and chaotic world that exists after Kefka acquires his power is in many ways the direct result of the slave morality—Kefka punishing those who refuse to accept that he, as god, is good and that they are inferior, though not evil. If they would simply accept this state of affairs without complaint, without trying to rebel against him or label him, he would most likely let them be. They beg for compassion, but compassion is something that Kefka lacks, has always lacked, simply because it is a virtue created by those who lack power, and virtue is rationally unnecessary for superiority, or goodness, in the original sense of master morality.
Neo-Kefka: Übermensch or Failed God?
Nietzsche imagined that at some point in the future, the contradictory nature of the slave morality would become apparent and superior individuals would arise, creating a new morality of self-governance. Note that this new morality could not be called “better” or “worse,” for what moral system can be used to judge moral systems themselves? Would we recognize such a superior person, an Übermensch, if we saw one? Is Kefka an Übermensch?
While Nietzsche may be best known for the dictum “God is dead,” he did not mean the phrase as literally as many people think. The death of God signifies the end of an era in which the meaning of life is accepted unquestioningly from a religious (or other) authority that gained power during the slave revolt. Uncertainty about what will fill the void of meaning created by the authority’s collapse leads most people to close their minds to the thought. At one point Nietzsche has the character who proclaims the death of God (interestingly enough, a madman) give up and smash his lantern to the ground, declaring that he has come too soon and the world is not yet ready to face the consequences of a new, godless existence.
This lack of preparedness is the very worry that Kefka embodies, that without God there is no purpose or meaning to existence. Our fear is that a world in which God has been cast aside or replaced by reason alone is one in which the only possible end is nihilistic desire for the annihilation of everything. Kefka’s failure to justify the meaning of existence shows us that this fear is still strong a hundred years after Nietzsche made us aware of it. If Kefka could not discover a meaning, despite his knowledge and power, what hope is there for the rest of us? Nietzsche wanted more than what Kefka could offer mankind. The Übermensch he described might initially resemble Kefka, but ultimately it shows him to be a false prophet. The real Übermensch is capable not only of overthrowing God and the old morality, but of overcoming nihilism as well: “This man of the future, who will redeem us not only from the hitherto reigning ideal but also from that which was bound to grow out of it, the great nausea, the will to nothingness, nihilism . . . this Antichrist and antinihilist.”
Is Reason Really Madness?
Was Kefka truly mad? Or did he cause a change for the better in the world? At the conclusion of the game, amid the various happily-ever-afters and credits, we find a party of characters who have learned a great deal about themselves and how to live in the world. Although they may have lived satisfactory lives before, they were unenlightened and questioned nothing. The struggle against Kefka brought them face-to-face with the negative influence of magic—of religion, control, and authority—and tasked them with learning to live without it. Perhaps some may think that an ideal world is one in which the gods of magic remained frozen, or where a benevolent ruler usurped their power and handed down a new meaning that would bring us peace, prosperity, and purpose. If what Nietzsche said has the ring of truth, however, then Kefka’s rise and fall represent the best possible situation. In the end, a world without magic is not entirely blissful, it is not utopian, but neither should we expect it to be.