Legitimacy: Why Fans and Lords Alike Don’t Want a Lannister on the Throne
Legitimacy is a big deal for rulers. Morally, of course, supreme executive power should come from a mandate from the masses, but what I mean here is practically: legitimacy helps you keep your office and your head. Yet it can be hard to explain why, never mind persuade fans of ruthless Realpolitik that effective government isn’t all about big sticks and cunning schemes. Perhaps a strange phenomenon from the A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones series can help.
The phenomenon is, simply, that no one in the fiction wants the Lannisters to rule, and no one in the fanbase does either. And the point? This isn’t a coincidence, it’s because both are a result of lack of legitimacy.
To make this argument, it seems reasonable to take the current end of the book series (in stasis since 2011) as the frame of reference — not least because it roughly coincides with the same place the TV series fell off a cliff.
Indeed, I’m sure most readers will remember when you couldn’t move for ‘Game of Thrones’. It was an incredible pop culture phenomenon, the greatest fantasy splash since Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings, bringing in a huge and diverse audience. Almost everyone in my Fresher’s Year had a favourite character, and a favourite claimant for the Iron Throne. What’s really interesting is that the favourite character would often be a Lannister, but the favourite claimant never.
Starks were wildly popular choices for the ultimate winner, as were the Targaryens. Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen pictures, quotations, and memes plastered cork boards and Facebook pages. The diehards still keep the faith, especially in the much smaller but highly active book fanbase. Even Stannis Baratheon has his own committed following — a remarkable achievement of writing, given that Stannis’ character basis is that he’s unloveable. These are fans who love their side out of principle, and would support them through all their fictional ups and downs.
But why did no one want the Lannisters to win? People rightly loved the characters. They get snazzy costumes and a Who’s Who of compelling actors on TV. In both programme and book, Tyrion’s character story is probably the best in the series, closely followed by Jaime’s. Still, while we like them individually, and celebrate their little victories, there’s no core of supporters who really wanted the series to end with a Lannister (or, technically, ‘a Baratheon’) on the Iron Throne.
What’s telling is that they have the same problem in the fiction. In theory, they should be sitting tight. Successful ruses and glorious victories have seen off their main enemies. They have control over key resources and the symbols of authority, not least the Iron Throne. Yet in practice their rule is deeply insecure. Lannister writ runs via their unpopular placemen in the North and Riverlands and their two-faced allies in the Reach. The Greyjoys and Dornish rebel; the Vale basically ignores them. While their fortunes are up they’re okay, but they can rely on no one for the downs.
In other words, the Lannisters are reliant on pure contingency. What that means is a particular set of circumstances is keeping them in power, and if a single one of them changes, the house of cards falls. Precisely the same problem faced their predecessor, Robert Baratheon. When TV Cersei comments that the only thing that seems to hold the Realms together is her marriage to Robert, she gets to the heart of the matter. Her husband had stolen the symbols of authority and told everyone to continue as if this is perfectly legitimate. It worked only because his personal ties built a coalition of six of Westeros’ nine regions. When Robert dies, that coalition goes with him. His formerly quiet enemies took their opportunity. Even his allies started considering their options.
Lannisters Lack Legitimacy
The new Lannister regime has no legitimacy. They must painstakingly (and violently) build a new house of cards. Don’t get me wrong: that situation enables the excellent character arcs of the principal Lannisters. The point is that the lords are supporting, basically, whoever they feel like. That can be the Lannisters, but they could very easily switch allegiance. It’s a telling contrast to the history of the Targaryens. They often faced rebellions from opponents backing another Targaryen. Even disgruntled lords recognised that only someone of the Targaryen family can be a legitimate monarch. They challenged the people on top of the system, but not the system itself. Instead, the Lannisters are facing opposition to the rule of their very dynasty.
And this is where the fans come back in. What we’re seeing both in the fiction and out of it is that the Lannisters can’t tap into shared assumptions about who has the right to rule. The Starks have a convincing claim to represent the distinctive culture of the North, and fans and vassals alike love to proclaim them kings there. The Targaryens created the systems and its symbols in the first place, and have the charisma of their special origin and unique powers. You could say Daenerys on the one hand, and the Starks on the other, are actually innovating new political models, but their visions have a strong grounding in old culture, identity, and beliefs. These resonate with both lords in the fiction and fans of the fiction. No such luck for the Lannisters.
If legitimacy is so powerful, how can the Lannisters get some? It’s an obvious question, and many real political regimes face it. Yet the answer eluded Robert Baratheon, and it eludes scholars of post-conflict recovery — my field — too. Even when you accept the importance of legitimacy, trying to pin down what it is, never mind how it’s made, leads world experts to treat it as a sort of magic, vital yet mysterious. But we cannot be content to leave the analysis of something that tells us so much about our world — and other worlds — at that. Like the Lannisters, we cannot afford to ignore legitimacy.
