Sand carrying spice blows over the surface of Arrakis. This little gas regulates the entirety of the known universe and soon it will be controlled by a single man, a messiah, a God (Dune book title puns included).
Dune has never been a popular franchise outside of the niche and cult-minded readers of science fixion. There were a number of reasons for this, but the most obvious was the absurdity contained within. Though the first book can be stomachable outside of fantasy-jargon and a talking toddler, the subsequent entries in the series double down on everything that kept readers away.
This is a large reason why the book was considered unadaptable to film for a long period of time. There was no general film audience who could handle this level of sci-fi/fantasy shenanigans; it was only for those purely invested in the genre.
David Lynch proved exactly this in 1984 when the studio asked him to adapt Frank Herbert’s first novel, and though the film was not a giant flop, it didn’t make back it’s budget and there was a general stigma around it ever since.
Villeneuve and team’s decision to re-adapt Dune for a modern audience was met with skeptical glances by many. Villeneuve had already proved his willingness to continue strange and obscure (I use this term loosely) sci-fi with 2049, but Dune was an entirely different project.
Luckily, for many, the team was successful in translating the peculiarities of Dune into something more manageable for mass cinema audiences, but in doing so, the piece joined a group of work which sends mixed thematic messages and continues to reinforce a dangerous understanding of the world. This is the idea of a Moral Messiah.
David Lynch’s Dune is another entry in this camp, as it too failed to transcend the cliche of the white saviour, but it did managed to characterise Paul near the end in a much darker light.
Unlike in the 2024 film, which sees the thematic tapestry of the images adopt an idea of extreme utilitarianism, Kyle McLaughlin's victory in 1984 is a bittersweet win and one the audience isn’t sure if they should cheer for. It’s still made incredibly clear he is some god-like figure who deserves respect, but his motives and the way he played into manipulation is kept unclear, in the same way most of Dune Part 2 treats the religious fanaticism.
What is a moral messiah? It is a trope and a worldview unsurprisingly derived from Christianity and used to justify a wide range of political and theological positions through non-material identification. It is a presupposition of good intentions from religious leaders (and political leaders)--the idea that prophets and godkings come to those positions out of upstanding moral fibre rather than through manipulation, betrayal, and political manipulation. And it believes the axions of these individuals to be unquestionable.
The archetype for this kind of worldview is obviously the life of Jesus, a man who supposedly was without sin and only acted in the just and correct way. This is the central tenet of Christianity; however, if we were to examine the situation in a more accurate light, Jesus would look more like his portrayal in The Last Temptation of Christ.
How is any of this relevant to Dune Part 2? Well, first of all, it shows a slight betrayal of the book, where despite being shown as manipulating the emotions of the Fremen and adopting a Utilitarian standpoint, Paul is still portrayed as being correct and just by the end of the film, no matter how frightening he might be. And second, it showcases the corrosive disease which has snuck into every aspect of Western life, that of this Christian thinking, which leads to a number of consequential political and social standpoints: most notably that of the White Saviour and a reason to justify Imperialism.
Let’s take a real life example who likely inspired Dune originally: T. E. Lawrence. Though doubtlessly influential in winning the independence of the Arab world, he was driven by a strange orientalism which hardly constitutes purity of morals. In this case, one could say ‘the ends justify the means’, but that doesn’t lend credence to a deification of Lawrence. He should instead be seen as a troubled man who helped achieve a good by mere happenstance.
Now, obviously, no one is claiming T. E. Lawrence is a religious messiah, but the definition is broader, because he is often viewed as a political messiah, as in the example of Lawrence of Arabia. He is a the liberator of the people and their own contribution and struggle can easily be coopted into a more fitting narrative. This is exactly what happens in Dune. Paul begins by being on the side of Fremen liberation and the importance of the people leading their own revolution, but as soon as he is recognised as a skilled fighter and leader, all the credit goes to him and the Fremen are reduced to an army at the command of a messiah, not people.
This has been a tool throughout history to dehumanise and simply matters of vast complexity. Think of how often the decay of a country is blamed on a single leader and not on the failing conditions of every aspect of the system or the outside sources which might have contributed--war, sanxions, global shortages, etc.
Ultimately, the rôle of the moral messiah (or immoral depending on who is viewing) is to diminish material realities and rely fully on emotions when describing people and situations. It’s the reason Christian thinking so strongly divides ‘good’ and ‘evil’. In this way, there can be a moral, ethically good side, and one who is ‘objectively’ evil (an obviously stupid sentiment).
This is the kind of thinking that can easily justify wars, genocides, and imperialism. If one side is always vindicated, any move they make, like Jesus before them, must be the right choice. Think: the Axis of Evil.
One disease for another.
Capitalism is the new Christianity.
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