The Finale of Avatar The Last Airbender and Pacifism
(Full Spoilers for Avatar: The Last Airbender)
Avatar: The Last Airbender(2005–2008) has a four-episodes long grand finale. (Season 3 Episodes 18–21) The one half of it is concerned with Aang trying to reconcile his pacifism with having to kill Fire Lord Ozai, and the other half is the final showdown. This showdown is famous for a lot of things, mostly praiseworthy, but also commonly receives two points of criticism: Aang’s Avatar state being activated out of nowhere and Aang’s eleven-hour ability of “energy-bending”, absorbing Fire Lord’s powers and thus being able to stop him without having to killing him.
Neither of these is a problem to me.
The final episode have such a good tempo that there isn’t too much room to think about the plot contrivances. Also, I have consumed enough media to subconsciously accept grandiose finales of this kind, there is nothing really wrong with magic just being magic sometimes. Most importantly, it is a thematically fulfilling finale:
First, it is not unearned. Aang discovers energy-bending precisely thanks to a ruthless commitment to his philosophy. it’s not like he was dragging his feet out of squeamishness, he is aware what is needed to be done, he is just determined to find an alternate way like he always does.
Second, the show doesn’t bend(heh) its world to push a message: There is just no easy way to make the Fire Nation recognize Zuko as the new ruler as long as the old one is up and going. However, Fire King’s mandate is based on being able to fire-bend. Even better, nothing about this is explicitly stated, instead it silently rewards attentive viewers.
Third, Aang is not only the Avatar, but also the sole representative of his people. Understandably, this would make it much difficult to compromise with his values. Especially when he is fighting someone who is about to repeat an atrocity that has befallen to his people the first time. Aang is not being selfish, not entirely at least, he is carrying an age-old heritage on his back.
Fourth, because Aang’s struggle is very personal, I am not too concerned with agreeing with his stance all that much. This is good because pacifism is a little weird. In the abstract I fully agree with it, but people who espouse anti-violence and respect often reduce the world to just a series of moral encounters, and demonstrate a great deal of ignorance towards structural violence. However, this doesn’t make fiction defending pacifism bad. Fiction does not have to conform to the totality of my worldview, that would make me unable to enjoy most things. Fiction can also explore ethical scenarios that doesn’t map easily to any real-world counterpart. We also need to give consideration to the culture climate the show has aired. Back then, it was very easy to find someone casually defending things like torture or mass-bombing on TV, a children’s show having a you-shall-not-kill stance isn’t that bad. Furthermore, even though I don’t happen to agree with the specifics, it is always satisfying to watch a hero put their feet down and say “saving the world” does not justify everything.
In isolation, ATLA’s final is amazing and deserves every praise it gets. And I am perfectly fine with its messages, as long as it the show’s premises naturally leads to that conclusion.
And herein lies a problem. Three of them, actually, but they all converge in a single, central issue.
1. Aang performs deadly actions
In Northern Air Temple (Season 1 Episode 17), Aang blows a huge pile of snow on a couple dozen climbing Fire Nation soldiers, collapsing the ground they are in. They presumably fall all the way to the ground, from a place where we can see the clouds. After that, we only see a four or five of soldiers running away. Since the show usually puts a great importance to make it clear that people stay unharmed during fights, the contrast strongly indicate that the fallen soldiers are gone, at the very least, Aang does not put a lot of care into that.
In The Siege of the North Part 2 (Season 1 Episode 20), Aang fuses with the ocean spirit and sends huge waves on Fire Nation ships, completely drowning them under water. Even if we accept Aang is fully unconscious during the affair, he still aids a very angry spirit to enact revenge. The very next episode acknowledges the dangerous violence of Avatar state, so Aang himself does not excuse “accidents.” In the episode before the final fight (Season 3 Episode 18), he argues that Avatar Kyoshi’s murder of Chin the Conqueror might be an accident purely, but when she rebukes him, he can’t say anything back, because he is fully aware this is just a cop out.
In Sozin’s Comet, Part 3: Into the Inferno (Season 3 Episode 19), Aang blasts a wave of fire to an airship. It takes considerable damage and crashes to the rock formations not too far from the height they are flying. While it is not certain that the crew is dead, Aang’s behavior here stands out so much next to the gargantuan efforts he goes into making sure that the Genocide Guy isn’t dead.
2. Aang faces with the same dilemma before, but the show does not address it.
Fire-bending comes from sun, so during solar eclipses, you can’t do it.. To use this for their advantage, the good guys attempt an invasion to the Fire Nation capital. (Season 3 Episodes 10–11). An episode before, Aang suffers from nightmares because he is not sure he is ready to face the Fire Admin. There is no indication of a moral conflict in these episodes, Aang is just determined to defeat the king.
3. Aang’s allies kill people
In at least three very notable moments:
In Northern Air Temple, Sokka and the engineer guy’s invention cause a huge explosion eliminating a battalion of tanks. Unlike previous attempts to stop the tanks, we don’t get to see what happens to their crew. Yep, they are gone. Very triumphantly too.
In Western Air Temple (Season 3 Episode 12), during the attack of the three-eyed bald assassin, Sokka throws his boomerang and hits the guy. His laser beam eye malfunctions, causing him to explode and leave nothing behind but his metal arm. This is rather peculiar, because the Avatar gang does not see Sokka’s boomerang hitting him, no, they thank Zuko for defeating him. We can safely infer that Aang has no problem with Zuko killing a person, since from his perspective what else could have happened?
In Sozin’s Comet Part 3: Into the Inferno Sokka, Toph and Suki captures an enemy airship, eject its crew to the water safely and ram it into a whole group of airships, with appropriately violent explosions. In the later episode, we see the remains of the ships burning on the sea surface. There is no such scene where the crew members hug the water with minimal injury this time. It defies all reason to assert that no one is harmed here.
We can observe something all across these events: Our heroes put great care into non-deadly solutions, until the show decides that it does not matter. In particular, the fate of Ozai only seems to be an issue when Zuko demands an answer from Aang In short, the events of the show and its themes are in deep, clear conflict.
Even at the moment of writing this, I am a little doubtful of this observation. Because among so many essays, discussions, blogs and takes about ATLA, I have yet to seen a single person talking about anything related to this. Yet, when we look at the show holistically, I can’t help but see something fishy. This demands an answer. I can think of four of different viewpoints that can gives us one: Literal, technical, cultural and personal.
Literal answer: I am reading too much into this
In other words, people only die in this show when it explicitly says so.
This is simply ridiculous.
Even with the most generous reading, the characters still act quite recklessly in light of their previous actions and stated principles. Aang chooses to send a fireball to that ship just as firmly as when he redirects the lightning away from the Fire Tsar. This is the same Aang that gives up fire-bending for two seasons because he fears to hurt people. Sokka rams his airship into the armada just as deliberately as when he devises a plan to peacefully get rid of the ship’s crew. Even people who clearly don’t hesitate violence still avoid to kill whenever they can.
However, the real problem with this answer is that it turns this show into a joke. This is a work that deals with loss of pain, the human cost of war, imperialism and genocide. Aang sees the bare skeleton of his father figure. “Don’t think about the things you see” is an insult to both the audience and creators. No, this is a better story than Valkryia Chronicles(2008), thank you very much.
I love reading too much into media. This is not reading too much. Being distracted by the action and character drama is notwithstanding, all of my observations are pretty straightforward.
Technical answer: It was just a mistake
They just didn’t think about the implications. For example, the creators and, really, the audience too knew that Aang wasn’t going to defeat the king in the middle of the season, so we didn’t have to think about the moral question for the time being.
Yet I don’t find this answer all that interesting. I don’t write articles just to point out mistakes in the show, it’s always much more interesting to me to think beyond “intention/mistake” dichotomy. There are no true accidents in a finished work, a story always creates its own meaning one way or another.
Cultural answer: In stories, nameless people don’t matter
Something we instinctively expect from fiction is that it should make the characters interesting enough to care about what happens to them in a story. A creator cannot just clap their hands and put the audience into whatever mood necessary for the scene. Obviously no, it is not sad when an alien monster eats a nameless guy, it’s usually goofy. This doesn’t mean the audience is sadistic, it’s just means the story does not care about depicting the fictional disaster as something to be taken seriously.
But the opposite can be also a huge problem. If the story is about how nameless masses are thoughtlessly consumed in the goals of the villains, it’s not right when the designated good characters do the same thing. This is rightly criticized in video games, yet it is also weirdly common in media that isn’t limited by game design concerns In Star Wars, it is nice to watch Luke desperately trying to see the light in his father but it becomes much less heartwarming when he first also end up slaying bunch of nobodies in the same movie.
It is so hard to take seriously when ATLA spends two whole episodes on morality of murder without ever addressing the elephant in the room. How is the life of the Massacre Man so special in the climax of a hundred year war? Who knows how many Fire Nation conscripts who can’t even fire-bend are dead because of the royal family’s ambition?. The implication that I should value a cruel monster’s life solely due to their proximity to main characters would turn ATLA into yet another mediocre story where the main character can be rewarded with moral purity in complete isolation from their actions and events, because we are demanded to accept that the universe is being reduced to only named characters. (Again Valkryia Chronicles rears its ugly head)
However, this assessment is too harsh. For the most part ATLA has enough depth to avoid being an hypocritical anti-violence tale. There is certainly something more interesting here.
Personal Answer: ATLA is a subversion of pacifism
Throughout the show, we see again and again that despite advising others to the same thing, Aang only hold himself as responsible for being a pacifist.. He is perfectly aware that people die in wars, he does not completely reject having to kill someone to stop a world-ending threat, his concern is to stay loyal to his way of life as much as he can.
Even within these limitations, the philosophy of anti-violence is seriously challenged in Puppetmaster(Season 3 Episode 8). The Avatar team is against Hama’s path of revenge and vicious blood-bending but in the end, Katara is forced to use blood-bending and Bad Extremist Minority is punished by to being locked in the dungeons of her oppressors, the very dungeons that pushed her towards a life of hatred in the first place. She gets no closure, no second chances, no redemption; for the crime of actually killing no one. In comparison, the show depicts someone like Iroh as a wise person who has learned from his mistakes, even though he actually led wars and undoubtedly caused many deaths.
From this, we start to see anti-violence in a different light. In contrast to Hama whose life have entirely subjugated to pain, Aang remains in near total control. He is always capable and lucky enough to avoid having to fight with all his might. The one time he is truly forced to into a corner, he is blessed with two miracles to non-lethally subdue the king. On top of that, he has the support of an unchallenged claimant to the throne, so he can establish an era of peace without having to do anything truly dirty. Aang is able to uphold pacifism insofar he can dominate over life, exercising both soft and hard power whenever appropriate.
In ATLA, pacifism is not a matter of compassion, importance of dialogue, idealism or even preservation of Air Nomad culture. It is a pure expression of power to pacify others into peace. Anything else is only complimentary. Avatar Roku’s mistake is not his mercy towards King Sozin, it’s his inability to sufficiently tame the Fire Nation. Hama is wrong because she pursues vain revenge instead of using her power for things that actually matter. The Punished King has many opportunities to stop the war, but he chooses glory of conquest instead. Hama and Ozai earn a similar fate because they are both swayed by their petty emotions instead of embracing responsibility; the differences in their beliefs and circumstances are almost entirely irrelevant.
This reading feels quite cold for a show that’s often lighthearted. Particularly Hama’s fate feels so dissonantly cruel. Yet it makes sense for a setting where some people are more powerful than others by birthright. Only Avatar can restore the balance, for only they are powerful enough to keep the world in harmony, by any means necessary. I still this reading the most and even consider it a positive one, because it reveals what kind of assumptions one needs to make in order to arrive at a worldview like that in our world.
It also implies that, for all it’s enthusiasm and respect of Asian cultures, ATLA is still an American show to its core, which is quite funny.
This article is written thanks to my dearest Patrons and special thanks to: Acelin, Laura Watson, MasterofCubes, Makkovar, Morgan, Otakundead , Sasha and Spencer Gill.
