Andor and the Spur of History

Andor creator Tony Gilroy (writer of Bourne, Michael Clayton, Rogue One) is on the record saying: “Our show is about what happens when history comes knocking on your door.” History seems to seek rogue pilot Cassian Andor in particular, meeting him time and time again as he tries to escape imperial clutches, find his sister, and carve out some small slice of freedom in a sea of stars suppressed. 

Something to appreciate about the TV show Andor (2022-2025) is the fact that we know where this character ends up, in the future that is Rogue One (2016). The origin saga of Cassian Andor (Diego Luna) being a prequel to a film we have seen means that we are working toward a definitive end: Jyn, Andor and the Rogue One strike force end up perishing on Scarif but not before their efforts incite the key rebel campaign to victory over the empire. This reality has its advantages and disadvantages. By the finale, two things are certain: 1) Gilroy and co. made the perfect saga to wedge into their prequel of a prequel (Andor > Rogue One >> STAR WARS), and 2) they have crafted an especially expansive and timely story to tell in an already overcrowded mythos. 

Star Wars fans (and less-than-fans) have heaped endless praise upon the writing, filmmaking, performances, and overall attention to detail that Gilroy and his team put together for Andor’s two seasons. The show also had the added challenge (or gift) of including no Jedi, minimal Force woo, and no Skywalker or Palpatine presence except as shadows at the edge of the narrative frame.

Andor is ultimately the story of how the rebellion begins. We get to see the rise of underground resistance and guerilla warfare and at-times hardcore spycraft. We experience the trials and tribulations of the men and women who can truly be named as responsible for kickstarting the end of Emperor Palpatine’s Galactic Empire. 

Specifically with Cassian — we bear witness to the birth of the kind of man that unchecked tyranny is capable of producing. Resourceful, cunning, ruthless. Andor is a survivalist x warrior capable of infiltration, assassination, escape artistry and much more. As a daring leader, he can make ten men feel like a hundred. As a heroic example, he becomes the exemplar of the perfect revolutionary individual. 

Through Cassian’s character journey, we see how it is the outlaw that must first notice the cracks in the walls of totalitarianism. The reckless destructions and wanton oppressions of the empire are on full display for anyone with gaze unclouded. For those vulnerable or dangerous enough to be a prospective target, at the periphery and in the core, the empire’s tendrils become something inescapable. The phantom of absolute surveillance and the reality of mass incarceration touch down inside the average imperial subject’s conscious experience. There is nowhere free from imperial designs, no land or psyche. By Nemik’s words — that is how they win, we let their despotism seep into our mind, effectively culling our hope and turning us into unnaturally efficient automatons for the furtherance of banal evils. 

Meanwhile, inside the heart of the machine, the Imperial Security Bureau (ISB) bureaucracy holds meetings and generates Excel spreadsheets detailing extermination plans. Imperial military personnel bungle security operations and plant false flags in perpetuity, propagandizing the middle classes while continuing to consume the underclasses for their lands, resources, and labors. Of course, the inner fascist machinery inevitably ends up betraying its most loyal handmaidens, devouring goons like Syril and analysts like Dedra and even high-ranking adepts like Partagaz. Fascism’s core ideals involve self-destruction and paranoia and so much Other-death that friends and foes inevitably become indiscernible. Everything starts to bend inward, eventually summoning righteous rebellion from across a galaxy less “controlled” and more bottled momentarily. <Class consciousness is summoned in sustained suffering, class war plays out, and the rest is history.>

Like anyone else sane and not on the empire’s payroll, Cassian Andor can see the opportunity — and necessity — of the coming revolution. I think the rational survivalist inside him wars against the impassioned yet still burgeoning revolutionary further within. What good is defeating the empire if me and Bix cannot be together? What good is any war if entire peoples and cultures go missing in the process? This is one of the major facets of Andor’s storytelling (and a core arc throughout real history): 

What does it take to radicalize someone and create a rebel?

What does it truly mean to trade your life into revolution? 

Cassian is just one man after all, no matter how radical he may be (in both senses). Rebellions are formed via a mass network of clandestine alliances, wealth, and weaponry; revolutions are won by soldiers, starships, and strategy. 

Enter a character such as Luthen Rael, Gilroy’s Vladimir Lenin analogue. Under pseudonym “Axis” he secretly stokes the rebellion’s nascent rumblings as an orchestrator of capital and personnel, operating deep cover as an art seller on Coruscant in the belly of the beast. Luthen (and his diamond-sharp assistant Kleya) works alongside double agent ISB officer Lonni Jung, idealist senator Mon Mothma, and hardcore rebel terrorist Saw Gerrera to formulate an organized resistance to Palpatine and his sprawling Galactic Empire. Each rebel faction must eventually work out the roles, responsibilities, and fundamental differences between them if they are to form a truly threatening countervailing force to iron-fisted imperial rule. 

The complex interplay of all these great characters coming together is what makes up the core drama and perforce brilliance of Andor.

In the middle of it all remains Cassian. What makes him special? It is not just his skills or bravery, but his foresight into understanding of what makes for a worthy risk. Like any great professional thief, everything is calculated. Organized. Practiced. It must be. This is the only way to escape and survive in the end. Cassian takes his talents to Luthen’s employ for the rebellion, and the rest is history. 

At 20,000 feet now — seeing Andor’s journey is incredible: Initially hassled by some drunk cops in a back alley while looking for his sister, later acting as point man in a series of key missions and vital incidents that will evolve the rebellion and lead to the implosion of the Death Star. How fortuitous for the rebellion to have this man. How devastating for Bix to have to give him up. How wonderful to resolve their relationship with such a crucial and apt choice. (Gilroy cooked.)

Needless to say, Andor and every other rebel is risking everything from the beginning. This is partly what makes the revolution so difficult. It relies on trust as much as strategy. Can you count on your peers to reciprocate your risks, to defend your life with their own? 

Can you count on your comrades to honor your sacrifice, to carry your spirit forth with the vigor necessary for victory?

The viewer of Andor — and the student of history — must learn of the foundational element native to every successful revolution: sacrifice. 

Knowledge, resources, lives sacrificed and deaths expended. This is what it takes to win any war. In consideration of the power imbalance that exists between the fledgling rebel alliance versus the entrenched empire, amplify every cost tenfold and place your odds on a razor’s edge.

>You may have more bodies, but less resources + the state has Death Machines.

>>You must be underground, existing in constant threat of discovery and death. 

>>>(pulling off a revolution is hard.)

I think another major impulse to make Andor comes from the seemingly small line in Return of the Jedi by Mon Mothma: “Many Bothans died to bring us this information.” Ironically, we see no Bothans, a race of furries known for being master spies and politicians. However, Andor does capture the precious notion that many, many faceless rebels had to die in the shadows in order to poise the Galactic Empire for toppling. Their storied sacrifices, and their beautiful faces, must be honored at the end of the day — and known well to the victors of the future. 

One can see how it ends up taking some fierce amalgamation of Mothma’s idealism paired with Luthen’s realism plus Kleya’s resourcefulness, Andor’s opportunism, and Saw’s extremist verve (among many others) to accelerate this sacred fight into the red zone. We see the proverbial red zone offense in Rogue One and Star Wars, as our cast of future heroes team up to take center stage within the space opera. 

Andor’s vivid spurring of Star Wars’ fundamental turn of history has the local effect of a necessary realization: 

You too may one day have to fight in a revolution for a sunrise you will never see. 

Hopefully you do it anyway because you know it is right. 

That capacity for conviction is what makes you human. Your sacrifice transforms your legacy into something for future generations to venerate. Most gravely, know that the history may not be told at all unless the free emerge victorious. ~