Revenge is not in the Jedi code—duh, Nahdar! You just repress your anger and trust in our Jedi Republic, where the ultimate revenge fantasy is embedded and forced fed (pun intended) to the entire galaxy. This is the political problem in the Star Wars prequels as well as in The Clone Wars television series (which you should watch because it’s better). The above scene takes place as Nahdar Vebb desperately tries to kill General Grievous against the orders of his former teacher, Kit Fisto. As Nahdar is battling it out with Grievous, Kit chastises him for following his emotions and seeking to eliminate Grievous at this opportune time. When your religious order is in bed with the state, you don’t have to take justice into your own hands. This is essentially what Nahdar failed to understand and the reason he was killed to the dismay of literally no one except Kit, whose grief seemed to last only seconds.
The entire context in which the clone wars were waged is essentially an endless spiral of reactionary politics and unaddressed ideological affinities. The Jedi are the sticklers, the rigid ethicists, while the Sith are hedonistic demons that try to separate from the Jedi Republic. So the Republic is good, and the separatists are bad—purely labeled with cookie-cutter precision. And yet, even with the incredible effort put into painting the Republic as the moral ideal, the underlying stench of despotism and tyranny bleeds through.
It’s nearly impossible to watch the series with the naivety required to believe the Republic is as just and stoic as it claims to be. Having a Republic that’s legislature and military are largely controlled by noble Jedi Knights doesn’t make said Republic more honorable or ethical; it makes the Jedi Code more laughable and cheapened into a commodity of the state. This can also apply to real-life governments that seek to utilize religious sages and Mystics—it doesn’t purify the state, it cheapens the religion. The Jedi Code, similar to other religious ethics, doesn’t require the same intensity of devotion when it’s coupled with the state. Going back to the example at the beginning, the Jedi can resist the urge to act out in anger or seek revenge simply because the Republic will do these things for them.
The stark contrast between Obi Wan and Anakin can be used to flesh out what I mean. Constantly Anakin acts impulsively to fulfill the objectives of his mission, namely to capture/kill Count Dooku and eliminate General Grievous. If Anakin has either in his cross hairs, he will kill them, arrest them, or do what it takes to make sure he has eliminated the threat they pose to the Republic. On the other hand, Obi Wan is always calm and compliant, able to let his foes get away if he has to, whatever it takes to remain immersed in the transfiguration of the force. Underneath this, Obi is able to be cordial and remain at ease in these situations because he has been around long enough to know how that the Jedi Republic operates.
For instance, recall when Anakin and Obi were chained with Count Dooku, the three of them hanging off of a ledge with Anakin’s grip sustaining them, trying to escape from the pirates in The Clones Wars series. Anakin is holding up the weight of the three and is about to fall when a blaster hits their shackles and disconnects Dooku from the Jedi. Obi quickly grabbed Dooku to keep him from falling to his death and the minute relief Anakin felt dissipated. Anakin yells for Obi to drop Dooku so that he can lift up just himself and Obi—after all, Dooku’s death would be a good thing, right? But Obi, in keeping with his training, refuses to comply. Thus, the three get recaptured and eventually Dooku escapes, flying off to plot more harm against the Republic. Obi can turn the other cheek and forgive Dooku all that he wants, but the Republic can’t because Dooku is a military threat. Obi can save Dooku perhaps because he knows the Republic will eventually kill him anyway.
After this scene, the Jedi nobly leave without harming the Pirates that kidnapped, extorted, and tortured them; to the surprise of the Pirates, the Jedi truly turned the other cheek. That is, until Obi chirps, “You’ll find that Count Dooku doesn’t share our sense of honor and he knows where you live!” This perfectly sums up the pathology of the Jedi. They don’t seek revenge, passion, or emotive hostility; they just leave their foes in the crosshairs of the Sith. In this way, revenge fantasy takes the place of actual revenge, and they effectively “get even” while peacefully leaving. They are the heroes that have convinced the entire galaxy of their innocence, and yet they are the most eaten up with vices. Similarly to those real-life religious folks that only love their neighbor because they are convinced that hell awaits them for their apostasy.
What good is it to rid one’s self of anger, emotional hostility, and passion in the context of the Republic? After all, with this imperial backdrop, the riddance of these things is nothing more than repression. Revenge fantasy takes the place of actual revenge, and one’s personal hostility is liquidized into a clone trooper’s blaster. Anakin’s failure to repress himself in the safety net of imperialism is ultimately what leads to his progression into Vader, becoming a Sith Lord.
