Final Fantasy XIV Doesn’t Run From Its Politics Like So Many Other Games

Nothing is apolitical. That politics influence everything in this world is a simple truth, yet it’s something I keep seeing game development companies and figures deny, and I’m tired. It’s one of the reasons why catching up on Final Fantasy XIV, which wholeheartedly embraces its politics and incorporates rich nuances in its discussions about oppression, has been so refreshing. In particular, its unabashed takedown of fascism and its exploration of the impacts of oppression make for some of the most fascinating writing I’ve seen.
The world of XIV is incredibly complex, rife with politics, human crisis and conflict, much of which stems from the Garlean Empire, which has seized control of the majority of Eorzea through advanced technological warfare. Their goal is to eliminate eikons (primals/summons), and to do this they believe all of Eorzea should be united under one Garlean banner. As their emperor states, they “come not to conquer, but to liberate—to free man from the prison of divergence. Imagine a world united. One perfect race beneath a single standard.”
Though it’s always sought increased power, the empire stepped back after colonizing Ala Mhigo around two decades prior to the start of XIV. The violent invasion displaced Ala Mighans and forced them to flee in droves to Ul’dah, which is deeply capitalist and has coin but little empathy to spare, and Gridania, which isn’t welcoming of outsiders. Largely shunned by both, refugees must struggle to survive, live in a small refugee settlement outside of these city states known as Little Ala Mhigo or return to their occupied homeland. The Garlean Empire’s oppression of Ala Mighans is one of the game’s major plot points and the focus of its second expansion, Stormblood.
XIV isn’t afraid to display the full impact of oppression: the lack of resources available to a dying people forced to exist on the margins of society; the daily psychological terror of living under a fascist regime; the delicacies and dangers of powerful, well-meaning outside allies intervening in the affairs of marginalized (and largely brown or otherwise of color) people. It also accompanies these things with important, compelling questions—not questions like “is oppression bad,” but rather ones like: what do oppressors look like? What happens when the oppressors look like the marginalized? How accountable are they as individuals versus the dominant system? What does a revolution look like for different people, and is it easily accessible for everyone?