the m0vie blog

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine is twenty years old this year. To celebrate, I’m taking a look at the first season. Check back daily for the latest review or retrospective.

Both Star Trek and Star Trek: The Next Generation allowed their first seasons to run an episode too long. The City on the Edge of Forever, the penultimate episode of the first ever season of Star Trek, is a genuine classic. I don’t envy any story that has to follow it, especially not something as mediocre as Operation — Annihilate! While Conspiracy, the second-to-last episode of the first season of The Next Generation, is hardly a classic in the same league, it does up the stakes on the show’s first year, and tie up a dangling plot thread. The Neutral Zone, on the other hand, is a bland return to form, with a particularly insufferable b-plot.

So the excellence of Duet might offer the viewer cause to worry. A penultimate first-season episode which is significantly above average? One would be forgiven for wondering if the first season might have been best served to wrap itself up at that point, going out in a high, safe in the knowledge that it had contributed one classic episode to the Star Trek mythos and with the potential to offer quite a few more. Quit while you’re winning, and don’t tempt fate with another superfluous episode.

In the Hands of the Prophets, however, puts those fears to rest. Serving as a companion piece to Duet, it’s another one of those “only on Deep Space Nine“ stories, closing out the first season with a reminder of what makes the show unique. In the Hands of the Prophets is another classic piece of Deep Space Nine. It might not pack quite the punch that Duet did, but it’s a compelling piece of drama which demonstrates just how much Deep Space Nine has to offer the Star Trek mythos.

Social commentary is a tricky thing. You often run the risk of dating yourself. After all, who can say if a big issue of the day will remain relevant in ten or twenty years time? There’s every chance that commentators and writers will look back on your work as something of a historical text, an interesting look at how a particular debate went, rather than a compelling and probing exploration of the issue itself. Star Trek: Deep Space Nine has been, broadly speaking, lucky in how its social commentary has aged.

The whole “Changeling threat” arc in from the show’s third season on now seems weirdly prescient. The threat posed by an enemy that can look like anybody, capable of silently infiltrating our homes without declaring itself, is a potent metaphor for the climate of fear created by the War on Terror. The political commentary of Star Trek: Into Darkness feels quite like a retread of ground Deep Space Nine covered years before September 11th in Homefront and Paradise Lost. Then again, more people saw Into Darkness on its opening weekend than will likely ever see Paradise Lost, so it’s hard to be too critical.

In the Hands of the Prophets is a blatantly political piece from Robert Hewitt Wolfe. However, it’s political on two levels. There’s the surface level, the debate playing out over what can and can’t be taught in the schools on Deep Space Nine. However, there’s a more subversive commentary on the kinds of people who so often rally around these sorts of causes, trying to excite public outrage about something which could easily be discussed reasonably, hoping to escalate what should be a small and rational debate into a wave of heated argument they can harness and ride to their own advantage.

It’s very strange that the debate about religion in schools should be even more heated today than it was when the episode first aired. I suppose that the debate about the role that religion should play in union with (and potentially to the exclusion of) science has been thrown into stark contrast in recent years due to a number of factors. The rise of high-profile combative atheists like Richard Dawkins probably doesn’t help to calm the debate, and the resurgence of the religious right in America in the early part of the twenty-first century has only turned this into an even hotter issue than it was back in 1993.

In the Hands of the Prophets doesn’t dwell too heavily on the educational debate. It’s really just a springboard. However, it does raise some interesting questions, and is more concerned about how we discuss the issue than the issue itself. Star Trek is, broadly speaking, a very atheist franchise. Indeed, Star Trek V: The Final Frontier (aka the one we don’t talk about) features Kirk facing the only enemy William Shatner deems truly worthy: God. Well, maybe a being posing a God. It’s nebulous. Anyway, the film’s happy ending features Kirk killing God (or a being impersonating God) as the being’s religious followers are exploited and manipulated. As you do.

While it’s an extreme example, it is roughly in keeping with Star Trek‘s attitude towards organised religion. If Kirk or Picard stumbles across the natives worshiping something, the odds are that it’s just an advanced computer or an alien conman. While Picard might get all angsty about meddling, Kirk will just blow stuff up, and the franchise is broadly in agreement that religious devotion is not a good thing. This reflects Gene Roddenberry’s own atheistic beliefs.

Deep Space Nine actually takes an approach much more consistent with the philosophy of Star Trek as outlined by Roddenberry. Roddenberry dared to imagine a future built on mutual respect and tolerance, so it seems strange that this tolerance never really extended to freedom of worship. In the Hands of the Prophets offers both sides of the debate, and is even a little critical of the Federation perspective. However, Sisko comes down firmly on the side of tolerance. “My philosophy is that there is room for all philosophies on this station.” In other words, infinite diversity in infinite combinations.

Sisko’s position is the most rational and easily defensible – tolerance for a variety of viewpoints as long there’s no harm involved. In a way, it’s far more tolerant and understanding than hard-nosed atheism, accepting that religious and scientific beliefs are not mutually exclusive. What’s interesting, then, is not only that Sisko’s perspective seeks to balance the two, but also that Keiko’s position is portrayed as almost as hard-lined as that of Kai Winn.

“Do you believe the Celestial Temple of the Prophets exists within the passage?” Vedek Winn asks here. Keiko diplomatically responds, “I respect that the Bajoran people believe that it does.” However, Keiko refuses to compromise on the issue. Vedek Winn talks a lot of hypocritical self-serving nonsense in the episode, but Kira scores points when Keiko argues that schools do not exist to endorse a particular philosophy. “Some might say pure science, taught without a spiritual context, is a philosophy, Mrs O’Brien.”

Keiko gets a bit of a hard time as a supporting character. Many viewers are quick to dismiss her as shrewish and to suggest that her marriage to Miles O’Brien is not a happy one. I’ve never really subscribed to that view, but In the Hands of the Prophets does portray Keiko as stubborn to a fault, with a bit of a persecution process. To be fair, A Man Alone established how difficult it was to establish a school on the station, so one can understand how she’s upset.

However, she seems openly combative. When Jake comes home from school, he reports she made an unscheduled change to the curriculum. “There was only me and four other kids left, but she still kept the school open,” he explains to Sisko. “She changed the lesson to teach us about Galileo.” In case we don’t get her subtext, Jake asks, “Did you know that he was tried by the Inquisition for teaching that the Earth moved around the sun?” Talk about a persecution complex. And this is before the situation begins to escalate out of hand.

While Keiko scores points for being more reasonable than Winn (her contributions to the debate don’t amount to bombs and assassination attempts), there’s a sense that she’s not really contributing to the discourse. She’s unwilling to meet with the Bajoran parents and to hear their concerns out. When Winn causes a scene, she runs straight to Sisko to invite him to back her up. It’s Sisko who invites a Bajoran perspective into the meeting. Winn isn’t interested in debating, but one wonders if willingness to engage from Keiko might have prevented Winn from gaining traction.

Which brings us to Winn as a character. Continuing the first season’s trend of placing various supporting characters on the board for later use, In the Hands of the Prophets gives us the character of Vedek Winn Adami. She’ll be important later, but she makes quite an impression in her debut. Casting Louise Fletcher in the role is one hell of a casting coup for the series. This is an Oscar-winning actress who is instantly recognisable to an entire generation. And In the Hands of the Prophets got her to sign on board on the strength of the script alone.

I feel like I say this about a lot of the show’s recurring cast, but Fletcher is amazing as Winn. Winn is just this absolutely perfect character for the actress, and one she very clearly relishes playing. Battle Lines took the benign Kai Opaka out of Bajoran politics, which opened up all manner of storytelling possibilities for the show. Sisko had been introduced to the Bajoran mythology, and welcomed as a messiah, by Opaka. However, “everybody gets along” is not good drama, and giving Sisko a Bajoran antagonist is a very shrewd move.

After all, it seems quite logical that Bajor should be politically unstable and that Sisko’s job should be more than just a glorified babysitting assignment. Bajor just emerged from a horrific Occupation. Shortly after that, their messiah figure basically abandoned their spiritual leader (the woman apparently largely responsible for shepherding Bajor through the Occupation) on a rock on the far side of the galaxy. Bajor should not be a happy place.

And we’ve seen hints of instability. Progress suggested that the Provisional Government had to make tough calls. Duet revealed that Bajor was still nursing deep wounds. Even The Storyteller suggested that land disputes were fairly common on the surface of the planet. However, In the Hands of the Prophets scales upwards. It suggests that Bajor’s entire political structure is in upheaval. It’s the first time we’ve really engaged with the Bajoran religion in a meaningful way since Emissary, and it does not paint a pretty picture.

Winn raises an interesting point here, albeit only in passing. Sisko has been named the Bajoran Emissary to the Prophets. He is an outsider. He’s not even Bajoran. While we’ve seen relatively little of the day-to-day impact of the title on his work on the station, it’s nice to see the subject addressed, as Winn broaches the fact that Sisko is not – from her perspective – “of Bajor.” She ponders, “I once asked Kai Opaka why a disbeliever was destined to seek the Prophets, and she told me one should never look into the eyes of one’s own gods. I disagreed. I told her I would do anything to look into their eyes.” Later, she refers to Sisko’s “godless Federation”, clearly trying to erode his influence on Bajoran affairs.

To be honest, it seems like Winn would object to any Emissary who would not bow to her wishes, and it’s nice to get a sense that Bajor isn’t one single homogenous culture. It’s something that has been hinted in stories like The Storyteller and Progress, and we get a sense here of how divided the planet must be. The death (or departure) of the Kai leaves a void, and it’s nice to see the show mining the power vacuum for drama.

Winn is so fascinating because she is a very shrewd character. She’s multi-faceted even here. Beneath her condescension and attempts to sound perfectly reasonable, there are two competing causes for concern. For one, she’s a fundamentalist. She’s hardcore. She doesn’t compromise, even when it’s in everybody’s best interests. More than that, though, she’s also a massive hypocrite. The whole school debate is engineered by Winn as a smokescreen. There is a sense that she believes in what she’s saying about the “godless Federation”, but there’s also a sense of opportunism at play here.

Winn’s problem isn’t here faith. It’s her inability and unwillingness to seek a peaceful solution. As Sisko tells his son, “My point is, it’s a matter of interpretation. It may not be what you believe, but that doesn’t make it wrong. If you start to think that way, you’ll be acting just like Vedek Winn, only from the other side. We can’t afford to think that way, Jake. We’d lose everything we’ve worked for here.”

How much or how little Winn actually believes is debatable, and it makes her a more complex character. She’s willing to exploit the faith of her followers for her own ends. At one points, she talks to her assassin in a manner which recalls the logic of Islamic extremists. “The sacrifices the Prophets call on us to make are great sometimes, my dear, but the rewards they give will last through eternity.” In the Hands of the Prophets has become even more pointed in the years since it aired, with the rise of that sort of extremism in various forms.

Winn is a terrifyingly prescient glimpse at the ideology of Al-Qaeda and the Westboro Baptist Church, cynical organisations justifying suffering through faith. “The Prophets spoke! I answered their call!” Winn’s assassin declares when arrested. Her madness matra continues as she is pulled away. “The Prophets spoke! I answered their call!” Winn’s pragmatic exploitation of this faith is terrifying.

Then again, as Quark observes, it’s often the most valiant protectors of public decency who are the most corrupt and decadent. One noting the arrival of several orthodox clergy on the station, Quark is ecstatic. “Orthodox? In that case, I’ll need twice as many dabo girls. These spiritual types love those dabo girls.” It’s an observation that seems particularly pointed in the wake of various high-profile scandals involving various moral crusaders like Newt Gingrich. It is often quite difficult to live up to your own standards.

As Sisko notes, all this is just manoeuvring. I don’t doubt she believes her actions are justified in the name of the Prophets, but I’m not entriely convinced she truly believes in anything beyond herself. “You claim the Prophets as your personal constituency, Vedek Winn,” Sisko argues. “I’m not convinced that’s justified. Who do you speak for? An order that is barely listened to in your Assembly. So you come here looking for a more receptive audience.”

And yet, despite that, Winn is more than just a one-dimensional villain for Sisko to tackle. There is a sense of insecurity in her admission that she “would do anything to look into [the Prophets’] eyes.” This hints at something the show would make clear in The Reckoning and Til Death Do Us Part, the suggestion that Winn hasn’t actually spoken to the Prophets in the same way that Opaka, Bareil and even Sisko have.

She does claim to have encountered them. “The Prophets have spoken to me through the orbs, Emissary,” she advises Sisko. “I understand my duty to defend the Bajoran faith.” However, it’s possible she’s just telling a self-serving lie. After all, to concede that her gods have abandoned her would undoubtedly undermine her bid for the Kai-ship-thing. This suggestion actually humanises Winn just a bit. She’s no less hypocritical or malicious, but it seems her anger is at least rooted in an insecurity we can almost understand.

In the Hands of the Prophets also introduces the character of Vedek Bareil, who will become almost as important to the show. There’s a sense here that Bareil was intended to be far more interesting than the two-dimensional zen master he eventually became. In the Hands of the Prophets indicates that Bareil is both street-smart and politically astute. Explaining why the Vedek Council will not see Sisko, Bareil observes, “Some fear you as the symbol of a Federation they view as godless. Some fear you as the Emissary who has walked with the Prophets. And some fear you because Vedek Winn told them to.”

When Sisko appeals for help, Bareil is quite hesitant. “Today, I am only a Vedek. If the Prophets will it, someday I may be Kai, and I can be a better friend to you then.” As Sisko observes, “In other words, being my friend now might hurt your chances.” Bareil tries to deflect with a bit of mystical nonsense. “The Prophets teach us patience.” Sisko retorts, “It appears they also teach you politics.” Although Bareil’s conscience eventually gets the better of him and he does journey to the station, there is at least some hint of self-interest in the character which makes him seem like more than a convenient source of new age philosophy.

He’s not exactly a complex character here, but those edges would be softened in his later appearances, turning him into a more generic (and more boring) “goodie-goodie” character, to the point where Ronald D. Moore would concede that the writing staff “simply isn’t interested in Vedek Bareil.” I suspect that Philip Anglim’s portrayal had a lot to do with this. His relatively bland line readings and generic pleasantness hardly lend themselves to the nuance of a shrewd political operator. Even though In the Hands of the Prophets tries to hint he has some political acumen, it is quite apparent even here that Winn is going to eat him alive.

The only potential problem with the plot is the character of Neela. Realising they needed an assassin for In the Hands of the Prophets a few episodes earlier, the show invented a Bajoran assistant for O’Brien. The logic was that the audience would be less likely to suspect one of the show’s few guest stars if that guest star were recurring. However, the character of Anara didn’t quite work out in The Forsaken, with actress Benita Andre looking like she might have difficulty acting her way out of a paper bag.

So the character was hastily reconceived as Neela, who popped up briefly in Duet, although not enough to allay suspicion here. In the Hands of the Prophets at least cheekily acknowledges this switch. When Keiko hears that Neela is working with her husband, she slyly asks, “So, is she working out any better than the last one?” The code for Neela’s plan conspicuously begins “A-N-A.”

Robin Christopher is much more convincing than Benita Andre, but the episode struggles to try and disguise her guilt. The teleplay ultimately opts to add a small personal subplot for O’Brien. It is a clever way of dealing with the problem, as it looks like Neela exists to playfully develop the whole “Bajorans and Federation working together” theme, by intimating O’Brien and Neela might work together too well. “On your toes, O’Brien.”

However, there’s a problem here. The subplot is so tiny it barely registers and thus can’t really distract from the role that Neela is clearly intended to play. In a sense, that’s perfectly reasonable. If they made the plot any larger, it would eat into the meatier subject matter. As it stands, however, the fact that Neela is the only possible culprit does undermine the mystery a great deal. That said, it’s less of a problem on re-watch.

In the Hands of the Prophets is a powerhouse of a season finalé, one which book-ends Emissary surprisingly well. It’s proof that – even if there have been a few missteps along the way, Deep Space Nine is at least moving in the right direction.

You might be interested in our reviews of the first season of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine:

• Emissary
  • Supplemental: Terok Nor – Day of the Vipers by James Swallow
  • Supplemental: Prophecy & Change – Ha’Mara by Kevin G. Summers
• Past Prologue
• A Man Alone
• Babel
• Captive Pursuit
• Q-Less
• Dax
• The Passenger
• Move Along Home
• The Nagus
• Vortex
• Battle Lines
• The Storyteller
• Progress
  • Supplemental: Terok Nor – Night of the Wolves by S.D. Perry & Britta Dennison
• If Wishes Were Horses…
• The Forsaken
• Dramatis Personae
• Duet
• In the Hands of the Prophets

Filed under: Deep Space Nine | Tagged: Bajoran, Benjamin Sisko, deep space nine, Emissary, gene roddenberry, Jake Sisko, Kira Nerys, kirk, Operation: Annihilate!, paradise lost, Prophets, Robert Hewitt Wolfe, science fiction, Sisko, Star Trek Into Darkness, Star Trek Next Generation, star trek: deep space nine, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Companion, star trek: the original series, StarTrek, Winn |