Star Wars and Philosophy

by Kevin S. Decker

  “Don’t Give In to Hate: That Leads to the Dark Side”

  When Buddhism was introduced to China, it entered into dialectic with Taoism and the synthesis of Buddhism with Taoism produced the Zen philosophy. The notion of ch’i is rooted in Taoism, which teaches that the ch’i is manifested as yin and yang, the light and the dark, and that one must harmonize with this energy which requires balance. Lucas said that “The idea of positive and negative, that there are two sides to an entity, a push and a pull, a yin and a yang, and the struggle between the two sides are issues of nature that I wanted to include in the film.”33

  The word “tao” literally translates from the Chinese as “way” and the philosophy of Tao is about the Way of nature. Everything in nature exists in the field of opposites: up-down, left-right, in-out, male-female, light-dark, positive-negative, yang-yin, and so forth. The Way of nature has a tendency toward balance which is the Great Harmony know as Tai Chi, which literally means “Supreme Ultimate.” The so called “yin-yang symbol (a circle the inside of which is divided by a wavy line, one half being light with a dark dot, and the other half dark with a light dot) is properly called the emblem of Tai Chi. The white dot in the dark side and the dark dot in the light side symbolize the interdependence of opposites.

  In The Phantom Menace, Qui-Gon Jinn refers to “the prophecy of the one who will bring balance to the Force,” believing the “one” to be Anakin Skywalker. This implies something other than a duality of good versus evil. In Taoist thought there is neither absolute good nor absolute evil, but rather good and evil are relative conditions of one another. As Obi-Wan puts it, “You’re going to find that many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view.” From a Taoist point of view, it is not possible to have the light without also having darkness, or in the language of Star Wars, one cannot exist without the Dark Side being ever-present. When Anakin Skywalker becomes Darth Vader, he is seduced by the Dark Side, but in Return of the Jedi, his son, Luke, draws him back to goodness. Anakin thus bring balance back to the Force in himself as well as to the galaxy by destroying the Emperor.

  Is it possible to be out of balance with too much goodness? The short answer is “yes.” The prequel trilogy outlines just such a condition where the Jedi Order finds itself in the smugness of complacency as the Dark Side is active right under their noses. The Jedi are living so much in the light of morality, that the shadow of unconscious desire, symbolized by the Sith, takes on a life of its own and, like an unsupervised child, becomes delinquent. If one is out of touch with the shadow side of one’s nature—one’s Dark Side—it become pathological, like feeling lust or greed and living in denial or otherwise becomes unconscious, such that it only magnifies itself in the repressed unconsciousness. This, it seems, is the lesson that Luke learns in the depths and darkness of the cave on Dagobah in which he confronts his own Dark Side.

  Yoda teaches Luke that “a Jedi’s strength flows from the Force. But beware of the Dark side. Anger . . . fear . . . aggression. The Dark Side of the Force are they. Easily they flow, quick to join you in a fight.”

  Luke asks if the Dark Side is stronger. “No” answers Yoda, but it is “quicker, easier, more seductive.”

  Luke then asks, “How am I to know the good side from the bad?”

  “You will know. When you are calm, at peace, passive. A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defense, never for attack.”

  According to Buddhist psychology, there are three poisons which produce the karma of suffering: attraction, repulsion, and ignorance. Attraction includes desire to have or possessiveness, greed, lust, and any other emotions of holding on or clinging to what is wanted. Anakin’s excessive clinging attachment to his mother leads him into self-destructive hate and rage. The problem is not that he loves his mother, for that is good and natural; but his attachment, rooted in the fear of losing her, leads him to aggression when her death sends him into a rage and he slaughters a tribe of Sand People, including women and children. Following this is his fear-based, ego-centered drive to be strong enough never to lose what he is attached to again, blaming his own weakness for his mother’s death. He promises Padmé, “I will be the most powerful Jedi ever.”

  Anakin thus suffers repulsion toward his own perceived weakness. Out of repulsion are generated fear, anger, hate, violence, and other such emotions. In The Empire Strikes Back, Vader prompts Luke to use his hate. And in Return of the Jedi, the Emperor goads “Use your aggressive feelings, boy. Let the hate flow through you.” Acting out of such emotions leads to the Dark Side. Luke knows this and so encourages his father to “let go of your hate,” as doing so will lead Anakin back to the good that Luke has faith must still exist in him.

  Both attraction and repulsion are rooted in ignorance, which is the illusion of being an isolated individual ego. Buddhism teaches that there is no inherently substantial self. Everything is impermanent. All is in process, with everything changing, always flowing. Nothing is in isolation from the whole of this ever changing process. Existence is not made of parts, but is a relative process of interdependence. As Obi-Wan says, “The Force binds the galaxy together.” And it’s interesting to note that the one hero character who explicitly professes to not believe in the Force is named Han “Solo,” derived from the Latin for “alone.”

  The ignorance of egotism produces the negative karma of suffering. When one is constricted by one’s ego, the emotions characteristic of the Dark Side are generated. In The Phantom Menace Yoda warns Anakin, “Fear is the path to the Dark Side . . . Fear leads to anger . . . anger leads to hate . . . hate leads to suffering.” Fear is the clinging of ego, of not realizing the oneness of life. Anger and hate follow. Sakyamuni Buddha said that he taught one thing and one thing only, how to be free from suffering. This freedom is the letting go of clinging to the ego. With this letting go, negative emotions dissolve into nothingness.

  When Yoda teaches Luke to know by way of being calm, at peace, passive, this is the teaching of Tao. In Taoism, and in the Tao of Zen, there is the practice of letting go and emptying. Lao-tzu writes in the Tao Te Ching, the core text of Taoism, that the Tao is to unlearn and to undo. Yoda says to Luke, “You must unlearn what you have learned!” In Chinese this directive is called “Wu Wei,” which literally means “no action”; but a better translation would be effortless action or ego-less spontaneity. When Yoda says to be passive, he does not intend for Luke to become inactive, for the Force is ever in motion, like water flowing in a river—passively in action without effort.

  In the Japanese martial art of Aikido, effortless action is of the essence. The name “Aikido” means the way (do) of harmonizing or unifying (ai) the ch’i (ki). In order to use the ki, one must let go of effort. In the prequel trilogy one Jedi Master is named “Ki-Adi-Mundi,” which seems to be inspired by the name “Aikido.” When Obi-Wan begins to teach Luke the Way of the Force, he says, “A Jedi can feel the Force flowing through him.” When Luke asks if “it controls your actions,” Obi-Wan answers: “Partially, but it also obeys your commands.” This is an important teaching in all of the ch’i/ki-oriented martial arts and what differentiates them from gross fighting techniques.

  “Great Warrior? Wars Not Make One Great”

  Buddhist monks traveling throughout China, Korea, and Japan shared their martial arts with worthy students. About a half-century after the founding of Shaolin Kung-fu, the king of Silla on the Korean peninsula invited Buddhist warrior monks to begin training an elite order of warriors to be known as Hwa Rang. This order was to serve the kingdom, uphold justice, and maintain social order. They were a monastic order trained in not only martial arts, but also the healing arts, Taoist Ch’i kung, the arts of political leadership and diplomacy, as well as Buddhist philosophy. Like the Jedi, the Hwa Rang were chosen at a young age, trained to be pure of mind, and to follow a strict ethical code of loyalty, honor, and service. They were also given authority over the regular military in much the same way the Jedi are in Attack of the Clone
s.

  Buddhism was first introduced to Japan through Korea, and with it also the Buddhist martial arts forming the basis of Jujutsu. In Japan, the Sohei, an order of warrior monks much like the Hwa Rang, was developed. They lived in mountain monasteries surrounding the Imperial capital of Kyoto. Their considerable political power eventually put them at odds with the Shogun (military ruler over the warrior class, the samurai), culminating in the fifteenth century when samurai destroyed the Sohei monastic complex, killing most of its monks; parallel to the way in which the Jedi are practically wiped out in Revenge of the Sith. A few Sohei went into hiding, blending in with non-militant monks, and over time they taught their martial arts to other monks and a few worthy samurai. Eventually, Buddhist martial arts became the core of samurai training.

  The indigenous religion of Japan is Shintoism, which centers around reverence for the ancestors and worship of the Japanese Emperor as a divine incarnation. Traditional Japan was hierarchical with the Emperor and his family on top, then the nobility, and then the samurai. The common people were subordinate and submissive to this social structure. The word “samurai” means “to serve.” It was the role of the samurai to serve the good of the nation with honor and loyalty to the Emperor, and with absolute obedience to his master even unto death. The samurai had a strict code of conduct known as Bushido, which means “the way of the warrior.” The code consists of general precepts which are open-ended and fluid. Over time it would integrate into itself much of the ethical teaching of Buddhism.

  The sword is the soul of a samurai. The relationship that a samurai has to his sword is much like a Jedi’s relationship to his lightsaber. The name “Jedi” is derived from the samurai era of swordsmen called “Jidai geki,” which literally means “the era of play,” referring to samurai-inspired settings or themes used in Japanese drama. The Jedi’s kimono-style dress is loosely based on samurai clothing with the addition of a medieval hood to give a more monkish motif. Vader’s helmet and armor are based on those used by the samurai as well. Swordplay in the original Star Wars trilogy reflects the way of sword called Kendo, as derived from the samurai tradition. In the prequel trilogy we see sword styles based more on Kung-fu.

  Zen master Takuan Soho wrote to a sword master giving advice on Zen and the art of swordsmanship. He advised to have a “no-mind” mindfulness. Do not let the mind stop, but keep it flowing. As soon as the mind stops it localizes itself, thus becoming limited. Rather than localizing the mind, “let it fill up the whole body, let it flow throughout the totality of your being . . . Let it go all by itself freely and unhindered and uninhibited.” 34 Soho goes on to say that when the mind is nowhere—that is, when it does not stop at any location—it is everywhere. In Zen practice one is with one’s original mind, which is no-mind. A mind that stops and localizes is a delusive mind that is divided against itself, thus interfering with the free working of original mind. When Obi-Wan tells Luke to let go of his conscious self and act on instinct, he is essentially advising to let go of the divided delusional mind and go with the original mind which is the mind unconscious of itself: “A mind unconscious of itself is a mind that is not at all disturbed by affects of any kind . . . the mind moves from one object to another, flowing like a stream of water, filling every possible corner.”35

  There is a story of a centipede that was asked how with so many legs he was able to walk. When the centipede began to think about it he was not able to walk. The act of walking is simple without thought, but think about it and it become impossibly complex. To master is to simplify. The sword master must act on no-mind spontaneity. Takuan tells his student that his actions must be like sparks flying off flint struck by metal. There can be no delay, no hesitation. Attack and response must be in the same moment, such that no space and no time divide one thing from another. Zen sword master Tesshu calls this the “sword of no sword.” in which, as he says, “I naturally blended with my opponent and moved in unhindered freedom.”36 Aikido is founded on this same philosophy. In fact, it is literally the art of the sword without the use of a sword. There is a story told about Morihei Ueshiba, the founder of Aikido, being unarmed, defending himself from a sword attack by a high-ranking swordsman, by avoiding the cuts and thrusts until the swordsman gave up.

  In The Empire Strikes Back, when Luke is confronted with a task that he perceives as difficult, he declares, “Alright, I’ll give it a try.” To which Yoda responds, “No! Try not. Do or do not. There is no try.” So long as there is effort, that very effort divides the mind against itself. When “I” try, the mind is divided between “I” and trying. With effort there is division between the actor and what’s acted upon. This division is a psychological fabrication that fragments the whole into parts, thus removing one from original mind. In Zen enlightenment, known in Japanese as “satori,” there is the experience of undivided wholeness. Satori is what Zen is all about.

  Tesshu was one of the greatest sword masters. After his early training, he went for many years undefeated. Then he met Yoshiaki whom he was not able to defeat. Although Yoshiaki was older and much smaller, he repeatedly forced Tesshu to retreat. Tesshu began to suffer from the image of this master as a great mountain bearing down upon him. This was for him like Luke’s vision of Darth Vader inside the cave on Dagobah. And just as the real obstacle for Luke was his own mind (as revealed in the severed head of Vader exploding into the likeness of Luke’s face), so it was for Tesshu. Thus he went to a Zen master for help. “If an opponent frightens you or confuses you,” advised Zen Master Ganno, “it means you lack true insight.” Ganno gave Tesshu a koan for his zazen (Zen mediation practice). A koan is problem to work on with zazen that cannot be solved on the level of thought. Some classic koans are: “Show me your original face before your parents were born,” and “What is the sound of one hand clapping?” To answer a koan, one must demonstrate insight which comes out of satori. After years of Zen training Tesshu entered into a satori, after which the threatening image of Yoshiaki vanished. When next he encountered Yoshiaki and they crossed swords, Yoshiaki withdrew his sword and declared, “You have arrived.” There was no further need to fight for there was “no-enemy.” When Luke says to Yoda, before he knows it is Yoda, that he is looking for a “great warrior,” Yoda asserts that “Wars not make one great.” In like manner Tesshu only became truly great warrior when he realized that in truth there is “no-enemy.”37

  As a novice monk studying with Taizan Maezumi Roshi (a Japanese Zen master), I worked on a koan attributed to Bodhidarma: “If you use your mind to study reality, you will understand neither reality nor the mind. If you study reality without using your mind, you will understand both.” Axiomatic to Zen philosophy is the insight that conceptual understanding is illusory. A core assumption of Western thought is that one can use intellect to understand mind and reality. Zen asserts that this is not the case. True understanding is beyond all conceptualization. The mind is endlessly active in effort to achieve that which is impossible for it. Zen is a philosophy to undo philosophy, to study mind and reality with no-mind. There is no end to asking why and no way to give an intellectual answer that will be fully satisfactory. When Luke asks the “why question,” Yoda answers, “No, no, there is no why. Nothing more will I teach you today. Clear you mind of questions. Mmm. Mmmmmmmm.”

  4

  Moral Ambiguity in a Black-and-White Universe

  RICHARD H. DEES

  The moral universe of Star Wars has two colors: black and white. In the opening moments of A New Hope, we find Darth Vader, dressed all in black, confronting Princess Leia, dressed in virginal white. Every identifiable character in the six movies works either for the Light Side of the Force or for the Dark Side. It’s a world with very few shades of gray, much less of brighter, more interesting moral colors. In this galaxy, unlike our own, there seems, at first glance, to be no room for moral tragedy, for choices where no answer is morally correct, or for plain moral ambiguity.

  Nevertheless, moral ambiguity can be found lur
king in the Star Wars universe, if we look for it. Often, important characters are first presented to us as morally ambiguous. When we meet them, we do not know whose side they are on in the war, but later, their true natures reveal themselves. We can, I think, learn some important moral lessons by looking at the ways characters like Han Solo or Lando Calrissian reason when we first meet them and at the ways in which they turn towards one side or the other. There are also a few cases that are closer to real ambiguity, like Count Dooku and Anakin Skywalker. From both kinds of cases, we can learn how to think about moral problems more deeply and more intelligently.

  “What Good’s a Reward if You Ain’t Around to Use It?”

  When we first meet Han Solo in A New Hope, he’s a smuggler caught in the web of the crime lord Jabba the Hutt. He’s arrogant and cocky, a “scoundrel,” as Leia puts it. His moral philosophy is unmitigated egoism: he only looks after himself. “I take orders from just one person—me,” Han proclaims. He accepts the mission to Alderaan only for the exorbitant fee that Obi-Wan offers him, and he helps to find Princess Leia in the Death Star only because Luke promises him a large reward. Indeed, even after he rescues Leia, Han tells her, “I ain’t in this for your revolution, and I’m not in it for you, Princess. I expect to be well paid. I’m in it for the money.” As soon as he delivers the Princess to the Rebel Alliance, Han takes his reward and departs, leaving Luke to observe bitterly, “Take care of yourself, Han. I guess that’s what you’re best at, isn’t it?” Han sees no reason to accept any authority, moral or otherwise, outside his own self-interest.