Jeffrey P. Bishop and Isabel Bishop
In The Mandalorian, the Client says, “The Empire improves every system it touches. Judged by any metric – safety, prosperity, trade, opportunity, peace – compare Imperial rule to what is happening now. Look outside. Is the world more peaceful since the revolution? I see nothing but death and chaos” (“Chapter 7: The Reckoning”). The scene takes place in a safehouse for the Imperial remnant on Nevarro, an Outer Rim planet where there's lawlessness, disorder, theft, murder – what Thomas Hobbes (1588–1679) might've called a “state of nature” where people are free to do what they like, if they can get away with it. In the state of nature, might makes right; you have ultimate freedom, but there's no safety for your property or your person. Little did the Client know that Moff Gideon – a reminder of the Empire's former sovereign power – is sitting outside with enough firepower to destroy the safehouse. Power in all of its manifestations – political, biological, even mystical – is about to be on display.
In this chapter, we'll explore the relations of different kinds of power, philosophically understood – sovereign power, disciplinary power, and biopower – and argue that the politics of the Star Wars galaxy, as well as our own, is animated by an ontology, or metaphysical picture, centered on power. We'll further argue that The Mandalorian criticizes this power ontology with the introduction of the Child, Grogu, who generates a different kind of Force: a relational ontology of love. Grogu and the love he generates point to a different way of being in the world than power. Ultimately, The Mandalorian offers a different ontology of power – an ontology of love – as a radical alternative to the bindings of political power.
Nevarro is an Outer Rim planet at the margins of political power, sitting at the border between a civilized state and the state of nature. In Hobbesian political philosophy, the civilized state must be carved from the state of nature by sovereign power; the sovereign keeps one foot in the state of nature and one foot in the civilized state.
Nevarro's inhabitants also have interesting relationships to power. Greef Karga was a magistrate when Nevarro was under Imperial rule. Now he leads the Bounty Hunters' Guild, which operates by its own code but has an ambiguous relationship with New Republic laws. Bounty hunters operate in the interstices of sovereign and administrative power and have a malleable relationship with the power of the law. They often do things that would be illegal for the authorities to do, but aren't necessarily illegal for the average citizen to do. They work at the borders of the law, one foot inside the legal boundary and one foot outside.1
Din Djarin is a bounty hunter, but what makes him and his Mandalorian comrades unique among bounty hunters is the strict creed to which they adhere. They do not marry and they appear to swear off the comforts of home and sex. They grow their numbers by taking in foundlings and orphans, caring for them and raising them in the Way of Mandalore. Djarin belongs to a strict sect known as the Children of the Watch, a separatist group aimed at maintaining the purity of the religious cult. Separatist movements often grow up in the midst of chaos, usually at the margins of society. Separatists find strength in strict adherence to their doctrines, creating order for themselves in the midst of the chaos that surrounds them. Where the law cannot be trusted, faith in “the Way” creates spiritual order to face the chaos.
The Client is a businessman, who's seen the importance of Imperial political stability for his business. He hopes to discover Grogu's biological powers, like the longevity of his species and his ability to tap into the mysterious power of the Force. The Client's goal is the safety provided in biopower: the ability to heal the sick and stave off death. And if he makes a little profit along the way, then the spirit of capitalism might doubly bless him.2
Moff Gideon of the Imperial Security Bureau fills out the spectrum of power, having once been a notorious warlord of the Galactic Empire. He took part in the Great Purge of Mandalore, where he came to possess the legendary Mandalorian weapon, the Darksaber. Now leading an Imperial remnant, Gideon seeks to reestablish the Empire's sovereignty.3
On Nevarro, we find different kinds of power ontology at work. There's the border between chaos and order, that between the state of nature and the civilizing government, and that between sovereign power and administrative governing power.
Sovereign power in premodern Western societies tended to be mysterious and directly related to cultic concern for right worship of the proper gods, and so political power was related to the mythology of people grounding their faith in a spiritual order. Before modern times, Hobbes saw not a spiritual order, but chaotic forces at work in the state of nature. In the state of nature, you can act however you wish, drawing on your own power – just as Anakin attempts to convince Padmé to join him on the dark side to “make things the way we want them to be.” But this need to express power is also true for everyone else. The only thing preventing someone from stealing your landspeeder is the greater power and threat of violence as punishment. The state of nature is a war of all against all in which life is “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.”4
As Hobbes sees it, a civilized state is carved out of the state of nature by the sheer strength of a sovereign who wields the greatest power. Those less powerful then enter into a social contract with the sovereign for protection. Each individual cedes their freedoms for the sake of security. The sovereign retains the power to punish and even kill to keep rogue forces from molesting citizens of the contract, thus securing the civilized state. Hobbes's political philosophy is aimed at creating the orderly society imagined by the Client, but also by Palpatine in his speech to the Senate at the founding of the Empire in Revenge of the Sith (ROTS): “In order to ensure our security and continuing stability, the Republic will be reorganized into the first Galactic Empire, for a safe and secure society.” Just as Hobbes's sovereign retains the power over life and death held over from the state of nature, the Emperor must be able to kill and so employs enforcers such as Darth Vader, the Inquisitors, and legions of stormtroopers. The Emperor also enforces his power through the bureaucratic ranks of Imperial governors, moffs, and magistrates – as Greef Karga once was.
Once the sovereign and their sergeants‐at‐arms have secured the border between the state of nature and the civilized state, governing within the boundaries takes on a very different tenor. John Locke (1632–1704) agrees with much in Hobbes, arguing that people long for freedom to carry out meaningful lives.5 But for Locke, the sovereign must cede back to individuals some of the freedoms they had in the state of nature. And David Hume (1711–1776) argues that in order to protect these civil liberties, there needs to be some sort of bureaucratic structure that both assures security and protects freedom.6
We can see two dimensions of this kind of bureaucratic power in the work of Michel Foucault (1926–1984).7 First, there exist a series of disciplines that constrain the extent of individual power, and these could be seen as oppressive. An example might be found in the design of the panopticon prison, created with the hope that prisoners (or workers) might internalize the behavioral (or work) habits that the designers had in mind. Thus, disciplinary power is also internalized by each individual through education and formation for the purposes of disciplining oneself. You can enjoy the freedoms granted to individuals by the sovereign … if you have self‐discipline. On Nevarro, we see disciplinary power at work with Greef Karga. As head of the Bounty Hunters' Guild, he metes out punishments to those who violate the Guild's code – as Djarin does when he recovers Grogu from the Client. We also see it subtly at play in the Client, who wants stable markets that shape people's behaviors toward productivity; thus his hatred of the chaotic post‐Imperial galaxy. Finally, there's the stoic self‐discipline exercised by Djarin and his fellow Mandalorians following the strict creed of “the Way.”
Foucault saw disciplinary power as a break from sovereign power. The goal of disciplinary power is to render individuals docile, so that they desire whatever preserves their safety and security within the civilized state. Once the boundaries of civilization are protected from the state of nature, safety and security themselves become administered within the state. The contemporary philosopher Giorgio Agamben argues, however, that sovereign power is still active within the bureaucracies and disciplines of the civilized state.8 For example, Locke thought the administrative state would limit itself to creating zones of liberty, but the civilized state in fact begins to see itself as creating safety and security at every level. When Palpatine articulates his vision of the Empire, he does not have in mind a limited, Lockean state. Instead, he sees the power of sovereignty as ordered to the creation of “a safe and secure society,” which he proclaims to the cheers of the Senate. Padmé – channeling Locke – laments, “So this is how liberty dies. With thunderous applause.” The Lockean vision is at odds with disciplinary power. Padmé would agree with Agamben's claim that sovereign power remains active even in disciplinary power. For Palpatine, sovereign power is necessary to execute disciplinary power for the sake of a safe and secure society. But it's also necessary to have power over death and life, which is the concern of biopower.
Foucault sees power manifesting differently in different epochs of history: power is different in the epoch of sovereign power than in the epoch of disciplinary power. The epoch of disciplinary power gives way to the epoch of biopower in the eighteenth century. Disciplinary power is exercised upon, and then internalized by, individuals. Biopower is exercised upon populations in various ways to tap into the power of life itself, attempting to create populations with targeted abilities and strengths.
For example, the Kaminoans contracted by the Republic through the Jedi Sifo‐Dyas, created a grand clone army, harnessing the biological power of the Mandalorian bounty hunter Jango Fett. Fett's biopower is deployed by sovereign power for the sake of executing the sovereign's desires (seemingly the Senate's desires, but actually Palpatine's). A contrasting example is the more mystical biopower exhibited by the 50‐year‐old Force‐sensitive Child, Grogu. The Client hopes that Dr. Pershing, a former Imperial scientist, can study Grogu and extract whatever gives his species such longevity and links him to the Force.
As a child, Grogu has not yet learned to align his power to the Force. Djarin understands the gift of power Grogu has, and that it must be cultivated and harnessed through practice. The need for practice shows that power is not neutral, but can deliver creation and destruction at the same time – just as the Death Star aims to create order by destroying planets. Grogu must learn to align himself with the light side of the Force, which requires the disciplinary tutelage of a Jedi. The search for a Jedi to educate Grogu becomes Djarin's primary task.
Djarin understands that if Grogu falls into the hands of the Client and Gideon, the sovereign power the Empire brandishes will become stronger for the sake of establishing “safety and security” at the expense of any other possible goods, such as freedom and meaning. Yet, what motivates Djarin – along with Cara Dune, Kuill, and eventually Greef Karga – is not the moral vision of sacrificing one for the many. Nor is it even the sense of duty that Djarin feels as a Mandalorian adhering to his creed, which requires him to save foundlings. Rather there's something far more subtle that seems to slip from the three levels of power – sovereign, disciplinary, and biopower. As an alternative to the bindings of a power ontology, Grogu symbolizes an alternative ontology grounded in love.9
In the power ontology at work in the Star Wars galaxy we have been discussing, all creatures are caught in a world of power relations. Power is all there is, or so it seems. Even the Force is imagined as a kind of power that some sentient beings can interact with in various ways. Everything seems to stem from power: life (both naturally and through dark side manipulation), the ability to build planet‐sized cities (Coruscant) and technological terrors (Death Stars, Starkiller base), and the desire to create social order (Republic, Empire, New Republic, First Order). Power here moves at every level: cosmic, biological, political. In this ontology, there's no good or evil per se, but only the sake for which power is used. As Palpatine tells Anakin, “Good is a point of view, Anakin. The Sith and the Jedi are similar in almost every way. Including their quest for greater power.”
Palpatine is correct that power dynamics shape the confrontational relationship between the Jedi and Sith, which is fed by the Jedi's disavowal of strong attachments. Sensing that young Anakin misses his mother in The Phantom Menace, Yoda warns, “Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.” Later, in ROTS, when Anakin has a Force vision of Padmé's death, Yoda again interprets Anakin's personal attachment as somehow disordered, exhorting him to “Rejoice for those who transform into the Force. Mourn them do not. Miss them do not.”10 This philosophy dissuades Jedi from attachment because it might lead to negative emotions, such as fear, hate, and grief. Yet, had the Jedi understood something about human attachments and bonds, they might've seen that appropriately loving attachments can also bring positive emotions leading to the light side of the Force.
Yoda would have Anakin not love, so that he would not fear. Not heeding Yoda's counsel, Anakin sees Jedi detachment as impotent against the forces that would take Padmé's life and seeks to gain power over them. Palpatine convinces him that the dark side is more efficacious in protecting those he loves. If the Jedi had not closed themselves off to love, and if their traditional training practices had rightly ordered Padawans toward properly loving attachments, Anakin might never have embraced the dark side.
Anakin's sense that the world is a harsh and dangerous place is the animating force behind sovereign power, whether in the Sith desire to overthrow the Jedi, in Palpatine's desire to establish a new order, or in Gideon's Imperial remnant at the margins of the Outer Rim. Each is caught in the throes of power which even the seemingly powerful Empire cannot control. Even those who choose the dark side, like Anakin, do so hoping to gain the power to protect something or someone they love, believing, as Anakin proclaims in ROTS, that “peace, freedom, justice, and security” are made possible by a “new empire.” The logic seems tight: there must be a sovereign to rule over chaos in order to create these conditions, as if the sovereign – whether a person or a system of governance – can hold death and destruction at bay. All political systems arise for this purpose. No one can imagine a way out of the binds of this power ontology, in galaxies far or near.
Yet, The Mandalorian articulates another way – we may even call it a “little way.” Through Grogu's innocent engagement with other beings, through his dependency on others, through the very fact that he can be destroyed by power, the Child demonstrates a different relation to power, including a different relation to the Force. He's subject to the powers of the world, and yet, in his helplessness before these powers, others come to see their way out of the binds of power. Grogu does this through the love he generates in Din Djarin, and the love they share reaches far beyond their “Clan of Two.” Omera – a villager on the swamp planet of Sorgan – sees the love they share, which in turn generates her love for Djarin. This shared love transforms a cynical Cara into someone who can see that order must be placed in service of something other than just ordering power itself – rather, power must be ordered to love. And the love that circulates between Grogu, Djarin, and Cara breaks open the hard crust of Greef Karga, who then partakes in the love by being healed by Grogu.
Each of these principal characters are forced to abandon a haven in the midst of the chaos of disorder. Greef Karga abandons the Bounty Hunters' code in double‐crossing the Client. Cara Dune abandons her cynical attempt to protect herself by being a loner. Din Djarin begins to see that the creed of the Children of the Watch is actually a second‐order concern. In “Chapter 15: The Believer,” he removes his helmet – breaking his creed – to save Grogu. He's willing to reveal himself as a vulnerable human being for the sake of another whom he loves. He later removes his helmet to allow Grogu to see his face for the first time (and, perhaps, the last) before sending him away with Luke Skywalker.
The Mandalorian thus offers a different relation to power than most of the rest of the Star Wars canon.11 Perhaps the world is not just power all the way up and all the way down, but can also embrace an array of differing relations that move individuals toward loving relationships with each other. Rather than the binds of power, The Mandalorian offers the bonds of love as an alternative ontology, an ontology of relations.
The Mandalorian provides “a new hope” for a world not ordered by coercive and violent powers, a world of “all against all.” It points to the faults of disordered creeds aimed toward securing power – whether sovereign power, disciplinary power, or biopower. As shown in “Chapter Five: Return of the Mandalorian” in The Book of Boba Fett, Din Djarin must ultimately abandon the Children of the Watch to embrace the “little way” of Grogu. And Grogu himself, at the end of the next episode, must choose whether to follow Luke's Jedi training and immerse himself in the epochal power exchanges between Jedi and Sith or follow his loving attachment to Djarin. His choice shows that the central moral question here is not whether you adhere to the light or dark side of the Force, but whether you can envision and strive to create a world built, not upon power, but upon a love ontology.