sunderland interviewed).

 
“Queen Padmé Amidala.” Image Credit: Wookieepedia

“Queen Padmé Amidala.” Image Credit: Wookieepedia

“The Nightsisters of Dathomir.” Image Credit: StarWars.com

“The Nightsisters of Dathomir.” Image Credit: StarWars.com

 

But as if often the case, much of this queer-coding, unfortunately, was used as a tool to signify evil, deviance, and ultimately a failure to acquire heteronormative masculinity. Jar Jar Binks is no exception. At the surface level, it’s clear that what makes Binks a comedic relief is his inability to match the masculinity of a proper male, let alone his non-human Gungan brothers. While soldiers should be stern, strong, and brave, Binks is goofy, weak, and constantly terrified. To be sure, Star Wars did not wholesale dismiss the ability for non-humans to play important and brave roles, but these instances, such as Jar Jar Binks occasionally saving the day, were always exceptional, unexpected, and comedic moments in their own right -- not the norm.  
Like many non-human characters in the franchise, Binks was also racialized. As Niv from the “Fag Wars” piece asserts, Jar Jar is simply a caricature of a Jamaican rasta man. Attempting to untangle this image from his potential for queer representation is frankly impossible. Niv states: "The alien humanoids of the Star Wars saga consistently challenge gender binaries, but to say Jar Jar was actually trans would be giving George [Lucas] too much credit. Jar Jar was a cheap jab at black masculinity—call it what it is." This speaks to much of the missed potential for liberatory gender expressions in the franchise. While there were many queer-coded non-human characters, Star Wars ultimately privileged the human above all else, the series’ main vector for white, heteronormative masculinity and the nuclear family.

Conclusion

The Star Wars universe is expansive. Despite the hegemony of the human man, the universe promises genders and life forms unknown and yet undiscovered. This is the possibility of science-fiction, in short: fabricating new relations to power, resources, and social life. Science-fiction writing, or speculative fiction more broadly, is deeply connected to the work of the feminist imagination to future realities outside of the systems that govern the now. Walidah Imarisha writes that “all organizing is science fiction.” We believe that feminist critique offers “a new hope” for engaging with the franchise. It may involve celebrating Darth Vader’s transition, shipping C3PO and R2-D2, giving the Hutts the benefit of the doubt, campaigning for Tatooine to be unsettled and returned to the Tusken Raiders, and/or allowing Jar Jar to live his life to the fullest extent. Watching Star Wars provides the opportunity to imagine otherwise, to connect with one another, and maybe plan our very own intergalactic anti-racist, feminist, queer revolution.


SOURCES

Aberrations in Black, Roderick Ferguson

Orientalism, Edward Said

“Decolonization is not a metaphor,” Eve Tuck and K. Wayne Yang 

Animacies: Biopolitics, Racial Mattering, and Queer Affect, Mel Chen

Octavia’s Brood, eds. adrienne maree brown and Walidah Imarisha

“Fag Wars,” Diana Tourjee and Mitchell Sunderland

“Obi-Wan, Can You Stop Saying “Sand People”? It’s Kind of Racist,” John Flowers

Wookieepedia.com