Star Trek: Deep Space Nine: “Progress”/“If Wishes Were Horses”

“Progress” (season 1, episode 15; originally aired 5/9/1993)
In which Kira makes a friend, and then burns down his house…
It’s not easy being a revolutionary. You’re a minority against a controlling, entrenched force; you lack your enemies’ resources, your loved ones are targets, and there is no safe ground to retreat to; and often, even the people you’re fighting to free won’t understand your cause, or will even prefer a dictatorship to the uncertainty and upheaval of a new regime. But at least in a revolution, you can believe in the purity of your intentions. In the heat of the moment, you know you’re fighting for freedom from tyranny, for the end of oppression and the downfall of the cruel and merciless. You may lose your life, but it’s a price you’re willing to pay if it means that someday, justice may be served.
Say that day finally arrives. There are parades and speeches, and everyone puts in extra hours to make sure there’s none of that crazy French Revolution-style fall-out. Further, say you succeed in not butchering your fellow revolutionaries in a frenzied, paranoid power grab, and that you manage to install an interim government that meets most, if not all, of your initial demands. All well and good, but at some point, being at the top means you’re going to have to start compromising on some of those ideals you once held dear. This isn’t a cynical or negative process; it’s a simple fact of existence that not everyone wants the same thing, and doing your best to serve the needs of the many means every so often you have to royally screw over the few. That’s how things are. You can make the world a better place, but you can’t make it a perfect place, and that’s a hard truth to realize. Revolutions have obvious villains. Reconstructions have gray areas and bad moods.
Such is the problem Major Kira Nerys faces in “Progress,” a terrific hour of television. For the first time, we have an episode of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine that delivers on potential instead of just hinting at it. The story is affecting, smart, and moves in unexpected ways, offering opportunities for characters and relationships to develop while still delivering a satisfying beginning, middle, and end. Kira once again takes center stage, and as with “Past Prologue,” she’s forced to make a decision between the monochromatic Bajoran ideals she once held and the political realities of a world struggling to rebuild. Here, though, there’s no convenient act of violence, however well-intended, to let her off the hook. In “Progress,” Kira has to accept that life isn’t always as simple as we need it to be, and being in a position of power means sometimes, you have to be the bad guy. All this, and we get a B-plot which manages to be both funny and, no joke, heart-warming. When I started this project, I expected I would come to appreciate DS9 in its way as much as I appreciate Star Trek and Star Trek: The Next Generation. I didn’t expect that appreciation would come so soon, and this has me very excited to see what the show’s like when it really gets good.
Initially, “Progress” follows a pattern which should be familiar to TNG fans: the crew of the DS9 is working with Bajor on a science project. The Bajorans need energy, and to get it, they’re planning on tapping into the core of one of their moons, Jeraddo. The moon has been evacuated, and Kira and Dax are on a routine flyover when they pick up some telltale energy readings; looks like Jeraddo isn’t quite so evacuated after all. Promising Dax she’ll only be gone a few minutes, Kira beams down and is immediately menaced by a pair of mute Bajorans with farming implements. (In case you’ve never seen an agrarian horror movie, farm implements can be very, very menacing.) Another farmer, this one an older man who likes calling Kira “girl,” explains the situation: He and his friends are all refugees from the Cardassian camps. They’ve lived on this farm for the best years of their lives, and they have no intention of leaving now, no matter what anyone says.
This is a solid premise. TNG did a few variations on the same theme: individuals who refuse to compromise when faced with the demands of society. In the context of this episode, it’s a way to show the divisions in the still developing relationship between Bajor and the Federation. More importantly, it’s also a way to highlight the series’ strongest recurring trope so far: Kira’s struggle to define herself in a post-Cardassian landscape. Where “Battle Lines” spent too much time outlining a heavy-handed metaphor, “Progress” focuses the lion’s share of its 40 minutes on Kira’s relationship with Mullibok. This is a smart choice, and the episode succeeds in most every way “Battle Lines” failed, making a point based as much on character as it is on politics, and refusing to allow our heroes an easy exit from the conflict. The Moon of Eternal War in “Battle Lines” was hellish, no question, but, invading nano-particles aside, it was easy for Kira, Sisko, and Bashir to leave it behind. On this week’s moon, life isn’t so simple.
The most obvious difficulty is Mullibok (Brian Keith), the older Bajoran farmer refusing to leave Jeraddo. Mullibok is everything you don’t want in a friendly enemy: He’s charming, intelligent, and completely unwilling to change his mind. Worse, he’s thought through his position. He knows he’ll die if he stays, but he’s convinced he’ll also die if he goes, and he’d rather die at home. This is difficult to argue against. Kira doesn’t want anyone to die, but she also doesn’t want to have to force anyone to move at phaser-point. If Mullibok and his companions (who are mute, thanks to the Cardassians) already understand the consequences of their actions, there isn’t anything she can threaten them with. Her only hope is to talk through the situation, and try to find some way to convince Mullibok that not dying really is the better option here, however worried or afraid he is of change. This is what Kira does, although she does more listening than talking for most of the episode, and it’s her back-and-forth with Mullibok that gives “Progress” its soul. Keith is a fine actor (his IMDB page features some impressive credits), and he and Nana Visitor have excellent chemistry together, the sort that achieves connection even after only a few minutes of screentime. Mullibok tells exaggerated stories of his life, calls Kira a pretty girl, and generally makes a nuisance of himself, while Kira struggles between irritation and a growing affection. Much in the way that “Progress” initially follows a common TNG story pattern, the friendship between the farmer and the major runs along well-established lines: the wise old mentor teaching a brash up-and-comer some simple truths about the world.
What’s great, though, is that isn’t what this relationship is. While Kira is charmed and moved by Mullibok’s struggles, she doesn’t think he’s right in his cause, at least not entirely. When she decides to stay on Jeraddo with the old man after the first attempt to forcibly remove him and his friends goes awry, her decision is driven by a number of complex emotions: guilt over Mullibok’s injuries, concern for his well-being, and, perhaps most strongly, an inability to let go of the past in order to prepare for the future. Mullibok repeatedly makes connections between his struggles against the Bajoran government, and the Bajorans’ fight against the Cardassians, but the resemblance is, at best, a shallow one; Mullibok claims his stubbornness can save him, but it won’t, and both he and Kira realize this. The difference is, Mullibok doesn’t have to act on this knowledge—he’s decided he’s ready to die for what he believes in. That leaves Kira to resolve the issue, and that means it’s Kira who is ultimately the more adult. Other characters offer advice, most notably Sisko, who tells her she has to get used to being on the side of the people who are in power, however unpleasant that may be. In the end, though, it’s Kira who has to realize the limitations of Mullibok’s obstinacy, as she’s forced to come to terms with the fact that, unlike fighting the Cardassians, government is a battle with few clear victories, and constant, often agonizing attrition.