Politics in The Hunger Games: fascism, post-colonial identities, and a terrifying realisation

By Shania O’Brien

Suzanne Collins announced a prequel to her hit series The Hunger Games a couple of weeks ago, and even though she fell victim to the classic YA fill-in-the-blanks game (“A ___ of ___ and ___”) the news brought back some old musings. I remember reading the Hunger Games when I was twelve years old, expecting the books to be about a love triangle and an adventurous quest. It was falsely marketed to me, of course, because the narrative revolves around the economic and political struggles that are faced by the fictitious country of Panem. Nevertheless, I tread on, accompanying Katniss as she contended against an overpowered government and an unreliable rebel force, as she struggled with her personal identity and what it meant to be the symbol of a revolution.

 In the books, with Katniss as the sole narrator, we experience the Capitol’s – which functions as a tyrannical dictatorship, led by President Snow – barbarity and oppressive practices; the most obvious being the Hunger Games itself, functioning as a manner of asserting control over the population through a stylized act of violence and a symbol of enslavement. Now this might not be a hot take, but I’m really worried about Suzanne coming out as a fortune teller and holding up a mirror against our futures. The official doctrine claims that Panem manifested from the remains of North America, in the wake of natural disasters and a brutal war for what little sustenance remained. And Panem was at peace – until the districts rose up against the Capitol. And thus, the Hunger Games were born: acting as an annual reminder that rebellion would not be tolerated. 

In case you’ve been living under a rock, or you’re not really into YA fiction, the Games are terror tactics that play with the lives of innocents: two children from each district are thrown into an arena where they must fight to the death until one victor (just as with the Capitol) survives. The Victory Tours that come after act as a reinforcement of the Capitol’s absolute control and the use of the Games as a weapon. Both events are televised and act as a propaganda tool due to their compulsory viewing. They serve as entertainment orchestrated to divert attention away from the fascist government and their unjust practices. It satisfies the ignorant population of the Capitol, the frivolous people satiated by the consumption of the fruit of a muscular capitalism that feeds on the twelve districts, and the broadcast serves as a reminder of the relentless power of the Capitol. 

Philosophy legend Umberto Eco states that a fascist government’s force is contingent on the weaknesses of the population it hierarchically rules over. Setting the districts up against each other reflects the method in which they are dislocated via the political strategy of divide and conquer. The people are confined to their districts, surrounded by tall, electrified fences. The Capitol regulates Panem through its control over food resources and electricity supplies, and even though I can make real-life connections, I am choosing not to for the sake of our collective sanity.

 Alternatively, District 13, lead by President Alma Coin, continues an underground existence that remains secret from the rest of the country. Long believed destroyed, it had survived the nuclear vibe check with the Capitol and operates as an assembly point for rebels. Katniss describes it as militaristic and overly programmed. However, though expected of the Capitol, Coin isn’t above practices like torture and crimes against humanity. Katniss’ old Games prep team was yeeted out of the Capitol, beaten beyond recognition, and imprisoned. Arguably tame in comparison, but their maltreatment is evidence that District 13 is capable of invoking harsh responses and ur-fascism can be found in the most innocent of guises and in seemingly benevolent governmental institutions. The irony of Coin and Snow being on opposing sides and wielding fascist control over their respective territories does not escape me. Both of them embody John Dalberg-Acton’s pronouncement that absolute power corrupts absolutely. 

Katniss suffers through an identity crisis, undergoing transformations that reflect the impact of colonial power on her sense of self. As a tribute in the Games and through her role as the Mockingjay, her narrative evolves from a colonized woman to the symbol of the rebellion. I’m assuming that people form their personal identity in conjunction with society, languages, and other people; and hence the effects of colonization result in the construction of post-colonial identities. Through this I emphasize negotiation of the multiplicity of identities and subject positionings which result from displacements, immigrants, and exiles. We can explore the shift in Katniss’ identity as a result of the dehumanization she experiences in the wake of her volunteering as a tribute in the Games and the hybridized identity of the Mockingjay she adopts in later stages of the novels.

 In a makeover that would traumatize the Fab Five, the Capitol inflicts physical trauma on Katniss in the form of painful tearing, ripping, and uprooting of her hair during her preparation process before the Games.  Katniss confesses to feeling intensely vulnerable and uncomfortable with her transformation; she describes herself as a mere commodity altered to appeal to her colonizers. This process reiterates what Boehmer defines as the double vision of the colonized. The attire the Capitol provides traps Katniss within power inequalities – especially those of gender and class – and serves as an ever-present reminder of her mortality, fragility, and dependence on state systems. Her ‘girl on fire’ costume embodies both: her transformation for Capitol audiences and offers a nod to her origins as an oppressed citizen of a mining district. The dress she’s given for her interview is covered in reflective precious gems that mirror the images of the Capitol residents to themselves and stimulate screams in admiration of whom Katniss has become. But when she is left alone and looks at herself from the eyes of those around her, she realizes a new identity has been created for her: “And there I am, blushing and confused, made beautiful by Cinna’s hands, desirable by Peeta’s confession, tragic by circumstance.” And so, Katniss enters the Games as an artefact designed for the entertainment of those too self-involved to see her as a person.

 By internalizing the discourse provided by the Capitol, Katniss falls victim to her colonial relationship and adopts the identity of the Mockingjay. It is turbulent, as the hybrid identity and composite culture is characterized by contradictions and instabilities. Even though she embraces her image as the symbol of the rebellion, she also rejects the role that has been forced upon her. She attributes her survival in the Quarter Quell – the second Games she partook in – to her perceived identity of the Mockingjay. As Plutarch Havensbee tells her: “we had to save you because you’re the Mockingjay. While you live, the revolution lives.” Ouch, right?

Katniss recognizes the role of manipulations in the formation of her identity, citing the Gamemakers, President Snow, the rebels, and finally President Coin. She claims she was designated the role, with no one considering that she might not want the wings.

District 13 then goes on to broadcast Katniss as the Mockingjay – an act that can be compared with the Capitol’s pomp during the Games. Katniss detests her lack of agency in her own life, and then explores her autonomy by claiming ownership of her identity. Katniss assesses the jabberjay with deference, saying that the mockingjay is a creature the Capitol never intended to exist, as they hadn’t counted on the highly controlled jabberjay having the brains to adapt to the wild, to pass on its genetic code, to thrive in a new form. They hadn’t anticipated its will to live.  As the books progress, Katniss identifies with the jabberjay as well. She is highly controlled but acknowledges potential means of adaptation and survival, should she be willing to occupy the space between the jabberjay and the mockingbird. After she accepts this role, she rises and commits covert and overt acts of rebellion against District 13, and plots to overthrow both Coin and Snow. This hybridized identity allows her a degree of autonomy and she uses her symbol as a strategy of resistance. 

 The books allow us to look at issues of violence and domination in our world, to decrypt those narratives and contend with oppression. The economic and political struggles that undermine Panem and result in the thirteen districts joining forces in the struggle for the justice embodied by the Mockingjay and their battle to fight oppression – and its eventual triumph – shows how a dominion that uses violence as a weapon against its own people loses legitimacy. Its narrative asks us to recognize and resist authoritarianism. The Hunger Games taught me about politics and the workings of the world long before I was politically aware enough to comprehend its significance, to understand that this piece of popular culture meant for entertainment was actually a warning bell, a red flag, a cry for help.