Thoughts on Stilgar, the Fremen Naib
 
 Stilgar The Fremen are said to be without guilt.  In the harsh lives that they live, guilt would only be a burden, hence they are untroubled by it.  But this necessarily creates an even harsher environment, one in which outsiders are persecuted out of hand, one lacking in any kind of moral code.
The Fremen have their traditions certainly, but is there any room for flexibility?  After living a raw existence under the thumb of the god-like Shai-hulud and the addiction of the Spice, the Fremen are unable to successfully cope with change.  Blindly adhering to traditional values and axioms, the Harkonnens slowly crush them beneath their boot heels.  Their hatred burns brightly, certainly, and they never succumb to weakness, but they still lack any sort of direction.
    But Stilgar, Stilgar is a man with a fresh mind.  Not only is he Naib of Sietch Tabr, a man with a great many responsibilities to his tribe, but he is also able to look beyond this immediate role to the future which lies at the horizon.  When Paul Atreides comes stumbling into his sietch, it is no accident that he is ready to accept him as a sietch-mate, even when the others are only interested in taking his water.
    But the clean, simple existence all the Fremen are so used to does not remain intact for long.  After Muad’Dib's victories on the plains of Arrakeen and his subjugation of the Emperor, they are a weapon with no target, a raging mob aching to do battle, yet having no enemies in sight.  So thus begins the bloody Jihad, and the world changes.  The religious bureaucracies are put in place, and Paul is elevated to level of a living god.
    And Stilgar changes as well.  The shadow of the proud Naib is still there, but he is a man tortured by the complicated existence which has been thrust upon him.  Out of loyalty to Paul, he undertakes his new role as a minister of Paul’s government, but he is unable to ever feel at home again.  The rush of the desert is lost to him, Shai-hulud’s cries are heard now only in his sleep, if at all.  And this necessarily alters the man that Stilgar is.
    Of all of Herbert’s characters, Stilgar has always fascinated me the most.  His black, bristling beard and fierce, flinty eyes of the Ibad compose for me the apotheosis of the Dune series, the quality which makes that world so magical.  And I feel sorry for Stilgar, in a way.  Doubtless he would shamed to discover such pity for him.  But Stilgar will always demand the respect he deserves, I think.  He is a Fremen--and a man, for that matter--of the first order.
 


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