Under the Dome, Part Two

As Stephen King’s latest work progresses, the thin veil of fiction over his commentary on American policies in the war on terror is cast aside.

Like a skilled conductor before an orchestra, town selectman Jim Rennie directs his constituents into a symphony of paranoia and fear-driven decision making.  During the tumult, Rennie’s character disappears into the background, content to allow the mayhem to run freely until he can surface and provide direction.  He has methodically concocted a fear-based culture in which he alone is blameless, and “God help anyone who does not stand on ‘our side’.”

The ensuing town mentality reveals a population eager to surrender due process and individual liberties for the common good.  Supplanting due process is trial by association.  When several citizens are found guilty in the court of public opinion, Rennie wins an easy victory, using the town’s fear as the district judge.  The town quickly begins to fracture into two time honored camps:  “us,” and “them.” 

In the black and white conservative world inhabited by Becks and Palins, it’s hip to target moderate or rational people as radicals responsible for the nation’s fall from God’s favor.  The far left offers little help, painting ultra-conservatives with an anti-intellectual stigma usually reserved for children.  As Americans, we may recall recent headlines, wherein those who did not support the war in Iraq did not support the deployed American troops.  If one didn’t support the Patriot Act, one wasn’t a true red-blooded American.  King’s story alludes to all of these recent memories in his fictional town of Chester’s Mill.

King’s ability to find the voice of his characters on both sides of the aisle is remarkable.  Equally poignant is the polarizing effect upon interpersonal relationships.  People who have lived in proximity for years find themselves, in the face of adversity and human fear, aligning along two factions:  those on the side of control, and those on the side of freedom.  There is little room for discussion between sides—automatically, townspeople believe they know what is right or wrong based solely on appearance.  There is little room for self reflection, objective thought, or evidence.  If a man appears guilty, he is.

King’s veil of fiction lifts entirely as he poses the following question:  Societally, once we have demonized, polarized, and labeled, what freedoms will we willfully and joyfully give up to preserve safety and order?  Will the cultural mindset continue to be one of paranoia and distrust, or will there remain a small population which continues to value reason?

Finally, King reveals an savvy understanding of American media’s ability to sway public opinion.  Both “sides” make an effort to propagandize and energize their causes, but neither side is faultless.  This week, Julian Assange, the WikiLeaks founder responsible for releasing thousands of classified military documents against the federal government’s warnings, has been arrested after being charged with two counts of rape by Interpol.  Following weeks of Wikileaks-related headlines, many have already tried, judged, and sentenced Assange—but are these fair assumptions? 

Under the Dome’s storyline allows the cynical segment of society to question the timing and validity of these allegations.  Are they real, or a form of political retribution for airing information in the face of an administration’s warnings?  When viewed through the lens of King’s warnings, it may be better to reserve judgment.

It’s our American right to hold an opinion.  We may be well cautioned by King’s story to understand these opinions are limited by our human fallibility, our knowledge of only part of the story, and our own mental acuity.  The wisest citizens recognize the line between opinion and fact.

In the next and final installment of Stephen King’s Under the Dome:  The issues of justice and abuse.  Until then….