Anyone who calls themselves the Messiah, pretty clearly isn’t the Messiah. This statement seems so obvious that it almost doesn’t bear repeating; satires like The Life of Brian have made this truism a joke. But considering the history of self-proclaimed Messiahs and their ultimate defeats, from Simon Bar-Kochba and Sabbatai Zevi, to Sun Myung Moon and David Koresh, anyone who calls themselves the Messiah should be considered immediately suspect.
Gaius Baltar gets the rank of Messiah foisted upon him. Baltar’s role on the rebooted Battlestar Galactica of the 2000s is neither heroic nor villainous, a distinct break from the strict black-and-white morality of the original 1978 series. Where Count Baltar was a quisling and a villain, Gaius Baltar demonstrates divided loyalties, profound survivors’ guilt, and an overwhelming sense of purposelessness. He falls ass-backward into the role of Messiah.
More important than how he became Messiah, however, is what message he purveyed. Speaking to his crowd of mostly-female acolytes, like a more sexually voracious Mary and Martha, Baltar preaches a very extemporaneous, and often contradictory Gospel. God (singular) wants peace, but also for adherents to defend themselves. Resist the authorities, but not with violence, except when violence prevails. I found the contradictions familiar from Sunday School.
I also found the motivation familiar from reading religious theory. Throughout the first three seasons, the story highlighted a singular, state-focused religion. Despite the nominally democratic government, power received its imprimatur from the priesthood, and the priesthood received protection from the state. Sectarian divisions existed, but were easily ignored. In the Twelve Colonies, righteousness and lawfulness were essentially equal… for three seasons.
Series co-creator Ronald D. Moore states, in DVD commentary, that the rebooted vision wasn’t originally about religion, but became so after a throwaway comment in the pilot miniseries. The pilot contained stray references to religion; President Roslin was sworn into office by a priest, for instance, and Caprica Six name-dropped God. The miniseries used these items as set-dressing, though. Only in the ultimate open-ended series did religious themes become dominant.
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| James Callis as Dr. Gaius Baltar |
Twelve Colonies religion was polytheistic but showed no sign of mystery cults, unlike the ancient Greek religion(s) upon which they were modeled. Perhaps such divisions existed before the destruction of the Twelve Colonies, and were simply never mentioned. By the mass exodus depicted, their religion had one motive: preservation of the state as the expression of human survival. Guard the state, so it can guard us against anarchy and extinction.
After a cadre of mostly bereaved women anointed Baltar their Messiah, his message became strictly counter-authoritarian. It ratified that God had sanctified the desperate and despised who now lived in Galactica’s below-decks (“Blessed are you poor,” Luke 6:20). Though Baltar’s Gospel, like the Christian Gospel which loosely inspired it, looks contradictory to anyone seeking a moral checklist, it’s actually remarkably consistent: God supports those downtrodden by worldly authorities.
Religious historian Bruce Lincoln, in Discourse and the Construction of Society, postulates the process of organizing society. Powers of Earth, and their counter-authorities, create narratives that explain why people should, or shouldn’t, support the status quo. These narratives, Lincoln calls “myths.” Consider the mythological, almost religious nature of stories we tell about society: Betsy Ross giving figurative birth to an American flag, or the martyrs at the Edmund Pettus Bridge.
The official state religion aboard Galactica supports authority. Our gods have literally appointed President Roslin to guide us into the Promised Land. Their myths of a lost, Edenic homeland, justify power structures in society. Holy scriptures contain the narrative that justifies state authority, and state authority stratifies the narrative of religious belief. Like the Books of Moses, the Laws of God are literally synonymous with the Laws of the Land.
The series positions Baltar as Jesus, but I prefer comparing him to Hebrew prophets. Like Jesus, the prophets didn’t consider themselves breakaway, but their message often directly contradicts Moses. The prophets seldom condemned private sin, a favorite issue of state-sponsored priests; rather, they inveighed against kings and the organized priesthood, who used their nominally God-given authority to oppress the people. Jesus was simply the culmination of the prophetic tradition.
When Baltar challenges Roslin’s state religion, he offers what Bruce Lincoln might call a counter-myth. His narrative, he claims, better explains a just society dedicated to the Promised Land. Those who follow him believe his postulated society better serves the despised masses. His counter-narrative remains unresolved in the final battle, maybe because the counter-myth doesn’t exist to solve anything, really. The fight is just worth fighting.
On a similar, but not identical, theme:
God, Man, and Battlestar Galactica
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