A tale of two Cardassians
This is what good writing looks like.
[In this post, I’ll be spoiling the details of a 30 year old TV show. If that doesn’t concern you, by all means, please read on.]
Among all the Star Trek series, Deep Space Nine holds a special place in my heart. No only did it successfully break the mold of classic Star Trek (real conflict among main characters, not set on a starship, long story arcs, lots of politics), but it also featured some of the best writing in Trek history. You could see that in particular episodes, such as “Duet” (one of my favorite episodes of any TV show), as well as the plotlines and character development that unfolded across multiple episodes and seasons. Deep Space Nine, in all these ways, demonstrated originality and maturity that much of modern Trek (a.k.a. “nuTrek”) lacks.
Star Trek is a very character-driven form of television. For example, in the original series, we saw Spock struggle with both his human and Vulcan halves. Similarly, in the Next Generation, Data tried to figure out how to be a sentient machine among his biological crewmates, and Worf also grappled with finding his place as both a Klingon and a Federation officer. In Deep Space Nine, even more than the first two series, there were many outstanding characters, who were more than just a collection of personality quirks, hobbies, catch phrases, and a lot of emoting — the sort of lazy stabs at “characterization” that are the hallmarks of bad script writing. They were distinct from the usual sorts of characters you see in space opera, with deeper and more complex personalities and histories. And you got to see them change over the course of several seasons.
The two best examples from Deep Space Nine are Elim Garak and Gul Dukat. Both are Cardassians, but they are very different people.
“Especially the lies”
When we first see Garak, he’s an enigma. After the Cardassians retreated from their occupation of Bajor, they also evacuated their space station, Terok Nor…But for some reason, Garak stayed behind. He is the proprietor of a tailor shop on the station, but it’s clear that he’s no simple tailor, all of his protestations to the contrary. It would be as if, when the Nazis surrendered Paris, a German shopkeeper, whom everyone suspected was an agent of the Gestapo or the Abwehr, decided to remain.
Over the course of the show, we find out more and more about Garak. He definitely was a spy, but is he still working for the Obsidian Order, Cardassia’s powerful espionage agency. He says he loves Cardassia, even powerful individuals in the Cardassian government clearly hate him. He still thinks like a spy, acts like a spy, and sometimes gleefully uses his tradecraft to help the Federation and Bajor — but given the opportunity, would he go back to his old job, as a Cardassian operative?
Eventually, Garak proves himself to be a noble character, an important participant in the rebellion against the Cardassian government and the Dominion. But along the way, we also see how ruthless Garak can be. In fact, his ruthlessness is one of the pillars of what many fans consider to be Deep Space Nine’s best episode, “In The Pale Moonlight.” Garak has no qualms about killing, betrayal, or deceit. (After phasering someone into oblivion, he remarks, “Some people should never be promoted.”) He is also not only a practiced liar, but a grandmaster of mendacity. (His reaction to hearing the story of the boy who cried wolf? The moral, according to Garak, is that you should never tell the same lie twice.)
By the end of the show, we understand more about Garak, but not everything about him. Here’s the final exchange between him and Dr. Bashir:
Bashir: You know, I still have a lot of questions to ask you about your past.
Garak: I have given you all the answers I'm capable of.
Bashir: You've given me answers all right; but they were all different. What I want to know is, out of all the stories you told me, which ones were true and which ones weren't?
Garak: My dear Doctor, they’re all true.
Bashir: Even the lies?
Garak: Especially the lies.
Truly, there’s no one else like Garak.
The success of this character is owed, in large part, to the actor who played him. Andrew Robinson clearly enjoyed playing the role, of a spy who enjoys being a spy. Robinson could be charming, funny, and frightening, all in the same scene. And he was so enthusiastic for the role, he wrote an entire novel, A Stitch In Time, as backstory for it.
“Everything I have lost I will regain”
Gul Dukat was cut from very different cloth. Where Garak grew more and more into someone we could like and respect, Dukat proved himself ultimately to be a monster.
At the start of the series, Dukat is the former commander of the space station during the occupation. He’s on the fringes of episodes, the face of the Cardassian government, which would dearly love to regain control of Terok Nor and Bajor.
It’s clear that there was a lot of blood on his hands from his years in command of the station, but we didn’t know the extent of his crimes. That made it possible for him to occasionally show traits that made him mildly sympathetic. He loves his daughter (kind of). During the war between Cardassia and the Klingon Empire, he’s courageous and dedicated. He’s even sometimes the author of a wry witticism (but nowhere near the volume or quality of Grak’s). He’s sometimes helpful, and even an ally. But increasingly, from season to season, we see how depraved he truly is.
We see Dukat fall into disgrace, then claw his way back into favor again. It’s clear that his ambition is what he loves the most — more than family, more than Cardassia. But it’s a particularly dark form of ambition, one based on his need to be recognized as a great man. Just how perverse this need for recognition is becomes clear in the episode, “Waltz.”
Dukat has other warped impulses. He has a strange fetish for Bajoran woman (including Major Kira, the second in command of Deep Space Nine), the kind of kink for the local women that many brutal occupiers develop. He’s willing to sacrifice his Cardassian-hood just to get revenge on the people who have wronged him. He’s willing to open the gates for the imprisoned dark gods of Bajor to escape. And he’d rather be the supreme leader of Cardassia, even if he’s under the heel of the Dominion, than be anything else. By the end of the series, Dukat has turned into a completely soulless creature, animated only by ambition and hate.
Mark Alaimo, who played Dukat, was also largely responsible for his character’s success. He skillfully displayed Dukat’s unctuousness, monomania, menace, and brutality. He made it convincing that Dukat believed he was the hero of the story, which is one of the traits of the most interesting villains. Here’s a defining Dukat quote:
A true victory is to make your enemy see they were wrong to oppose you in the first place. To force them to acknowledge your greatness.
When you become engaged with and even invested in characters like Garak and Dukat, that’s good writing. Part of that engagement is not knowing exactly who they really are, or what they’ll do or be next. But, in the hands of good writers after characters reveal themselves a little bit more, that step in their character development makes sense. That’s no small feat, and should be a lesson in screen writing for that the creators of Star Trek, or any entertainment on the small screen, should study. And ultimately, Garak and Dukat are a lot of fun to watch.