Attack on Titan is considered by many as one
of the best series of all time. With charismatic characters, a brilliantly
written story and an incredible soundtrack, it stands out from the rest through the themes
it addresses, and the way it addresses them. One of the key themes in Hajime Isayama’s
works is vengeance. The plot of Attack on Titan is based on a
cycle, the cycle of violence. The story begins with the attack on the Shiganshina
district and Wall Maria by the Warrior Unit sent by Marley. This attack and the Titan invasion it caused
trigger a quest and a desire for vengeance inside the protagonist, Eren Yeager. He vows to take revenge, and to exterminate
every last Titan. During his quest, he discovers that he himself
possesses the power to turn into a Titan, just as his enemies do, and he uses this newfound
power to help humanity fight back against the invaders. Eren’s quest for violence gradually makes
him lose his own humanity, to the point where he attacks Liberio, the hometown of the Marleyan
Warriors, crushing Marley’s military and causing many collateral victims among the
civilians, even including children, despite the fact that most of them were part of his
own people. Eren inflicts upon his enemies what he himself
experienced and suffered, and thus, loses more and more of his humanity, so much so
that his original enemies end up being less monstrous than Eren himself, a change so significant
it even shows through his appearance. And just like the attack on Shiganshina by
the Warriors, the raid on Liberio by Eren will in turn push other characters towards
a quest for vengeance. Once you engage on the path of violence, you
only end up causing more violence. This idea of a cycle of violence may go overlooked
at first when beginning the series. At that point, the enemies were only composed
of Titans without intelligence or humanity, who attacked and devoured the inhabitants
of Paradis without distinction. Fighting against them was therefore simply
a necessity for humanity’s survival. And although some inside the walls weren’t
motivated by mere survival but by a desire for vengeance, all were moving in the same
direction, towards the same goal, and even though they did it with different methods
and reasons, at the end of the day, all desired the end of the Titans. Consequently, their motives were almost irrelevant. So, when the enemies we thought were mere
monsters turned up to be not only humans, but people we cared about, this diversity
of motivations and moralities suddenly took on a predominant place in the story. From this point on, the individual desires
and points of view of the characters begin clashing with one another, and defining the
actions they will perform, and the sides they will take. In other words, from then on, the characters’
interactions with the cycle of violence bring the story forward. Despite all the horror it causes, not everyone
desires the end of the cycle of violence. Some revel in the cruelty it allows, others
find in it a meaning and a direction to their life. Originally a minor character, Floch Forster,
who would eventually become the leader of the Yeagerists, made himself known when, as
the sole survivor of the massacre of the Survey Corps at the hands of the Beast Titan, he
vigorously advocated for the “revival” of Commander Erwin Smith, even though Erwin
was behind the plan that ultimately caused the massacre. His motive? Humanity needs a demon ready to sacrifice
everything, including his own morality, to ensure the destruction of his enemies, and
thus achieve victory. In other words, Floch wants to follow someone
who would push the cycle of violence ever further. He gives in to his desires for vengeance,
always considering them to be justified despite their immorality. This craving for violence is illustrated when
he has no qualms about destroying the civilian houses during the raid at Liberio, even though
those civilians were Eldians like him, considering them to be enemies first and foremost. Similarly, he wanted to throw Falco and Gabi
out of the airship after the latter shot Sasha, without taking into account the fact that
they were both children and that killing them would change nothing. Though Floch is a special case due to his
awareness of the immorality of his actions, he nonetheless represents the opinion of most
of the inhabitants of Paradis, and that of the oppressors in the rest of the world. Floch embodies the perspective of the Yeagerists,
but more than that, the perspective of those who, whether they realize it or not, perpetuate
the cycle of violence. This makes him an antagonist during the Rumbling
Arc, for from his point of view, by exterminating the rest of humanity, Eren becomes the ultimate
demon, and therefore the only person worthy of being followed. Violence is not indissociable from the cycle,
and using violence doesn’t necessarily mean submitting to the vicious circle of vengeance
and suffering. Armin Arlert is driven by a simple dream:
to see the wonders of the outside world. The only thing keeping him from reaching that
dream is the cruelty and violence of the world. He is therefore naturally opposed to this
violence. However, like Floch, he understands that without
sacrificing anything, you cannot achieve anything; and that in order to defeat monsters, you
must be willing to relinquish your humanity, becoming a monster yourself. But his understanding of this doesn’t mean
those are concepts he approves of. They are principles he is forced to obey due
to the cruel nature of this world. The difference between Armin and someone like
Floch is that Armin is fundamentally opposed to violence, and that he will always look
for another solution. For if we win against monsters while sacrificing
our humanity, was it really worth it? Or was it even a victory to begin with? Armin will always look for alternatives to
violence, and even if there are none, he will keep trying, until confrontation becomes unavoidable. But when it is too late, and the deed has
already been done, it is human nature to try to justify it to oneself. So, when Armin thought the Survey Corps had
eliminated Reiner during the battle of Shiganshina, he tried to convince himself that there were
no other solutions, that Reiner didn’t leave them any chance to negotiate or talk this
through, and that they lacked information about Titans and Warriors for an alternative
to be available anyway. But attempting to convince oneself implies
that one doesn’t truly believe in it. And so, when Bertolt descended to the battle,
Armin didn’t miss his chance. He tried to understand his reasons and objectives,
to talk him out of the fight. When Bertolt refused to negotiate, Armin tried
intimidation, and blackmailed him using his beloved Annie’s alleged torture. And only when this solution also failed and
Bertolt started attacking him did Armin resign himself to engage the fight, and to make any
sacrifice necessary to ensure victory, including giving up his own life. In the case of the raid at Liberio, the hands
of both Armin and the Survey Corps were forced by Eren, who informed them of his decision
to attack Marley only when it was too late to discuss or to find other options. For if Eren had died or been captured, Marley
would have seized the Founding Titan, and that would mean the end for Paradis. Thus, it is reluctantly that Armin destroyed
Liberio’s port, annihilating the Marleyan fleet and reinforcements, and sacrificing
numerous innocent civilians in the process. But Armin’s violence is not that of the
cycle. As I said, violence is not indissociable from
the cycle, if it is not born from hatred and a desire for vengeance. Though the cycle of violence is indeed the
reason for most large-scale conflicts in the story, it is not impossible to oppose it while
using violence when no other means are accessible. But such a usage of violence still has consequences,
both for the victims of course, who could very well enter in turn the cycle of violence,
and for the perpetrators, Armin in that case. Indeed, how can he pretend to want to end
violence when he himself perpetrates such horrible acts? Guilt from the destruction of Liberio’s
port weighed heavily upon Armin, which when combined with his belief that he wasn’t
the right person to bring back to life during the battle of Shiganshina, only fed into his
doubts and self-loathing. It's therefore no surprise that Armin was
the first to oppose the Rumbling and Eren’s global genocide: considering violence as the
only way to obtain peace goes against everything he believes in and everything he fights for. Though differing by some aspects, Armin’s
perspective is that of the protagonists and of the members of the Alliance to stop Eren
and his massacre of humanity beyond the walls. This point of view isn’t as naïve as one
may think at first, because Armin and the others know that violence as a last resort
may be inevitable, but they have a conscience, their deeds weigh on them and they regret
them, and that is why those deeds do not turn them into monsters. Attack on Titan’s story also possesses cycles
other than that of violence. The series insists heavily on the need to
not repeat the errors of the past, for they will only lead to the same mistakes, again
and again; an idea strongly linked to the cycle of violence. This theme is particular rly explored by the
character of Grisha Yeager. Rightfully opposing his father’s attempted
pro-Marleyan indoctrination, he joins the Restorationists, an extremist group aiming
to restore the Eldian Empire and to end Marley's reign. In following his desire for vengeance, seeking
to make them suffer just like they made him suffer, he embarks on the cycle of hatred,
which causes and is caused by the cycle of violence. Without realizing it, Grisha repeats the errors
of the past, and ends up trying to indoctrinate his son Zeke with contrary ideas to his own
father’s attempted brainwashing. This would lead Zeke to in turn oppose his
father’s ideas. After being deported to Paradis, Grisha realizes
the mistakes that he made, and that he was merely a cog in an endless cycle of indoctrination,
of extremism and of violence. His character evolves: instead of relishing
the sight of Gross, the man who had fed his little sister to his hounds, being devoured
by a Titan, he finds it unbearably horrible. So, when Eren Kruger tasks him with stripping
the king of the Walls of the Founding Titan to finally crush Marley, he accepts, yet hatred
has ceased to be his principal motivation, replaced by his guilt, the guilt of unknowingly
participating in a cycle that would only bring ruin. And thus, when the time has come to see his
mission through, to devour the Founding Titan and to massacre the royal family, he refuses. His guilt keeps him from committing new atrocities,
from repeating the same mistakes, and from bringing forth yet more violence. Grisha rids himself of his past hatred and
refuses to continue the cycle of violence. He has become free. But. As we know, this is not how the story goes. This is where Eren intervenes, appearing from
the future to recall his past. He reminds him of his suffering, of the mistakes
he made. He pulls him back inside the cycle of violence,
reminding him of the place he occupied within it, both as a victim and as a perpetrator. And so, forcefully brought back into hatred
and violence and robbed of his freedom, Grisha massacres the Reiss family. Grisha Yeager is a man who managed to free
himself from the cycle of hatred, but whose past mistakes caught up to, and pulled back
into the cycle. He represents those who had both the strength
and willpower to free themselves from the cycle of violence, only to be brought back
against their will by a suffering calling to the emotions they felt while inside the
cycle. Leaving the cycle is therefore no permanent
feat. Conflict is present in human nature, and it
will always manifest itself one way or another. Attack on Titan proves this with a character
who, although he did not appear directly in the series, had a colossal impact on the plot. This character is Karl Fritz, the first king
of the Walls. A century before the events of the story,
and after witnessing and regretting the horrors his people inflicted on the Marleyans, king
Karl Fritz took the decision to put a permanent end to Eldia’s crimes. To do so, he locked most of his people up
inside of Paradis Island and erased all their memories of the outside world, so that they
couldn’t harm anyone anymore. To allow them to live out their days in peace
while waiting for their eventual destruction at the hands of Marley, Karl Fritz erected
the Walls of Paradis, and created the millions upon millions of Colossal Titans trapped within,
who would serve as a deterrent force for the time being. As for his own power, the power of the Founding
Titan, he restrained it and engraved in it his pacifist ideology. From then on, when Karl Fritz’s descendants
would seek to use the power of the Founder, or to go against his vow renouncing war, his
ideology would overwrite their personalities and desires, to the point where they essentially
became an extension of his own will, effectively compelled to inaction for the generations
to come. And so, for the century that followed, a now
unchallenged Marley could impose its domination on the continent and the entire world and
seize control of most of the Nine Titans. The remainder of the Eldians outside of Paradis,
deprived of the protection provided by their Titans and by the king, were then oppressed
by the rest of the world. For Karl Fritz, Eldia’s crimes were so considerable
that no redemption was possible, and that the Eldians didn’t even deserve to fight
against their own extinction. In other words, he directly and forcefully
removed his people from the cycle of violence, robbing them and their descendants of any
chance at a counterattack, and thus of their free will. Karl Fritz’s goal and hope was that the
cycle would eventually end by itself, once the Marleyan Empire had exterminated the Eldians. However, as the show proves, Fritz’s ideology
was flawed. Even though his people was deprived of ways
to fight back, it retained the desire to do so; this is precisely the reason behind the
creation of the Restorationists, who would eventually overcome the royal family. By seeking to stop the cycle of violence through
inaction, Karl Fritz only succeeded in creating another cycle: a cycle of adoration and ignorance. His descendants, the Reiss family, and most
notably Rod Reiss, as well as Paradis Island’s highest nobility and officials, worshipped
in an almost fanatical way the power of the Founder and the servitude they were submitted
to. This deification is also found within the
Church of the Walls, which further illustrates the religious aspect of it. This adoration of one’s servitude is also
another core theme of the series. Karl Fritz’s ideology would therefore never
have put an end to the cycle of violence. Inaction is a choice by itself and hoping
that Eldia would be destroyed by Marley so that it could never inflict suffering on the
rest of the world only caused in term more pain and destruction. There is no character in the series more opposed
to Karl Fritz’s ideology than the show’s main protagonist and antagonist, Eren Yeager. I took him as an example to explain the cycle
of violence in the first place because he is the most explicit expression of this theme
in the story, but Eren does have a peculiar status regarding the cycle. Eren saw his life and his hometown ravaged
by the Warriors’ attack, and he developed a boundless hatred for the Titans who robbed
him of everything he had. And to fight those Titans, he was ready to
do anything, including becoming a monster himself. By discovering that the Titans and then the
Warriors were actually mere victims, just like he was, he realized the situation was
not that simple. However, to him, it wasn’t that complex
either. The Titans were Eldians forcefully transformed,
and the Warriors were brainwashed children, yes, but to him, the Marleyans were the culprits,
absolute evil, responsible for all the horrors he had experienced. His hatred for his enemies never vanished,
it simply changed target as the enemy’s identity was becoming clearer and clearer,
or more and more blurred. Who is the true enemy? When this question was asked, the answer appeared
so simple, both for Eren and for the audience. The enemies are Titans, it’s obvious. But no. The Titans and the Warriors were simply victims. But even then, as previously stated, the answer
still stayed clear in Eren’s mind. Driven by his boundless hatred for Marley
and the outside world, he had already decided, before he even left Paradis, to enact the
Rumbling, and to wipe out the entire world. However, as we’ve seen, from the start,
his enemies never really were that different from him, and the more he moved forward in
his quest, the more similar to him they became. And as he discovered after travelling to the
other side of the sea, even the Marleyans were only humans like any other. At this precise moment, just like his father
before him, Eren realized that making hatred his driving force would only lead to more
senseless violence. He became aware of the cycle of violence,
of the suffering it causes to everyone, and of the necessity to bring it to an end. But despite these discoveries, Eren isn’t
Karl Fritz, choosing inaction. He isn’t Armin, choosing dialog. And most importantly, he isn’t his father,
Grisha, choosing not to go further into his hatred and violence, refusing to be a part
of the cycle. His hatred may be gone, but he cannot stop,
he doesn’t want to stop. Whether he’s motivated by vengeance, by
a desire to achieve a twisted idea of freedom, or for another reason entirely, an urge of
unknown origin both to Eren and the audience, it doesn’t change anything. Eren only knows one thing, one solution. Whatever occurs, whatever happens, one unique
solution, one unique action. Keep moving forward until his enemies are
destroyed. To break the cycle, he will push it ever further,
to its utmost limit. If he slaughters all of his enemies, he will
put an end to the slaughter. Truth is, he simply cannot live without violence. A world without violence would be unbearable
to him, boring in the extreme. “If you win, you live. If you lose, you die. Without a fight, you cannot win. Fight. Fight!” For him, violence is more than a solution
or the answer to a problem: it is the obvious, indisputable only way to live. It is a part of him, of his nature, present
inside of him even before the Warrior’s attack and his initiation into the cycle of
violence. But beyond this need to use violence as a
sole recourse, Eren has another goal, much simpler, much more grounded, and much more
humane: the wish for his close ones, his friends and those he loves to live long and happy
lives. For all these reasons, Eren cannot see another
answer than the Rumbling: not only does it allow him to ensure his loved ones are able
to live out their lives safely, it also allows him to unleash all the repressed violence
inside of him. But even then, he carries it out almost reluctantly. He understands that the atrocity of a massacre
of this scale would make him the worst of monsters, and that he would exterminate even
the innocents undeserving of such a fate. Still, he is forced by his nature and his
way of thinking to execute his plan. And to justify the Rumbling, while the Titans
have already started their march of doom, he makes use of the cycle. After all, it’s not his fault. His enemies initiated this chain of events
themselves by destroying his life. They’re responsible for this, they have
only themselves to blame, right? To protect himself from his guilt, he falls
back into the thought pattern induced by the cycle of violence he had previously abandoned. He tries to go back to being an ignorant pawn
of the cycle, to forget what he witnessed and learned about the cycle and his enemies;
but he is unable to do so. He keeps moving forward, but without any conviction,
which is reflected by his Founding Titan form: although of an unmatched scale in size, it
doesn’t possess the vitality and vigorous strength characteristic of the Attack Titan,
becoming instead a twisted empty shell, a deformed skeletal monstrosity. Eren’s intense hatred of Karl Fritz’s
ideology comes from the fact that he is its exact antithesis. Whereas Karl Fritz acted through inaction
and wanted his people to pay for their crimes and to be finally eliminated, Eren puts his
people first, and continues to move forward, exterminating the rest of the world for their
sake so that they can live in peace. His hatred for Zeke’s euthanasia plan can
be explained in the same way since it shares many similarities with the first King of the
Walls’s own plan. Eren is no slave to the cycle. He managed to escape the cycle of violence,
but pushes it ever forward, in order to destroy it. In a way, he is the culmination of the cycle’s
violence, becoming so to speak the embodiment of the cycle itself, a demon combining suffering
and hatred and leaving only more hatred and destruction in its trail. This is why the Alliance’s fight against
Eren and his Rumbling is not driven by hatred, or by a desire for vengeance: they are fighting
the cycle itself. They are fighting the fate of countless innocents,
that of being massacred without purpose or exception. What they are fighting is the merciless enemy
of all life. Violence will only lead to more violence,
hatred will only lead to more hatred. Eren’s actions had consequences, and if
he caused countless deaths, he also changed the living. Gabi Braun is Eren’s exact reflection. Just like him, she had her life ravaged by
the attack of her hometown Liberio, and developed a deep hatred for the “demons” of Paradis
Island and for Eren himself, the ones she considers responsible for all of her and her
close ones’ suffering. However, unlike Eren, when this tragedy strikes,
she’s already prepared to face it. Whereas Eren was only a child during the attack
on Shiganshina, Gabi is a trained soldier and a gifted Warrior Candidate during the
raid on Liberio. And so, she’s not helpless against the invaders,
and already has ways to fight them. She takes down Lobov, a member of the Survey
Corps, and uses his gear to board their airship as they were retreating. Then, she aims, shoots, and kills Sasha. This murder is a turning point in her connection
to the cycle of hatred; but not in the way we may first assume. It doesn’t push her further into hatred
and violence, quite the opposite actually. Brought to Paradis Island, Gabi is an involuntary
witness to the consequences of her actions. Sheltered by the family of the woman she killed,
unaware of her deed, she at first doesn’t believe that their intentions and actions
are benevolent and selfless. But as time passes, she is forced to recognize
that they mean her no harm, even knowing her identity as an Eldian from Marley. Through Kaya and her story about the attack
of her village, she begins to question Marley’s actions and her previous beliefs that the
people on Paradis must pay for the crimes of their ancestors. Gabi is forced to see the inhabitants of Paradis
not as evil demons, but as human beings, just like Eren did during his stay at Marley. Every trace of doubt is all but erased from
her mind after the clash of her previous way of thinking with reality during her confrontation
with Niccolo, a Marleyan who had feelings towards Sasha. She realizes herself that her actions had
consequences, and how absurd her reasons for them were. And so, because of her experiences, she learns
to sympathize with and to trust the people on Paradis, and thus cannot justify her arbitrary
hatred for them anymore. Her hatred and desire for vengeance disappear,
as she becomes aware of the cycle’s existence, and that she participated in it without realizing
it, again and again repeating the mistakes of the past. Sasha’s murder had a major positive impact
on Gabi. For if she hadn’t climbed inside the airship,
she would have stayed in Liberio, consumed by hatred and slowly losing her humanity. Instead, Gabi freed herself from the cycle
of hatred, and showed that even when we are convinced of the justification of our own
actions, it is still possible to realize the humanity of those we hate, and that considering
them as monsters or demons is both unfounded and false. She incarnates hope for future generations
to rid themselves of the hatred of their legacy, and to live free of violence and its destructive
cycle. The cycle’s grasp is thus not permanent. It is possible for the new generations to
free themselves from it. But then, what about those directly concerned? The people already fighting? Reiner Braun once was, just like Eren and
Gabi, a mere pawn of the cycle. Born to an Eldian mother and a Marleyan father,
he voluntarily enlisted in the Warrior Unit so that he and his mother could become Honorary
Marleyans and have a better life. In addition to the guilt for Eldia’s past
crimes passed down to him by his mother, he undergoes Marley’s indoctrination, and becomes
a devoted child soldier, with an ardent desire to rid the world of the “devils” of Paradis
Island, clearly responsible for all the world’s suffering. At an early age, he is placed inside the cycle
of hatred. But all his convictions and principles end
up crumbling after his departure for Paradis. Not only did his father never want to find
him or live with him and his mother, but he himself wasn’t even supposed to receive
the honor of inheriting the Armored Titan in the first place. After destroying Wall Maria and causing the
Titan invasion inside the walls, he is forced to live in the chaos he himself initiated,
infiltrating Paradis Island’s population in order to locate and retrieve the Founding
Titan. It’s at this moment he realizes, like Eren
then Gabi after him, that his enemies, the inhabitants of Paradis, weren’t actually
monsters but ordinary humans ignorant of the outside world. Devoured by guilt, his mind snaps, and splits
into two: the merciless Marleyan Warrior, and the devoted Survey Corps soldier. And when he could act as his heart desires,
to join Paradis to help them fight against the Marleyan empire, his shattered mind lacks
the necessary strength to do so. Not knowing what is right anymore, he follows
through on the mission he sacrificed so much for and decides to fulfill his duty to the
bitter end. But after the failure of the aforementioned
mission and his return to Marley, his guilt and his traumas keep eating away at him; he
falls deeper and deeper into depression: he loses a lot of weight, as well as his drive
to do anything, and he even almost commits suicide when the prospect of returning to
Paradis becomes more and more realistic. However, he eventually manages to find a goal,
something worth living and fighting for. To protect Gabi and Falco, the children he
cares about, from living the same hell he did, he finds the mental strength he previously
lacked. And although his past traumas almost literally
come to haunt him again when Eren arrives at Liberio, taking him out of the fight for
just about the entirety of the raid, it is indeed in those children he finds the strength
to once again face Eren. But for the first time, he fights for something
he truly believes in, and his Titan form doesn’t exhibit its characteristic armor. To face the monster Eren has become, Reiner
regains his humanity. He suffered a living hell due to his guilt,
and through Gabi and Falco he found redemption, freeing himself from the cycle of violence
he’d been participating in without any conviction. He escaped from the cycle that caused him
so much pain, not by fighting to take revenge against his enemies, but to save those he
loves. During the second battle of Shiganshina, he
therefore has the mental upper hand against Eren: he doesn’t fight for a cause he doesn’t
believe in anymore, but for a true goal. This is also the first fight against Eren
he ends up winning. If Gabi is the hope for future generations
to live free of the cycle of violence, Reiner embodies hope for those already fighting,
those directly inside the cycle. The path may not be easy to cross, it may
even seem impossible, or look like it causes even more pain than the cycle itself, but
it is still possible to repent and to cease to play into the hands of a vicious circle
of hatred, violence and conflict. But what would happen if we were to mix Karl
Fritz’s ideals with Eren Yeager’s determination? What would be the result of a combination
of the desire to shield one’s people from the cycle of violence, consequently protecting
them and the rest of the world from further suffering, with a willingness to make all
the sacrifices deemed necessary to achieve one’s goal, without ever stopping or backing
down? If such a person were to exist, they would
be an unrelenting force, ready to fight through anyone and anything to achieve their goal. This force, this person, is Zeke Yeager. Son of Grisha Yeager and Dina Fritz and descendant
of royal blood, Zeke was raised with both the extremist Restorationist ideals and doctrines
of his parents, and Marley’s contrary ones, taught by his grandparents. However, his father and mother were more preoccupied
with their mission to destroy the Marleyan Empire than by their own son; and thought
about him more as an asset for their cause due to his royal blood than as their child. Zeke was therefore forcefully enrolled into
the Warrior Program, in which he didn’t really shine with excellence, probably due
to his lack of personal motivation. Nonetheless it is there that he would meet
Tom Xaver, who was the Beast Titan at the time, and whom he would befriend. Xaver notably helped him discover his gift
for playing catch, a game that would become one of his greatest passions, largely preferring
it to the war-related activities that his parents and his training destined him to. When he found out that the Restorationists
were about to be identified and arrested by Marley, Zeke begged his parents to stop before
they were all made into Titans and sent to Paradis. After they refused, Zeke went to Xaver for
advice, and Xaver gave him his only solution: to denounce them. Although it broke his heart, Zeke complied,
assuring both his and his grandparents’ safety, and securing his place within the
Warriors as the inheritor of Xaver’s Beast Titan. Unlike Grisha, Xaver’s personality was very
calm, and his ideas pacifist, and he would think about Zeke as his own son. And so, Zeke was brought up knowing both sides
of the cycle of hatred, but not actually being a part of it himself. This singular point of view on the cycle offered
him the necessary perspective to develop unique ideas to bring it to an end. After a conversation with Xaver, during which
the latter had taught him about the Founding Titan’s ability to alter the anatomy of
all Subjects of Ymir, Zeke formulated the idea that the Founding Titan could strip the
Eldians of their ability to reproduce, which would lead to their extinction after about
a hundred years, and thus to the elimination of Titans. If such a thing were to occur, the world wouldn’t
have to fear their potential for destruction; and the children the Eldians would have brought
into this world wouldn’t have to suffer its cruelty and violence. After all, for him, if we hadn’t been born
to begin with, we wouldn’t have had to suffer this much. This idea became his drive and goal: to obtain
the Founding Titan’s power and fulfill his “mission”, he would be ready to do anything,
to commit any atrocity, and to make all the sacrifices necessary. For in this cruel world, without sacrifice,
you cannot change anything. So, whereas Eren wishes to stop the cycle
of violence by pushing it always further, exterminating his enemies to the last, Zeke
wants to do the opposite, to remove his own people from the cycle, but unlike Karl Fritz,
in an active way. With his euthanasia plan, he fights to be
able to leave the fight. Contradictorily, by fighting to end it, he
only perpetuates the cycle of violence. His brutal and unsensitive use of violence
eventually lead to the rise of the cycle’s servant, the merciless man Floch would become. Zeke wishes for his people to face a peaceful
end, whatever the cost. To “save” future generations, he is ready
to sacrifice even children, as shown when he turned Falco into a Titan. To protect his people from the world’s violence,
he is ready to slaughter them and the rest as much as necessary. If Eren represents the cycle, Floch those
who follow it, Armin those who oppose it, Gabi and Reiner those who manage to escape
it, and Grisha those who don’t, Zeke is despair. He is the despair brought forth by the cycle,
the conviction that nothing will be able to end it, that it will forever be a part of
the world, and that not being born in the first place would be preferable to a life
of suffering under its rule. Zeke is unable to perceive the beauty in this
world, only focusing on its cruelty, and his willpower and lack of mercy convey the despair
he embodies to those he faces. Right from his first appearance, he petrifies
Mike, one of the best soldiers of Paradis, with unrelenting fear, and proves the wrongness
of his motto, “Only when we stop fighting do we truly lose”, by killing him precisely
because he kept the will to fight. Even Erwin Smith, the bravest of the bravest,
was shaken by his ruthless tactics during the battle of Shiganshina, and the prospect
of his survival momentarily made Levi Ackerman, humanity’s strongest soldier, lose faith. Zeke’s goal and its implications are in
opposition with the immense majority of the show’s characters, making him, if only thematically,
the story’s main antagonist. He is ready to do anything to free the Eldians
from the suffering caused by the cycle, without even once considering not using violence himself. And this is his contradiction: by fighting
to put an end to the cycle, he perpetuates it, almost justifies it. Zeke is Eren’s direct antithesis, and their
confrontation is that of two diametrically opposed ideals. The cycle of violence’s destructive nature
isn’t to be proven. It brings devastation, corruption and hate. But that’s not all. Above all, what it brings is suffering. And who best to embody this suffering of the
innocents, of those who do not take part in the cycle and are only collateral victims,
than the Founder, Ymir Fritz herself. Suffering is what can best characterize her
existence. Forced to slavery and mentally broken since
childhood, she was gifted with a power beyond all comprehension, able to bring both prosperity
and ruin. But even though the appearance of Ymir’s
Founding Titan was a major turn in the war opposing Marley and Eldia, she herself wasn’t
part of the cycle of hatred, at least not directly, and for a simple reason: she doesn’t
feel hatred, nor any desire for violence. She only knows submission, and it is because
of her submission that she served king Fritz, obeying any and all of his commands even though
she possessed the strongest power in existence. Even after her death, her suffering didn’t
end, and she was transported to the realm of the Paths, a world beyond time and death,
where she was trapped by her submission to the king. Ymir Fritz was forced to conceive and build
every single Titan when they were summoned to Earth, for eternity. Since a Titan’s transformation mostly occurred
in a context of violence, to bring on even more violence, her forced labor causes and
is caused by the cycle. Ymir Fritz is quite literally a prisoner of
the cycle, unable to escape her endless prison of suffering. She represents those who, no matter the side
or the time they found themselves in, were the innocents, the collateral victims of the
cycle of violence. Such is Ymir’s status during her torment. But at the arrival of Eren and Zeke in the
Paths, something peculiar happened inside of her. Ymir Fritz is thrown into the opposition of
the antinomian points of view of the Yeager brothers: their goal, whether it be direct
or not, is to free her. Using the authority his royal blood has on
her, Zeke orders her to enact his euthanasia plan; so that when the last Subjects of Ymir
would perish, the Titans and their powers would disappear, supposedly along with the
Paths and Ymir Fritz’s world of suffering. In other words, Zeke wants her to continue
with her servitude a little longer, in order to ultimately free her; this justification
of one’s actions “for the greater good” is also present in Zeke via his usage of violence
to end the cycle. What Eren proposes to Ymir is likewise also
noteworthy. He doesn’t offer her freedom or salvation,
not at all. Indeed, he gives her the possibility to escape
her position as a victim, but only to replace it with the role of perpetrator. He uses her suffering to awaken a desire for
vengeance inside her, making her in turn enter the cycle of violence. The consequence of Ymir’s decision to follow
Eren is, of course, the Rumbling. We’ve seen various characters’ links with
the cycle of violence, and the Rumbling and the nigh-omnicide it proposes makes all of
these points of view stand out and interact with one another. The Rumbling’s thematical meaning, when
we consider its causes and consequences, is also quite interesting. The Rumbling is the trampling of the world
by millions of Colossal Titans, originally created by Karl Fritz to serve only as a deterrent
force to protect his people. It was then activated with Ymir’s help by
Eren, who could only access the Founder’s power through Zeke and his royal blood. To put it differently, using what we’ve
previously said and extrapolating a bit: The Rumbling was born out of a forced removal
from the cycle, it is the accumulation of a repressed violence, forced to inaction. And only when the previously passive victims
of the cycle of violence preferred to join it rather than give in to the ease despair
would provide could it be fully unleashed. This symbolic and thematical aspect doesn’t
offer an exhaustive vision or interpretation of the show’s events and characters, of
course, but it brings additional dimensions to characters each possessing their reasons,
motivations and ideas. It is possible to relate to, or at least to
understand each character, as well as where their reasoning comes from. This exceptional humanization is part of the
series’ greatest strengths. There is no absolute good, nor is there absolute
evil. Everyone can become a god or a devil, all
it takes is for people to believe in it. Our point of view as the audience puts us
partly outside the plot, and therefore allows us, if we make the effort, to judge the characters’
actions and motivations in a more objective way. But still, what if we were in place of Eren,
Armin, Reiner, Zeke, or Grisha? What guarantee do we have that we would be
clairvoyant enough to keep our impartiality and our ability to think rationally under
similar circumstances? Truth is, were we there instead of the show’s
characters, we would probably make the same mistakes. Losing our temper after suffering a crushing
loss… If vengeance, although subjugating us into
its cycle of hatred, is in our best interest, and helps fulfill our objective… Or if we managed to escape the cycle of violence,
but it comes back imposing itself onto our lives… Even in Attack on Titan, the cycle doesn’t
originate from a precise event or person. The Titans’ appearance or king Fritz didn’t
create the concept of vengeance. The cycle of hatred also exists in our own
world: it would be impossible to find someone who had never felt a desire for vengeance. It is indissociable from human nature. As long as humans hold firm to different beliefs,
there will always be an enemy. But then, if the cycle of violence is integral
to human nature, is it really possible to put it to an end? Though it was originally treated in an ambivalent
way, Karl Fritz’s solution is not the one supported by the show. Its results were only a fake and short-lived
peace. The objective during the Uprising Arc was
to end the lies of the Reiss family and of the government, based on the assumption that
a cruel truth is better than a “protective” ignorance. We could think that Zeke’s euthanasia plan
is justified, as it is indeed based on an apparently concrete element: as long as Titans
exist, history will only repeat itself, and so will hatred and vengeance. But the series treats this solution as that
of the antagonists, and that is because it omits a number of truths. Sure, by eliminating every Eldian, Titans
would disappear, but that would not be the case for the cycle of violence, or for violence
itself. The show considers, and rightfully so, that
genocide cannot be the solution to stop the cycle of violence. And that is why the Rumbling, Eren’s solution,
is not the right one either. Even if he slaughters the rest of the world,
violence will not stop. He would only gain a reduction of the scale:
instead of conflicts between countries, there would be conflicts between rival factions
on Paradis. But if those who propose active solutions
are all wrong, which answer is the right one? Which character knows the path we must follow? On several occasions, the show uses the “forest”
metaphor to describe the violent nature of the world, and thus the cycle of violence. This metaphor represents the world as a dangerous
forest, where we would all eventually give in, or die. Even before its explicit explanation, the
forest metaphor can be found several times in the plot, notably illustrated by the Forest
of Giant Trees. Eren is indeed plunged into the forest during
his first fight against Annie, and then again after discovering Reiner and Bertolt’s true
identities; two moments where he was consumed by his rage and his desire for vengeance. Zeke is also at some point held prisoner within
the Forest, and ends up slaughtering everyone inside to escape it, similar to his use of
violence to end suffering with his euthanasia plan. But most importantly, after the beginning
of the Rumbling, it is there that gathered those who were formerly enemies. But, for the first time, they do not meet
to fight each other, but to unite; and it is much harder to make peace when old wounds
haven’t yet been mended. Inside the forest, everyone speaks their mind,
explains their point of view, and even apologizes in some cases. And only after the end of this confrontation,
can they all leave the forest for good. The path is not a dead end; it is possible
to escape the cycle: first by realizing that our enemies aren’t monsters but humans just
like ourselves, then by refusing to give in to our desires for vengeance, acknowledging
that the forest itself, the cycle of hatred, is responsible, to at last stop feeding it
by stopping to act according to its will. This path is long and painful, but it is the
only way to successfully get out of the forest. All may not have the strength or the courage
to do so, whether voluntarily, due to a fear of being confronted with the truth about our
actions and thus about ourselves, or involuntarily, due to a lack of mental strength or of conviction
to oppose the cycle and the cruel nature of the world. A character of Attack on Titan understood
all of this. A minor character, both apparently and factually,
and although his impact on the plot was very limited, it was colossal as per the theme
of the cycle of violence. This character is Artur Braus, Sasha’s father. Ever since his first appearance, it is obvious
that he is aware of the world and its nature, and of the cycle of violence, being the first
to establish the forest metaphor. Mr. Braus doesn’t take part in the cycle
itself; to the contrary, he opposes it. He tries to stop it, not through violence
of physical strength, seeking to eliminate one side or forcing them not to use violence,
but with words. Through listening and dialog, he soothes the
heated spirits, and calms the desires for vengeance responsible for the cycle’s existence
in the first place. The ancestral feuds must stay in the past
where they belong; it is the adults’ role to shoulder the sins of the past to keep the
children out of the forest. There is no miracle solution to the cycle
of violence. There is no magical cure that would bring
it to an end. As long as humans exist, so will the cycle. But all isn’t lost. What Attack on Titan tells us about the cycle
of violence is that even though it isn’t possible to stop it on the scale of humanity,
we can still act individually to free ourselves from it. It is still possible to bury the hatchet,
to understand and to make peace with our enemies, and especially with our own mistakes and their
consequences. For if we do not make peace with ourselves
and do not accept who we are and what we have done, we cannot bring forth any change. And though it may seem futile or insignificant,
even small steps can have a huge impact. We have only to get out of the forest. Thank you very much for watching this video
till the end. As you can imagine, it took quite a long time
to make it, and required a lot of work. I invite you to subscribe to the channel if
you haven’t already done so, to be informed when new videos come out. This type of video is very new for me, so
please tell me what you think about it in the comments. I do not claim to hold the definite truth
- you are totally free to disagree with things I’ve said - neither do I claim to have been
exhaustive, or to have treated in their integrality the themes the series addresses; this isn’t
my goal in the first place. I only hope I made you think about the cycle
of violence, and the way it is treated in Attack on Titan, and to have offered you new
perspectives you maybe wouldn’t have thought about. You can join my Discord server and follow
me on Twitter and Instagram if you wish to do so, all links are in the description. That’s it for me, I’ll see you around.
