A Cold, Cruel Counting
by Jessica Dickinson Goodman
Most of my friends only experience the war through numbers. Unless they have family on the streets where the bombs are falling, in uniform or not, kill counts reported on the screens in our homes are the only way many people track the war in real-time.
It helps me to remember that TV show writers don't live in a pocket universe, one more far-seeing, wiser than the one in which we all shower and shave and find holes in our socks every day. Unless they are unlucky enough to have participated in the current war, their knowledge of the war comes from those same sources.
The pictures we see on television or in our papers – bombs, bodies, landscapes we've never driven through, leaders speaking languages we do not, propaganda both crudely and delicately crafted – have limited currency. But numbers, kill counts especially, are strangely memorable. We repeat them, over and over, as if these numbers tell us something of what it is like to fight and die on the other side of the world.
Gideon's copy of The World in 1966: History as We Lived It by the Writers, Photographers, and Editors of The Associated Press (Published February 1967) has this to say about the ongoing conflict in Vietnam:
"The allied side lost nearly 14,500 dead during the year, including some 4,800 Americans. Enemy dead were placed at 50,000, but some officials privately said the figure was inflated."
The war in "A Taste of Armageddon" feels like the product of this numbers-based approach to understanding war. In this writerly extension of bloodlessly reported casualty counts, Captain Kirk and his crew face two entire societies (Eminiar Seven and Vendikar) which conduct their war via computers and then tally up the expected deaths. Living people then march into disintegration chambers to keep their 500 year war's gory score. Those societies have chosen to ensure that:
Anan: […] Our civilization lives. The people die, but our culture goes on.
Kirk: You mean to tell me your people just walk into a disintegration machine when they're told to?
Anan: We have a high consciousness of duty, Captain.
Backing up, Captain Kirk and his crew had been ferrying Ambassador Fox to open up diplomatic relations with Eminiar Seven, who they have little knowledge of. They are warned away, but acting under the Ambassador's orders, they disregard the warnings. It soon comes to light that, by entering orbit around Eminiar Seven, the Eminians and Vendikans now consider the Enterprise as a fair target in their murderously bloodless war games. When Captain Kirk declines to order the crew to transport themselves to the surface to be disintegrated, the leaders of the planet hold him and the rest of the landing party hostage.
There is some clever interplay, personal bravery, voice-faking trickery, stubborn commitment to principals on both sides, a self-sacrificing lady in distress, a self-important diplomat, some cruel things said about diplomats as a category by Mr. Scott ("Diplomats. The best diplomat I know is a fully activated phaser bank"), and finally, a threat of overwhelming force, via the apparently genocidal standing "Order Twenty Four." (I spent much of the episode hoping "Order 24" was an old joke between the Captain and Scotty, but that shoe never dropped, leaving me disturbed as to Starfleet's comfort with destroying sentient life en mass). Eventually, Captain Kirk gains the upper hand and forces the Eminians and Vendikans to the negotiating table, with the following mandate:
Kirk: "I've given you back the horrors of war. The Vendikans now assume that you've broken your agreement and that you're preparing to wage real war with real weapons. They'll want to do the same. Only the next attack they launch will do a lot more than count up numbers in a computer. They'll destroy cities, devastate your planet. You of course will want to retaliate. If I were you, I'd start making bombs. Yes, Councilman, you have a real war on your hands. You can either wage it with real weapons, or you might consider an alternative. Put an end to it. Make peace."
Make Love, not War
Because, despite the callow specimen of a diplomat that Ambassador Fox turns out to be, all wars – computer-run or otherwise – end at the negotiating table. Smart leaders try to get there as soon as possible, because they know the reality that the Eminians and Vendikans did not seem to grasp: every life lost in war is a blow to that culture. Every dead body, bomb explosion, pitted landscape, dead leader, and bit of corrosive propoganda is part of cultural death.
To be clear, I am not against self-defense in war. A proper pacifist, I am not. If I had the option of being drafted, I could not honestly mark myself a conscientious objector because I do believe there are some wars that need fighting; the jacket I wear in my photo was a relative's Plebe jacket from West Point, class of '49 and he is not the only one to serve in my family. But wars of choice are an entirely different matter to me. Those leaders who wake up one morning and decide to send other people's children to die over borders they should not have crossed in the first place are a curse upon our shared world. We have no idea how the war between the Eminians and Venikans began – by choice, by misunderstanding, by cement-shoe treaties, or with one attacking and the other defending. They do not seem to recall the inciting incident either. In the end, like all wars, peace will only come from talking.
And I find myself agreeing with Captain Kirk, wishing more people would know the consequences of war, and not just the counts of it. Perhaps we too would seek peace and hold her more dearly if we did.
Four stars.
A Polite and Gentle War?
by Erica Frank
I'm sure Dr. Leary would have something to say about the psychology of a whole society—two whole planets, in fact—that has indoctrinated its people so well that they politely march off to death when a computer tells them to.
This is exactly the opposite of the Human Be-In that took place in San Francisco last month, with its focus on "Turn on, tune in, drop out." Instead, the Eminians (and, presumably, Vendikans, although we don't meet them) have a whole culture of "Show up, tune out, drop dead."
The Eminians could take a page from our book…
While their society appears peaceful to Kirk and his team, there must be a great deal of turmoil under the surface. It's not easy to get people to just politely walk to their deaths, so their indoctrination must start very young—perhaps in infancy. Otherwise, how could you explain to a six-year-old that Mommy is leaving forever because a computer said she's dead now? Do parents calmly hand over their children to be disintegrated? …Or are children exempt from "war death," and that's one of the "messy" parts of war that their game avoids? Either way, Eminiar must have a booming business in last-minute video recordings left at the disintegration center for loved ones to pick up later.
However, I suspect the people are not so controlled as all that. While some people—like the High Council—might walk quietly to their own deaths for the sake of society, the general populace may not be so compliant.
"All those in favor of marching to your death, please remain seated."
What terrors must their death guardians commit on the populace, to convince millions of people to leave their families to die?
What do anti-war protests on Eminiar look like? Perhaps they hang around the death centers, handing out flyers that say "You Still Live! Reject the Computer and Reclaim Your Life!" Of course, the High Council would have the Enterprise crew believe that nobody protests, that everyone follows orders. But if that's true… why do their guards carry guns?
Eminiar seems to be a technologically advanced society. Surely a society that is at peace except for the cold calculations of the war itself, has little experience with interpersonal violence. But their guards are armed and well-trained. If people go to their deaths without complaint, why would their guards be so combat-ready that they are able to take down Kirk and his team? Who are they trained to fight when Federation agents aren't visiting?
I think we only got to see a tiny slice of Eminian life, filtered through the biases of the council that calmly declares millions of deaths and then makes sure that number comes true. We saw "Ministry of Peace" propaganda, not what life is actually like for most people.
Four stars. The more I think about this episode, the more chilling implications I find.
Mutually Assured Accounting
by Lorelei Marcus
How often can someone confidently say they are living through an historic event? The kind of world-altering occurrence or period that will go down in the textbooks, that kids will memorize for years to come.
I think everyone lives through three or four. I narrowly missed World War II, but the bulk of my life has been spent in the conflict that has succeeded it. Indeed, this one may be even more global in character than the last, because we all are living in its shadow: The Cold War.
I know the Cold War is a big deal, beyond the news items, the Duck and Cover drills, the Ban the Bomb protests, because it is everywhere in my entertainment. In songs like Barry MacGuire's Eve of Destruction. In movies like Dr. Strangelove, Failsafe, On the Beach, Panic in Year Zero. On the small screen in shows like Twilight Zone and Britain's The War Game. Books like Alas, Babylon and Farnham's Freehold.
These cautionary tales are so omnipresent that they've almost become cliché. Sure, we're all afraid of the Bomb. Using it is clearly senseless. What else can/need be said?
So you can imagine my surprise (and not a little delight) at Star Trek's complete inversion of this theme with its latest episode, "A Taste of Armageddon".
Rather than the typical structure of two equally matched parties tensely avoiding conflict because of mutually assured destruction, instead the episode plunges us right into a Hot War. A hot but clean war with no real weapons, but innumerable calculated casualties.
"G-4" "It's a hit!"
To stave off the possibility of total annihilation from an ever-escalating conflict, the two superpowers (planets in this case) chose to guarantee destruction, but only of people. What a clever, callous twist! Not only is it a comment on how nations might paradoxically value their existence over their constituents (what is a country if not the people living in it?) but it also highlights that no matter how efficiently one conducts a war, the result is still death and ruin.
The only answer is peace. Five stars.
Getting to Know You
by Gideon Marcus
My colleagues have done an excellent job discussing the content of the episode, so I just want to note a few nifty things about its production.
One of the things that endears Star Trek to me is its ensemble nature. This was a particularly balanced episode that saw many of its principals shining (though Uhura still remains underused, and Sulu was absent this week). I was particularly impressed with Chief Engineer Scott's first televised turn at the helm, at which I thought he did just fine. It seems a little strange to have the engineers in line for the bridge's center seat, but the "Starfleet" of the "United Federation of Planets" (terms of art we're starting to hear more and more) seems a lot looser on branch distinctions than the U.S. Navy. Viz. Kevin Riley (is he still around?) moving from Engineering, to Navigation, to Communications–a path Lt. Uhura also seems to have traveled.
"I'll nae lower th' screens!"
This is the second time we've had a special Federation commissioner on board. While I did not appreciate Mr. Fox most of the time, I do appreciate that the Enterprise is often a courier as well as a scientific vessel and sometimes warship. The jack-of-all-trades cruiser-like nature of the ship allows for a wide variety of interesting stories.
Joe Pevney has returned to take up the director's megaphone. He and Marc Daniels appear to have most put their imprimatur on this fledgling show, and they have yet to really disappoint (sometimes scripts let them down, of course). A name I am seeing more is Gene L. Coon, usually in co-writing credits. I've seen him all over television, particularly on Laredo, COMBAT!, and Wagon Train. I'm sure there are others I've missed/forgotten. Along with his arrival, I'm noticing a minor change in tone. Trek feels less like an anthology show that happens to have consistent characters, and more like its own entity–a lived-in universe.
I suppose it was inevitable that, as the world of Trek became established, folks not attached to the show would want to become part of the phenomenon, particularly in light of the big "Save Star Trek" campaign we saw at the end of last year. So it is no surprise that we are seeing our first Trek-specific clubs and even club 'zines.
Trek has been guaranteed at least one more season. I look forward not only to more great episodes like this one (I give it a solid four stars), but also to learning more about the inhabitants and worlds that populate it!
Something WEIRD is going on. Join us tonight at 8:30 PM (Eastern and Pacific) for what looks like it will be a very strange episode of Star Trek:
Here's the invitation!
Well acted, well directed, good message. I enjoyed it a lot. On the surface, a very good episode. As long as you don't think about the premise too much or start pulling at the loose threads of the story.
Like Erica, I wonder about the lack of protestors or resisters. Maybe they've all long since been declared casualties and rounded up. Are Anan 7's political opponents more likely to be ordered to report for disintegration? The selection of casualties doesn't seem to be geographically based, since she has been listed as dead, while nobody else around her at the time of the attack suffers the same fate.
Perhaps my biggest problem is that deaths, whether civilian or military, might actually be the least important metric for measuring a war. An unfortunate lesson of the Great War is that a severely injured enemy combatant is of more use than a dead one. His care and recuperation cost a lot more than a burial and small survivor's benefit payment and also tie up not only doctors and nurses, but also the people who cook, clean, perform maintenance and even administrators. We should hear about factories and mines that have to be shut down and dismantled with most of the materials used to build them being disintegrated. And on and on and on.
This conflict hasn't just removed the horrors of war, it's removed most of the costs and unpleasantness. No wonder they never felt any need to negotiate for peace.
"It seems a little strange to have the engineers in line for the bridge’s center seat, but the “Starfleet” of the “United Federation of Planets” (terms of art we’re starting to hear more and more) seems a lot looser on branch distinctions than the U.S. Navy. "
This https://www.quora.com/What-is-the-command-hierarchy-on-a-typical-submarine suggests that the submarine Engineering Officer is a line officer – meaning he can take command under the appropriate circumstances. This seems an appropriate analogy for the Enterprise.
Quite a bit of this teleplay's interest and impact depends on the lines delivered by David Opatoshu, who was an excellent casting choice. His voice and demeanor possess the gravity necessary to make the story real. Absent his contribution, you wouldn't have much but some low-level explosion effects, etc. If this teleplay succeeds, as I think it does for most of us, Opatoshu deserves much of the credit.
Perhaps the most openly allegorical episode of the series yet. Like many a "Twilight Zone," it's not exactly subtle, but it certainly gets its point across about the dehumanizing effect of modern warfare.
I swear, what did the galaxy do before Kirk and Company came along to save the day? At least the Eminiarians didn't expand their war into other systems over the last 500 years, which cannot be said for other conflicts in the Star Trek universe.