In Defense of Watto

Maligned. Detested. Dismissed. Watto deserves a second look.

by Trevor Drinkwater // Illustration by Sam Hindman

The conventional wisdom around the Star Wars prequels has been a subject of much debate in recent years. In the wake of Disney’s polarizing new sequel trilogy, it’s become more popular than ever to argue that these three films— 1999’sThe Phantom Menace, 2002’s Attack of the Clones, and 2005’s The Revenge of the Sith—and their creator George Lucas have been unfairly maligned.

But there is one major complaint that has still gone relatively unexamined: that the prequels, especially the first one, are cartoonishly racist. This charge is long overdue for a serious evaluation.

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When the allegations of racism in The Phantom Menace first arose in 1999, Lucasfilm was quick to issue a statement denying that anything in the film was racially motivated. Jar Jar Binks actor Ahmed Best went a step further, insisting that those who made such criticisms were merely projecting their own prejudices. Today, however, the claim has become so widely accepted that even prequel defenders will rarely touch it. It’s understandable, of course, in the current politicized climate around silly pop culture crap, to be reluctant to step on any toes in regard to this issue. Sometimes, though, in the pursuit of truth, toes simply must be stepped on. So with that in mind, let’s talk about Watto.

A careful review of the facts will show, conclusively, that there is absolutely nothing antisemitic about Watto and that the vicious smears propagated against him are patently ridiculous.

The baseless accusations against this perfectly fine and loveable character likely first appeared in J. Hoberman’s Village Voice review of Episode One but were elaborated on most notably by Bruce Gottlieb in an editorial for Slate titled “The Merchant of Menace.” Though it was echoed at least once more, by Patricia J. Williams in The Nation, it was hardly a popular contention at the time, as Gottlieb’s article acknowledges. Incredulously, he cites Time’s Richard Corliss, who praises Watto’s design, as a standard viewpoint. Indeed, few contemporaneous critics seem to have made the connection at all. Even the Anti-Defamation League would later put out a statement saying that they did not find the character offensive.

If the famously easy-to-offend ADL saw nothing wrong with Watto, one might assume that this little controversy had no leg to stand on. So why is it now treated as an established fact that the Toydarian junk dealer is a hateful caricature practically ripped from the pages of Der Stürmer? It could be that the disappointment felt by many fans left them eager to embrace any critique of the movie after the fact. Nevertheless, we must revisit the argument point-by-point in order to properly set the record straight.

If the famously easy-to-offend ADL saw nothing wrong with Watto, one might assume that this little controversy had no leg to stand on. 

Above all else, Hoberman, Gottlieb, and Williams agree that Watto is “hook-nosed.” This is of course the most prevalent physical feature in classic antisemitic imagery, but the criteria for what constitutes a hook nose aren’t always clear. Truthfully, Watto’s snout looks less like any kind of human nose than a small elephant trunk, bulbous in shape like a slug. I’d hasten to add that Jews aren’t the only ethnic group with whom large noses are associated, so the tendency to see ourselves in any monstrous, big-nosed figure always seems somewhat narcissistic. Watto is altogether a unique creature. I’ve never known any stereotypical depiction of Jews to feature thick, tusklike teeth, webbed flippers for feet, or wings, although Williams claims his look is nearly identical to a depiction of a Jewish journalist in an old Dutch publication. I was unable to find the image in question, so I’ll have to take her word for it.

Then there’s the voice. Corliss’s Time review called it “the raspy voice of Brando’s Godfather speaking Turkish,” to the utter disbelief of Gottlieb, who insists that it’s clearly Yiddish. But Gottlieb is the only one of our primary sources who draws that specific connection. Williams describes it as a “gravelly Middle Eastern accent,” asserting that the character is “both anti-Arab and anti-Jew.” Andy Secombe, the actor who voices Watto, claims that he was meant to sound Italian. Personally, I’ve always thought it sounded more Greek than anything. So the precise ethnic makeup of Watto’s voice really depends on who you ask, but it’s safe to say that there’s nothing conclusively Jewish about it. 

Is it his character then, that makes him such an obvious mockery of the chosen people? It’s true that Watto is a merchant by trade, and we get the sense from our brief time with him that he’s a shrewd businessman, but we’re not given any reason to believe that he’s exceptionally devious by the standards of his adopted homeworld Tatooine. We’re shown and told throughout the Star Wars saga that this backwater planet, ruled by the Hutt gangster clan, is crawling with swinders, thieves, and con artists of all types. Isn’t Watto, a foreigner in an unforgiving land, simply adapting to survive?

“Even in a galaxy far away, the Jews are apparently behind the slave trade,” writes Gottlieb, in a ridiculous overestimation of Watto’s social position. Just like everything else on Tatooine, the slave trade is controlled by the Hutts. As an immigrant small business owner and part-time gambler, Watto controls very little. Certainly it’s our right to disapprove of him for owning a couple of slaves, but sadly this is common practice on the remote desert planet where he plies his trade. Watto didn’t make this world, he’s just living in it.

Watto didn’t make this world, he’s just living in it. 

If we look into his backstory, we’ll find that Watto learned his cunning mercenary skills only after relocating to Tatooine and joining up with a crew of traveling Jawas. His birth planet Toydaria functions as a feudal monarchy, but it falls within Hutt Space, meaning that even the kings among his own people are subject to the higher authority of the ruthless Hutts. None of this is readily evident in the films themselves, but neither is it suggested that his apparent venality is inherent to his species. This would, at the very least, make the fictional Toydarian race nowhere near as offensive as J.K. Rowling’s infamous banking goblins or even Star Trek’s gold-obsessed Ferengi.

And Jews, it must be said, are also not the only group of people to be stereotyped as cheap or covetous. For instance, Gottlieb shares a joke about the alleged miserliness of Scotsmen as an example of acceptable ethnic humor. So what is it that causes us to see these kinds of traits as uniquely Jewish when we observe them in fictional aliens and monsters? Would it be wrong to suggest that this says at least as much about our insecurities as Jews as it does about the prejudices of science fiction and fantasy creators?

If, despite the airtight case I’ve laid out, you’re still unconvinced of Watto’s innocence, I doubt there’s much I can say to sway you. But if his Jewishness is really so undeniable, then surely you must recognize that Star Wars had already had a wholly positive representation of Jews long before Watto was introduced, in the form of a different tiny alien with a funny voice. Yes, I’m referring to none other than the wise and noble Jedi Grand Master Yoda.

As portrayed by Frank Oz, the son of a Dutch-Polish Jew, Yoda’s classic Jewish qualities are plainly apparent. Possessing both the soulful wisdom of a seasoned rabbi and the playful wit of a Borscht Belt comedian, he is an ideal Jewish patriarch. His distinctive speech style has been compared to that of a native Yiddish speaker, and his name is even similar to the Hebrew word yada, meaning “to know.”. So why don’t we recognize Yoda as a Jewish icon? Is it because he doesn’t have a giant nose, engage in shady dealings, or own slaves? Or were people just not as attuned to the racial implications of goofy space movies 40 years ago? In any case, Jews ought to take pride in that little pointy-eared rascal, who plays a much larger role in the franchise than Watto does.

Not all of the complaints about Phantom Menace characters are so easy to dismiss, however. Neimoidian Viceroy Nute Gunray does speak in an unmistakably East Asian voice, which actor Silas Carson admits was patterned after a Thai accent. I could pick apart all the dubious claims made about the Neiomoidans by detractors in 1999–Gottlieb in particular gets creative here. But the fact is, the Viceroy’s voice alone would be more than enough to reasonably offend a modern audience.

Possessing both the soulful wisdom of a seasoned rabbi and the playful wit of a Borscht Belt comedian, Yoda is an ideal Jewish patriarch. 

And then there’s Jar Jar Binks. Despite the protests of Ahmed Best, the Black actor behind the character, we can’t honestly argue that there’s no racial component to Jar Jar, intentional or not. He clearly shares a lineage with classic Hollywood cartoons, whose basis in buffoonish minstrel characters is well-documented all the way back to Mickey Mouse, making the connotation unavoidable. The only real question is whether George Lucas had any malicious intent.

Some have complained in the past about Darth Vader, the only character in the original film to be played by a Black actor, whose black mask symbolizes his evil. It’s only after Vader redeems himself that he can lose both the mask and the Black voice that comes with it, revealing the good white man hidden underneath. This interpretation is usually ridiculed, though it’s not entirely without merit. Lucas, for his part, was initially reluctant to cast James Earl Jones for this very reason, and this concern may have motivated him to create virtuous Black characters like Lando Calrissian and later Mace Windu, a Jedi Master of comparable status to Yoda himself. This is not to say that Lucas is some perfect antiracist who couldn’t have possibly imparted any unconsciously racist ideas in his movies, but he was at least more sensitive to racial issues than most white, gentile filmmakers would have been in the 1970s.

Ultimately, Star Wars is a story that affirms the fundamental humanity in all of us, a hopeful vision of a ragtag group of humans, aliens, and robots of all stripes uniting to overcome the oppression of a fascist regime. Even Bruce Gottlieb concedes that “true evil in this movie–the so-called Phantom Menace–resides in a handsome white man (Sen. Palpatine) and a towheaded tot (Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader).” No shit, Bruce.

Whatever George Lucas’s faults may be, he’s no bigot. At the core of his most famous creation is a profound sense of universal empathy. He presents us with a moral framework in which no one is safe from corruption but all are capable of redemption. And in this world, where evil lurks in the heart of every hero and even the greatest villain has the potential for good, what are we to make of a two-bit scoundrel like Watto?

When Anakin and Padmé return to Tatooine in Attack of the Clones, Watto appears once more, looking worse for wear. His business now diminished, he’s peddling his wares on the street when he and his former slave boy are reunited. “Ani? Little Ani?” he says, his voice wavering slightly from the emotional realization. His eyes betray a wistful sadness that quickly gives way to joy. One can even detect a hint of fatherly pride on his computer-generated face. This fleeting moment tells us so much about Watto and how he truly feels about the kid he used to boss around. After all, he was the closest thing young Ani had ever had to a father before being scooped up by a much larger and more prestigious child slavery ring.

When we first meet Anakin in that junk shop, he’s a bright-eyed, precocious, optimistic kid. By the end of his time with the Jedi, he’s become a bitter, hateful, child-murdering psychopath.

Perhaps he would have been better off just staying with Watto.

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