Borsk Fey'lya and the Loyal Opposition
Sep. 16th, 2008 05:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
I’ve mentioned a few times before that I pretty much lost all interest in the EU about halfway through the New Jedi Order series, largely because I found it pointlessly depressing. And since then I’ve had no interest in going back to find out what happened in the rest of the series. There’s two reasons for this; number one, I never really cared about the story when I was reading it, and two, because the ending I’ve constructed in my head is no doubt much more satisfying than whatever ended up being published.
See, in my trawling through the internet, I have ended up finding out one major detail about the storyline of the New Jedi Order – that Borsk Fey’lya sacrificed himself, killing thousands of Yuuzhan Vong soldiers in the process. So in my personal interpretation, that’s the end of the story. Fey’lya’s sacrifice destroyed the majority of the Vong invasion force, ending the threat forever and saving the galaxy.
Because, you see, Fey’lya is one of my favourite characters, and if he’s going to die, I want it to be a galaxy-changing event, and I want everyone to be forced to recognise his heroism and apologise for ten years of novels where he was portrayed as a villain, often with little to no justification.
Politics isn’t something the post ROTJ-EU handled very well. Ideally, it would have been left out entirely, but that would have been hard to do. After all, the goal of the Rebellion was to institute a new government, and it would have stretched credibility if Leia hadn’t ended up playing a major role in that government. And once you’ve got a main character in a political role, you’re going to have to work that into the story. So politics ended up playing a role in practically all the Bantam-era EU novels.
The problem is that the internal politics of the New Republic resemble nothing seen in actual states – at least, nothing in functional states. Part of this is, of course, a side-effect of lots of different authors writing without necessarily consulting with each other, so a lot of the details about how the Republic government actually works are contradictory. But even beside that – there’s virtually no mention of elections, or how cabinet positions are assigned, or what specific powers the chief of state has. The only mention of any political parties in the entire Bantam-era is in Planet of Twilight, where a ‘Rights of Sentience Party” is briefly mentioned.
In general, New Republic politics seems disturbingly static, with the rebel-era old guard remaining in almost all positions of authority a generation after Endor. The Black Fleet Crisis would have one believe that after more than five years as chief of state, and having spent almost her entire adult life in the senate, Leia still has no idea how to present her positions so as to gain popular support, and seems to find the very idea beneath her. Han Solo is shocked the senate can call a no-confidence vote against Leia, not because he thought her political position was stronger than that, but because he doesn’t seem aware that there even is a mechanism for recalling a Chief of State who’s lost the support of the government. In general, the Republic’s leadership seems to have settled into a comfortable oligarchy of its Alliance-era leadership, with little hint of a democratic structure. Perhaps more disturbing, there seems to be very little separation between the military and civilian government; there’s no hint that Ackbar ever hung up his uniform, yet he’s apparently part of the New Republic’s Inner Council.
And then there’s Fey’lya. Fey’lya’s not a military man, though he has been with the Alliance since shortly after Yavin. What he is, is a politician - in both the positive and negative senses. Whenever he shows up in the novels, he’s clearly representing the Bothan people – and, admittedly, advancing his own career in the process. He makes an effort to keep himself visible; he comes across likes someone who can’t afford to rely on his existing achievements; he’s got an election coming up! You can believe that the Bothans would keep voting for him for reasons more than political inertia – he’s getting things done, or at least coming across as trying to get things done. He’s looking for power, sure – but he does it through the system. He doesn’t take bribes or embezzle money; what he does do is talk a lot, make speeches, argue with his opponents, and bring people around to his side or isolate them politically. That’s what an elected representative is supposed to do, after all – and despite that, he’s painted as a villain.
There’s a bit in Heir to the Empire, where a Republic officer comments that “Fey’lya’s about to make his move.” Wedge, shocked, asks “You don’t mean… a coup?!” Of course, Fey’lya’s not planning a coup; what he’s planning is to take advantage of Ackbar’s political weakness to take his position in the Republic cabinet. That’s not evil. That’s not even underhanded. That’s the way a parliamentary system is supposed to work! Fey’lya would be completely justified in his actions, even if he didn’t have evidence that seemed to indicate Ackbar was taking bribes from the Empire. And despite all that, we’re still meant to take Wedge’s concerns as a legitimate concern about Fey’lya, rather than the total paranoia they’d be in a functional state.
And then later authors took the idea that Fey’lya’s the ultimate political villain and ran with it, and Fey’lya ends up being the closest thing to an opposition leader that the strangely non-partisan Republic senate has. And he acts the way an opposition leader should – he criticises the government at every opportunity, and makes alliances with other senators in attempts to gain enough support to challenge the chief of state. Somehow, though, he’s still the villain, as if he has some sort of obligation to support the government’s legislation. But in a functioning representative democracy, a politician doesn’t have any obligations other than to their own electorate. If the old guard don’t like it, maybe they should get organised themselves, and make an effort to convince the Bothan people to stop reelecting Fey'lya and choose someone loyal to the ruling coalition - shouldn't be a tough ask, if Fey'lya's as self-evidently evil as most of the novels would have one believe. Of course, doing that would be admitting that they’re not pure of the taint of politics either, and no doubt actually running a campaign from time to time would only be lowering themselves to Fey’lya’s level…
It’s kind of ironic that considering how many writers used Fey’lya as a villain, he never ended up doing anything outright criminal – probably because everyone wanted to keep him around for a later story. The result, though, is that our favourite slimy Bothan ends up being the only politician in the New Republic who’s actually honest about his job – and seems to understand he’s there to represent his people’s interests, not as a personal reward for fighting for the rebellion.
See, in my trawling through the internet, I have ended up finding out one major detail about the storyline of the New Jedi Order – that Borsk Fey’lya sacrificed himself, killing thousands of Yuuzhan Vong soldiers in the process. So in my personal interpretation, that’s the end of the story. Fey’lya’s sacrifice destroyed the majority of the Vong invasion force, ending the threat forever and saving the galaxy.
Because, you see, Fey’lya is one of my favourite characters, and if he’s going to die, I want it to be a galaxy-changing event, and I want everyone to be forced to recognise his heroism and apologise for ten years of novels where he was portrayed as a villain, often with little to no justification.
Politics isn’t something the post ROTJ-EU handled very well. Ideally, it would have been left out entirely, but that would have been hard to do. After all, the goal of the Rebellion was to institute a new government, and it would have stretched credibility if Leia hadn’t ended up playing a major role in that government. And once you’ve got a main character in a political role, you’re going to have to work that into the story. So politics ended up playing a role in practically all the Bantam-era EU novels.
The problem is that the internal politics of the New Republic resemble nothing seen in actual states – at least, nothing in functional states. Part of this is, of course, a side-effect of lots of different authors writing without necessarily consulting with each other, so a lot of the details about how the Republic government actually works are contradictory. But even beside that – there’s virtually no mention of elections, or how cabinet positions are assigned, or what specific powers the chief of state has. The only mention of any political parties in the entire Bantam-era is in Planet of Twilight, where a ‘Rights of Sentience Party” is briefly mentioned.
In general, New Republic politics seems disturbingly static, with the rebel-era old guard remaining in almost all positions of authority a generation after Endor. The Black Fleet Crisis would have one believe that after more than five years as chief of state, and having spent almost her entire adult life in the senate, Leia still has no idea how to present her positions so as to gain popular support, and seems to find the very idea beneath her. Han Solo is shocked the senate can call a no-confidence vote against Leia, not because he thought her political position was stronger than that, but because he doesn’t seem aware that there even is a mechanism for recalling a Chief of State who’s lost the support of the government. In general, the Republic’s leadership seems to have settled into a comfortable oligarchy of its Alliance-era leadership, with little hint of a democratic structure. Perhaps more disturbing, there seems to be very little separation between the military and civilian government; there’s no hint that Ackbar ever hung up his uniform, yet he’s apparently part of the New Republic’s Inner Council.
And then there’s Fey’lya. Fey’lya’s not a military man, though he has been with the Alliance since shortly after Yavin. What he is, is a politician - in both the positive and negative senses. Whenever he shows up in the novels, he’s clearly representing the Bothan people – and, admittedly, advancing his own career in the process. He makes an effort to keep himself visible; he comes across likes someone who can’t afford to rely on his existing achievements; he’s got an election coming up! You can believe that the Bothans would keep voting for him for reasons more than political inertia – he’s getting things done, or at least coming across as trying to get things done. He’s looking for power, sure – but he does it through the system. He doesn’t take bribes or embezzle money; what he does do is talk a lot, make speeches, argue with his opponents, and bring people around to his side or isolate them politically. That’s what an elected representative is supposed to do, after all – and despite that, he’s painted as a villain.
There’s a bit in Heir to the Empire, where a Republic officer comments that “Fey’lya’s about to make his move.” Wedge, shocked, asks “You don’t mean… a coup?!” Of course, Fey’lya’s not planning a coup; what he’s planning is to take advantage of Ackbar’s political weakness to take his position in the Republic cabinet. That’s not evil. That’s not even underhanded. That’s the way a parliamentary system is supposed to work! Fey’lya would be completely justified in his actions, even if he didn’t have evidence that seemed to indicate Ackbar was taking bribes from the Empire. And despite all that, we’re still meant to take Wedge’s concerns as a legitimate concern about Fey’lya, rather than the total paranoia they’d be in a functional state.
And then later authors took the idea that Fey’lya’s the ultimate political villain and ran with it, and Fey’lya ends up being the closest thing to an opposition leader that the strangely non-partisan Republic senate has. And he acts the way an opposition leader should – he criticises the government at every opportunity, and makes alliances with other senators in attempts to gain enough support to challenge the chief of state. Somehow, though, he’s still the villain, as if he has some sort of obligation to support the government’s legislation. But in a functioning representative democracy, a politician doesn’t have any obligations other than to their own electorate. If the old guard don’t like it, maybe they should get organised themselves, and make an effort to convince the Bothan people to stop reelecting Fey'lya and choose someone loyal to the ruling coalition - shouldn't be a tough ask, if Fey'lya's as self-evidently evil as most of the novels would have one believe. Of course, doing that would be admitting that they’re not pure of the taint of politics either, and no doubt actually running a campaign from time to time would only be lowering themselves to Fey’lya’s level…
It’s kind of ironic that considering how many writers used Fey’lya as a villain, he never ended up doing anything outright criminal – probably because everyone wanted to keep him around for a later story. The result, though, is that our favourite slimy Bothan ends up being the only politician in the New Republic who’s actually honest about his job – and seems to understand he’s there to represent his people’s interests, not as a personal reward for fighting for the rebellion.