Let Dune Radicalise You.

More than half a century after Frank Herbert penned his science fiction epic, the trailer for Dune: Part One had Paul Atreides declare that a crusade was coming. This stood antithetical to Herbert’s work which enveloped itself in Arabic and Muslim allegory and inspiration, calling Paul's prophesized rise a “Jihad.” The films themselves do not shy away from the source material, still serving as a subversive deconstruction of the White Saviour trope: a trope that itself reflects Western Exceptionalism. However, both the initial trailer and widespread Western acclaim for the recent adaptations have made one thing very clear: should the Western Bourgeois be appeased, they will never question whether or not the entertainment before them exists to invalidate themselves and their world views.

Dune is an Islamic Crusade.

A Hellenist Jihad.

An unholy matrimony.

Dune is timeless mythology, art imitating life that in turn seeks enlightenment in art. Dune is about the power of myth, of narrative and how it shapes reality, how it defines us and how we go on to define it.

“The day the flesh shapes and the flesh the day shapes.” (Dune, 1965)

Part 1: Centralizing the “Other”

“And I will make thy seed to multiply as the stars of heaven, and will give unto thy seed, all these countries and in thy seed, shall all the nations of the earth, be blessed” (Genesis 26:4 KJV) 

The story of Paul Atreides is that of Ishmael: the first son of Abraham and his concubine Hagar. In modern Judaism and Christianity, the stars are the lineage of Abraham's second son, Isaac: the grandfather of The Twelve Tribes of Israel. Just as Abraham's descendants could be counted by the stars, the lineage of Leto I Atreides spread throughout the stars as his son and grandson ruled as consecutive emperors of the Known Universe. While Jesus Christ was a descendant of Isaac, the Prophet Muhammad was a descendant of Ishmael. With this single allusion to Ishmael, Herbert challenges the eurocentrism of his intended audience.

The novel Dune is a modernist work in that it uses the guise of a Hellenistic epic (a story of a hero with an ancient Greek name) to present Islam and the Arab perspective as the central truth of its world. The Islamic nature of Dune goes beyond what is found within the text.

Frank Herbert has long been criticized for his unconventional literary style, many taking issue with his sporadic shifts in perspective, long tangents, and non-chronological narrative that spoils key moments of the story. However, he had stated that his intention was for it to be re-read multiple times, continually providing the reader with a deeper understanding of the work. Thus, there must be a reason for his style. Said reason is found in the protagonist Paul Atreides. Paul's burgeoning abilities as both a computational mentat and the Kwisatz Haderach is the perspective that the novel conveys through its style. He can see and computate the past of his ancestors along with any potential futures.

The writing style is unfamiliar to the readers. Dune is written to reflect how Paul views the world. Paul, who, in his slumber, attained the omniscience of seeing the present across the entirety of Arrakis and came to understand the land. Paul, who was shackled by his deification, unable to escape the power that came with being the Lisan al Gaib, lived as a prophet of the Fremen. The story is written as if it came from the perspective of someone becoming utterly enveloped in a culture, not only inspired by the real-world Bedouin but, who are in-universe descendants of Sunni Muslims. It once more forces the readers to decentralize, to decolonize their minds, in order to understand this culture. The reader cannot make it easier for their own way of life.

Each chapter of the novel contains an epigraph framed as an excerpt, from the in-universe writings of Paul's consort, the Princess Irulan, her essays centring around the life and teachings of Muad’Dib. These are indicative of the Hadith: reports of the life and teachings of the Prophet Muhammad. Through his writing style, Frank Herbert presented his readers with not just a Muslim story but religious scripture. For the trailer to replace even the single word “Jihad” with “Crusade” for the sake of Western sensibilities is a destructive, colonial act.

“Translation means doing violence upon the original, means warping and distorting it for foreign unintended eyes.” (Babel, 2022)

It is also important to recognize that Herbert's portrayal of the indigenous Fremen did not adhere to orientalist ideas of noble savages. Their religion and way of life does not inhibit their scientific capabilities as seen through their work to slowly terraform the deserts of Arrakis into arable land. Herbert recognized the ingenuity and the significance of the Arab world in humanity's development, particularly that of the Islamic Golden Age. While the story would go on to criticize the thinking behind the desire to terraform in some part through Liet-Kynes, the truth is undeniable that the Fremen are every bit as intelligent and civilized as their colonial occupiers. They are even shown in the novel to bribe the Spacing Guild, clearly not falling prey to uncivilized superstition.

The recent films, however, make this truth less explicit, especially in its rewrite of Chani, the daughter of Imperial Planetologist Liet-Kynes, who had been rewritten into a sceptical anti-fundamentalist. On one hand, this rewrite makes her far more compelling than her novel counterpart, and it helps present Paul's rise as the fall that it truly is. It makes Paul’s proposal to Irulan more explicitly a symbol of him embracing his role as a colonizer.

However, this new Chani comes with problematic implications, specifically in regards to her accent. While Javier Bardem keeps his Spanish accent, it contrasts with the American accents of the Atreides and the Corrinos. It is easier to “other.” Chani even points out his different accent as signifying that he's from the religiously fundamentalist south. Thus, despite Chani’s loyalty to her people and heritage, allowing Zendaya to maintain her American accent gives her the voice of the colonizers.

When she is the only person at the end of the second film shown to walk away from Paul's interstellar Jihad, it creates an association between correct progressivism and the West. That progressivism’s dichotomy with backwards conservatism can be signified through Oriental signifiers. It adheres to the idea that, while the rest of the world should not be ruthlessly subjugated, they still have indigenous primitivism. That it is, the West's duty to educate the “Other.” Western liberals can criticize oppressive regimes and overtly negative colonization so long as said oppression is obvious. And most importantly does not imply that the audience, with their Western accents, would not recognize if the modern colonizer is in the wrong. 

Part Two: Decolonizing the Narrative.

From birth, Paul was to be the Kwisatz Haderach, his destiny shaped by the Bene Gesserit who secretly controlled the politics of the Empire. The Bene Gesserit are not only visually coded as Christian nuns, but are also named after the real-world Catholic order of the Jesuits. Their scheming across the Universe was inspired by the work of Christian missionaries: itself a liberal form of Western colonization that presents itself as a positive. Their ultimate goal is to breed a powerful ruler to manipulate, one who will politically and genetically unite the houses. They want the loss of diversity and the enforcement of a singular power. They want to colonize the stars.

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Spoilers for Dune Messiah and Children of Dune

At the end of Dune Messiah, Paul, a broken and blinded god, walks off into the desert and chooses to die a mortal man. This humbling final act as the mortal Paul Muad’Dib, a Fremen custom for the blind people, is his salvation from the agony of godhood and the Golden Path. He was no Lawrence of Arabia, but instead became Arabian himself, more Oriental than Occidental in the end. It was the first moment in his life in which he was not a colonizer: one trained by the Bene Gesserit and raised as an Atreides.

He failed the spiritual Gom Jabbar test. The physical test did not simply determine if one was human, but rather if they were susceptible to Bene Gesserit control, and were able and willing to put aside their pain in knowledge of a greater truth or mission. He withstood more pain than any other, this being reflected in his later actions. It was enough for him to embrace the Jihad as a homogenization of mankind, but he could not push forward along the Golden Path. Walking into the desert was akin to gnawing off his hand to escape a trap.

In returning as the nameless blind preacher in Children of Dune, he fights against the colonial influence of the Bene Gesserit and the belief that one can assert their will onto others and the world. His murder at the hands of Alia’s priests is described matter-of-factly, Kafkaesque in its presentation. It is objective and insignificant. In the end, his deified triumphs are grounded by the feats of his son, his Ozymandian irrelevancy being the very freedom that he so desperately longed for. His life was reduced to a children's story. Dune Messiah follows Paul on Arrakis, never showing us the atrocities committed in his name. We only see the Messiah and must take his word in the face of the narrator refusing to oblige him. The man is a slave to the narrative.

 “The flesh surrenders itself. Eternity takes back its own. Our bodies stirred these waters briefly, danced with a certain intoxication before the love of life and self, dealt with a few strange ideas, then submitted to the instruments of Time. What can we say of this? I occurred. I am not… yet, I occurred.” (Dune Messiah, 1969)

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The conflict between Muad’Dib and the Great Houses was a holy war, a religious Jihad, and Paul would spend the rest of his life fighting against his story being shaped by the Bene Gesserit: the stand-in for Christianity. In embracing his Arab identity and taking the name of Paul Muad’Dib Usul, he takes on the lifelong struggle of his life being formed around a Western perspective, of being made supplementary to the Western standard. And while Christianity did originate in the Levant, and holds great cultural significance to this day, its predominant form in the Modern Age is as an aspect of Western culture.

The shaping of the narrative is not limited to the art, it is imitated in life through the very advertisement for the 2021 film, cleansing the exotic palette of the novel for a more digestible experience for modern audiences. While the film is faithful to the novel in many ways, the Muslim inspiration is significantly toned down in all ways but the aesthetic. The Fremen's explicit descendancy from real-world Bedouin (what they call “Sunni from Nilotic al-Ourouba”) is never mentioned. The word “Jihad” is never uttered once. Add on to that the lack of Arabic speaking actors in predominant Fremen roles and it becomes far easier for the American viewer to detach it from reality and embrace the fantasy.

“Dreams make good stories, but everything happens when we're awake. Because that's when we make things happen” (Dune, 2021) 

“The mystery of life is… a reality to experience.” (Dune, 1965)

The marketing imitates not only the manipulation that Paul faces, but his and his mother Jessica's manipulation of the Fremen, taking advantage of the false prophecy of Lisan al Gaib to attain power and take revenge on the Harkonnens. The roots of the Jihad were politically motivated, shaped around the Occident, for at the end of it all, the mother and son were Harkonnen by blood. They were always colonizers whose allegiances were to themselves. 

In the second film. When he learns of and embraces his Harkonnen heritage, he wears a black cloak: the colour of the Harkonnens. Wearing this, he declares to the masses of followers that he is the Voice from the Outer World, knowingly taking advantage of their faith. He gains power through his colonial position as he raises his father's ducal signet. The struggle of the Arab exists to supplement the West. Even Paul's father, Leto Atreides, for as noble as the film adaptation portrays him as, wished to recruit Fremen as “desert power” against any potential attack from the Imperium.

Chani comforts Paul by saying “You will never lose me Paul Atreides. Not as long as you stay who you are.” She uses his full name: the name that he uses when he declares himself the Duke of Arrakis. “Duke” is a term that the Fremen do not have. It is a term of the Imperium, one being forced onto the Fremen. He was always Paul Atreides. He was always a colonizer whether or not Chani was willing to see it. 

Colonization, by its very nature, implies that one is centre to the world: that one can assert their identity onto others and nature. The latter is seen through Liet-Kynes and his father. Yet Kynes is ultimately killed by nature. In the novel, it is a surprise spice blow, while in the film, it is a willing sacrifice at the hands of Shai-Hulud. While the latter is more entertaining and cinematic, the former paints a clearer picture of how small man truly is.

Herbert recognized the interconnectedness of colonialism and industrialization as seen through Giedi Prime; the home world of the Harkonnens. The planet had become an amalgamation of cities and factories, completely reshaped by industrialization to the point where it had permanently reduced photosynthesis levels. What Herbert saw as a feudalist warping of free-market capitalism (that being the desire for ownership over property, both living and non-living) is at the heart of what drives colonialism. Mankind's expansion did not make it taller, only fat and grotesque. The Baron exemplifies this, having become so fat and grotesque that he could not support his weight without anti-gravity devices. The system will collapse without expansion and further industrialization: further machinery. The more mankind changed, the more it stayed the same. One cannot deny the obvious allegory of spice to oil. He who controls the spice controls the universe. When the second film shows the Baron's corpse abandoned in the desert, it is covered in ants; the very animals that the Harkonnen spice harvesters resembled. The system will slowly devour itself.

Paul accepts with a heavy heart the role that he had been thrusted into, that his legend had taken hold of him and stripped him of his free will. His jihadists look to him as a voice of God, a messiah, but the Jihad would continue with or without him. For all his power, he could not escape his fate. This is embodied in one of Dune: Part Two's greatest adaptational decisions. In removing Alia from the film, the Baron's death had to be changed to a scene in which Paul confronted the Baron and called him “grandfather.” In the novel, Paul had a vision of a possible future in which he said those exact words but chose to avoid it. Here, it came to pass. Fatalism dictated him, no matter the path he took.

That is why the series is called "Dune": it is the Fremen name of the planet, not the colonizer’s. The West is anything but a centre, and the planet, nature, will outlive them all. The canonical reasoning behind the Fremen's strength and the Atreides's weakness was their upbringing: the planets on which they were raised. The flesh, the day shaped. The world's narrative encompasses all of them. This was never Paul's story, nor was it his son’s, or even the Fremen’s.

“Indeed I know it is so, for whoever is tallest among men cannot reach the heavens, and the greatest cannot encompass the Earth.” (The Epic of Gilgamesh)

The novel is often criticized for its abrupt ending. Yet the abruptness reflects the idea that a mortal's life is anything but significant. It connects to one of the collected sayings of Muad’dib:

“Arrakis teaches the attitude of the knife - chopping off what's incomplete and saying: ‘Now, it's complete because it's ended here.’” -from “Collected Sayings of Muad’Dib” by the Princess Irulan (Dune, 1965)

In the second film, the sound of waves can be heard as Feyd and Paul prepare to fight: the very scene in which Paul recognizes how there would be no difference should he live or die. No matter what Paul does, his legend will fuel the Jihad. He promises to bring Paradise, green bliss, in the memory of Liet-Kynes. In the novel, Shaddam and Paul describe it as a garden with rivers, similar to how the Quran describes Jannah. Paul says that “God created Arrakis to train the faithful,” invoking the Muslim idea of “shahadat” (that being “martyrdom”). He, as a false prophet, promises to create a paradise on earth. This colonial power play is made explicit in Dune Messiah, in which a historian imprisoned for heresy describes Paul's actions as such:

“He promised to transform your desert planet into a water-rich paradise. And while he dazzled you with such visions, he took your virginity! (Dune Messiah, 1969)

The colonizer will control the narrative, but even he is insignificant before the world that he wishes to subjugate. The West is not a beacon of civilization and progress, but built upon the unstable backs of the subjugated.

There are three times in Dune: Part Two where we see Paul walk towards the camera. Each time we see him, he is further and further away, losing his individual identity.

The first time occurs right before drinking the Water of Life. Without eyes, we cannot see his soul. He has not gone that far yet, but he has begun to relinquish his control.

The second time is after he chooses to embrace the colonial power of being the “Mahdi,” when he decides to “win like a Harkonnen.” The sand worm behind him emphasizes this shot as a Fremen perspective. The image of Shai-Hulud dwarfs him, but he is still the centre focus. He is a prophet whose power extends beyond him.

The third time, he is dwarfed to the extreme not just by the desert but by the legion of fundamentalists behind him. The legend stands taller than the man. Paul Atreides is, paradoxically, insignificant. The Jihad cannot be stopped - not even by him. Paul ceases to exist, only the story remains: the idea of the Lisan al Gaib.

This motif was established in Dune: Part One after Paul killed Jamis, after which, the hands of the Fremen touched him. When this motif reoccurs in the second film, never again is Paul touched. Never again is he seen as “Paul, the man.”

Part Three: The Futility of Art

As shown, Villeneuve understands the themes of the narrative and is indeed a progressive. But the issue with these films comes not only in the explicit liberalization of these elements, but the overwhelming Western acclaim for them. This irony would not have come to my attention, if not for the climate surrounding the release of Dune: Part Two: that being the ongoing ethnic cleansing of the Gazan Palestinians by the settler colony of Israel. Over the three-day weekend of March 1-3, the film grossed 182.5 million US dollars, 82.5 million being domestic. One of the most popular and acclaimed American films in years, is about a Jihad of Arab and Muslim-coded Indigenous people against a genocidal, Western, colonial force looking to exploit the resources of their native land.

The Western world was engrossed in the Jihad and enamoured of the Mujahideen led by Zionist actor Timothee Chalamet in the role of Paul Atreides. None of the predominant roles in these films are played by actors from the Middle East or North Africa: the struggle is no longer the story of the struggler. It is this irony that brings to light the apathy of the Western world. It is this irony that led me to write this as I saw two colonial forces, one fictional the other horrifyingly real and falsely validated, ethnically cleansing Northern indigenous settlements before making their way South. 

The words that Paul Muad’Dib shouts to his Fremen army in the second film translates to “Long live the fighters.” The words themselves are of the fictional language Chakobsa. But the Chakobsa in the original novel used the Arabic words “yahya al-shuhada” translating to “long live the martyrs.” It is a direct reference to the Algerian Revolution, and connects to the very core of Jihad martyrdom: “shahadat.” This change is perhaps one of the most insulting liberal dullings of the novel's radical edge. “Long live the fighters” became the tagline to the second film in its marketing. Thus, it became akin to the first film's talk of a crusade. Another example of reshaping and liberalizing the Arab narrative. To the progressive West, it is acceptable to signify the Orient for the sake of inclusivity, but not to properly engage with it on any significant level.

Many Westerners who seemingly mean well, use the actions of the settler colony and Western powers to further their own politics. This is not limited to the recent ethnic cleansing, but has been true for all of modern American interventionism. Oriental suffering, remote suffering, that which is not immediately present, is weaponized as criticism against or in support for policies or candidates. One has to only look at the debates surrounding the 2024 United States election. It is always about the lesser of two evils, the crimes are quantified and processed by the American voters apathetically, entirely arbitrary and dependent on political agendas. And they will tout winning these elections as moral victories, for their worlds have remained comfortable, even at the unchanging expense of others.

“Scratch a conservative and you find someone who prefers the past over any future. Scratch a liberal and you find a closet aristocrat.” (God Emperor of Dune, 1981)

The suffering of the Other is never innately important to them, it must be shaped for Western digestion. Western colonialism and intervention is never presented as a systemic issue, but the actions of a single man. One bad president, Baron, Emperor, or heir to a duchy who should have never been given power. Reality is never so cut and dry. One of the key American ideals that Frank Herbert saw to challenge was its love of charismatic leaders and the passivity of the individual. What differed Fremen culture from the Imperium was its decentralization and emphasis on the collective over the individual. What made Stilgar’s character so tragic was his fall from being noble and charming to being a religious zealot.

The introduction of the Golden Path is not inconsistent with this. Much like Attack on Titan’s Rumbling, it was only necessary so long as mankind refused to develop critical faculties. So long as they remained wilfully ignorant, self-centred, and close-minded. Leto II lived to be overthrown, and that very fact is a tragedy that should have been avoided.

The Golden Path that would lead mankind out of stagnation was also a product of Paul and Leto's upbringing. When Paul tells Liet-Kynes of his plan to defeat the Harkonnens, he predicts the ending of the novel: his marriage to Princess Irulan. It brings into question the significance of Paul and Leto's status as aristocrats, how being in positions of privilege would affect how they go about their Golden Path. It speaks to their feelings of exceptionalism.

“No more terrible disaster could befall your people than for them to fall into the hands of a hero.” (Dune, 1965)

In regards to the marriage, Chani, in the novel, accepts the situation and remains faithful to her love. She was aware of what it would take to accomplish her father's dream (the dream of terraforming the planet), and what necessary politics were required. She, like Jessica, sacrificed for love, knowing that the marriage would help her people. However, Chani in the films recognizes it as Paul choosing to be a colonizer. In taking Irulan’s hand, he takes his place as their ruler from the outer world. Chani recognizes that the Fremen will never have true sovereignty.

This change also affects the significance of her name “Sihaya,” a name used lovingly by Paul in the novels. “Desert Springtime” heralded his green bliss, she completed his Fremen side and knew him intimately. She was his water abundant. But Chani in the films recognizes that the name itself makes her part of the colonizer's story. She rejects being orientated around him. Her opening monologue in the first film is replaced by Iruluan’s opening monologue in the second: the story of the colonised’s perspective is taken by the colonisers.

More importantly than the charismatic leader, Herbert challenged the notion of the remote being supplementary to the immediate. The universe-spanning civilization of Herbert's world had rejected thinking machines, choosing to expand their own consciousness rather than relying on computers: on the computations of others. Herbert sought to make the Westerner feel foreign through his writing, forcing them to expand their worldview and reject hedonism and self-importance. Languages of the Orient have always been supplementary, having to be translated to be understood. For their words to have meaning and worth, they must be in English. Even the Arab cultural movement known as the “Nahda” is translated as “Arab Renaissance.” The norm is the west and everything is filtered through them. Our very existence, the word “Arab,” becomes an adjective of differentiation. Of Othering.

But Dune tells the reader otherwise; it makes them feel as if the story was not written for them.  However, it seems that the legacy of Herbert's work is that of yet another opiate of the masses. Villeneuve’s adaptation succeeds in many places and exceeds the novel in others. However, I cannot help but recognize how depressingly ironic the success of his work is.

I was admittedly very obtuse in my arguments and, while I stand by my analyses and criticisms of the films, I recognize that Villeneuve is no doubt a progressive Leftist with anti-Zionist sentiments. The films have many directorial hints at Villeneuve’s unabashed radical beliefs. He has taken the original free-market Republican work and filtered it through a Leftist perspective. However, there are inevitable and discouraging outcomes. It released in a time of seemingly international concern for the anti-colonial Arab plight, yet its prominent impact has been as a piece of entertainment - of escapism. For all of his efforts, his films, like the novels they are based off, will be yet another performance existing solely to satiate the liberal progressives.

In Dune: Part Two, when Paul faces the Padishah Emperor Shaddam IV, the camera views Muad’dib from the eyes of the Emperor hidden by his Sardaukar. Paul as a masked embodiment of Arab Jihad, stares into the audience. It is the director drawing attention to the position of the Western bourgeois in foreign crises, ones that are constructed for the sake of their own benefit. It is the director asking you to think critically of your place.

An iconic shot from the film is Paul raising his crysknife as he rallies his legion of fundamentalists. It mirrors Feyd-Rautha doing the same in the Harkonnen arena as he performs for the crowd. For that is what a charismatic leader is: panem et circenses, a distraction to manipulate and make the masses docile. This is what the franchise has been shaped into. 

The Dune franchise, as works of art, is about how the day shapes the flesh and how the flesh shapes the day. And the most insulting thing that can be done for Herbert’s and Villeneuve’s ambitions is to consume it as entertainment whilst turning away from the atrocities that you are complacent in.

If this has done anything for you, then let it radicalize you in the face of utility. Let it encourage you to consider the deeper meanings of art. Let it help you decolonize your mind. 

“For what do you hunger, Lord? Moneo ventured. For a humankind which can make truly long-term decisions. Do you know the key to that ability Moneo? You have said it many times, Lord. It is the ability to change your mind.” (God Emperor Dune, 1981)