Avatar: An Idiotic Justification for War

Many have viewed James Cameron’s Avatar, rather naively, as an anti-militarist and even pacifist and ecological film. But it is nothing of the sort — quite the reverse. This is a film in praise of violence and war. By reversing the roles and caricaturing the American army, the film certainly throws up a smoke screen, which has deceived more than a few. But its idyllically rustic setting nonetheless hides an eminently corrosive discourse — one that provides a justification of war for us peace-loving Westerners.

Let’s start with the scene where an enormous tree falls with a crash in the middle of a horrified population. To compare this with the collapse of the World Trade Center towers is surely inescapable. Indeed, this awe-inspiring scene justifies everything that follows for the indigenous people who have been savagely attacked on their own planet. And it’s a marine, no less — the film’s hero, Jake — who suggests to the natives that they should join forces (like the Allies) to suppress and kill those who (like terrorists) have attacked them in this cowardly way. At that very moment, the imperial American eagle appears on screen, in all its splendor, (in the guise of a Transformers-style giant dragon) upon whose back our fearless American hero will ride as he leads the natives to final victory.

This hero, a simple American soldier wounded during the war and now “revamped” in a new body, is returning to battle, but this time he is on the right side. In this sense, he is the perfect illustration of the average American — an innocent person who does not want war but who, for the sake of the cause, will in the end be transformed into a passionate fighter and will even exhort the indigenous population to follow him into combat. When you are attacked, you must be able to defend yourself. That is an absolute right. Such is the message of this $300 million American super-production that amounts to an expression on the ideology of war — of the so-called just war or, if you prefer, the war of good against evil.

The film distinguishes between good warriors (the Na’vi) and bad warriors (the GIs). But as we know, there is really no such thing as good and bad warriors. All wars, even those that seem utterly insane, are regarded as just because they are conducted for reasons of defense. (That’s why the ministries concerned are called Defense Departments.) Let’s not forget that war was “just” even for Hitler: He needed to expand German territory to ensure the survival of his people. One never goes to war to fight, but only to defend oneself, as any warmonger will tell you. That is the very spirit of war, and it’s this basic spirit that Avatar is trying to revive. The word “avatar” itself, which comes from Sanskrit, refers to an envoy sent by God to watch over the battle of good against evil.

It’s also worth noting that several battle scenes in the jungle evoke the American experience of the war in Vietnam, where American might was crushed and humiliated despite the U.S. military’s use of napalm. In the face of such a humiliation, the film surreptitiously suggests that you must know how to make an intelligent counter-attack: not brazenly, by destroying everything in your wake or idiotically deploying poisonous gas, but by precisely targeting the enemy, and doing so in alliance with other threatened nations. Does that not strike you as the perfect justification for the war in Afghanistan?

And, as always, the indigenous population is represented as a people attached to outdated rituals who must be guided into battle by the film’s intelligent hero. This newly designed Na’vi, who looks like a violent exterminator and wields a submachine gun to wipe out the invaders, offers to be a role model to the poor natives by showing them how to fight without mercy and establish their supremacy. All of this harks back to the American westerns in which a gallant cowboy almost always ended up joining the Indians to incite them to fight the American army to the death. By acting as a righter of wrongs in this manner, this type of hero subtly helped to alleviate feelings of guilt over the genocide of Native American tribes. This film reinvests the American eagle with pride and noble sentiments in the same way.

More than any other filmmaker, James Cameron has no doubt understood that for a film to be popular, it must confirm the public’s convictions. We kill, yes, but we only kill those who threaten our country’s security. How reassuring, how comforting! Thanks to this film, the adage “si vis pacem, para bellum” (“if you wish for peace, prepare for war”) can be brought back into service. The only catch with that old and ridiculous adage is that it can be used to the advantage of any population that feels threatened.

Lastly, it’s a shame that this film, which apart from its technical feat has absolutely nothing new to offer, should nonetheless be winning every kind of plaudit. Situated as it is somewhere between a Walt Disney film and an episode of Transformers, or perhaps between Jurassic Park and Terminator, Avatar can be viewed from many angles. For example, there is the simplistic formula whereby animals are friends of the good guys and enemies of the bad guys — thoroughly dismal, but apparently quite good enough for a country where environmental problems are still not taken seriously. No doubt, with cheap tricks like these, the king of the world, as Cameron likes to call himself, will achieve huge popularity and be crowned, once again, with every honor.

Pierre Desjardins is an author, and teaches philosophy at Montmorency pre-university college in Quebec.